ACJY C20

Three hours. He was already bored. Taeheun lay sprawled on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling, then turned his head. He could see the man’s bedroom. He’d been curious about the inside of the room, which had been left open all day yesterday.

He wriggled on his stomach like a swimmer, making his way to the man’s room. He’d wondered where the TV was, and it turned out to be in there.

The bedroom, twice the size of the storage room Taeheun was using, was just as simple, despite its size.

Aside from a large lacquered chest, similar to the one he’d seen at his grandmother’s house as a child, which filled one entire wall, there was no other furniture to speak of. The TV sat on a plastic crate, not even a proper stand. The floor was covered with a bamboo mat, and like Taeheun’s room, the torn linoleum had been patched up with green tape in several places. The bedding piled in the corner was old and faded, looking like it would reek of an old person. They were far too old-fashioned for a young man, relics of a bygone era, like the lacquered chest.

Taeheun left the bedroom and explored the child’s room. Despite the child’s tomboyish behavior, the room was entirely pink. From the floral curtains on the window to the bedding, everything was pink, but unlike the man’s, they were mostly new.

A small table was also covered with pink stationery. On the bookshelf, six volumes of the Harry Potter series, titles Taeheun recognized, were lined up. Four were yellowed and tattered, while the other two were pristine white, as if they had been recently purchased.

There were no posters of idols or actors, commonly seen in girls’ rooms, on the walls. Instead, a daily schedule, drawn with markers, was posted. The child’s wake-up time was as early as her father’s. A heart drawn on the taekwondo academy entry suggested she loved taekwondo.

If the man’s room looked like time had stopped, or even regressed, the child’s room was full of life. The man was devoting all his time to his child. This seemed to be the reason why the child, despite having so little, was so confidently cheerful and full of energy.

He felt a pang of envy. Would his life have been different if his parents, or even one of them, had shown him this kind of affection? Even now, at thirty-one, he felt pathetic for still craving his parents’ love.

Leaving the child’s room, Taeheun opened the sliding door just a crack and stretched his long leg through. The dogs, who should have been barking, were silent.

Are they asleep? He crept out onto the porch. The wood under his palms was warm, almost hot. He quickly pulled his hands back and looked around the yard. The dogs were nowhere to be seen.

“Mansu, Mukang! Hey, where are you?” he called out.

What if they’re hiding, waiting to attack me? It seemed plausible. Weren’t dogs supposed to be smarter than they looked? He whistled. He clapped. Not even a mouse appeared, let alone the dogs. They weren’t under the porch either.

This was the perfect chance to leave the house. He couldn’t miss this opportunity. He quickly stepped down and was about to slip on his beach sandals, but suddenly, he felt overcome by inertia. Like a toy with drained batteries, his energy dissipated. The man who had been making phone calls and exploring the rooms just moments ago was gone. Once his body succumbed to listlessness, it refused to move, no matter how hard he tried.

Staring blankly at the gate and the wall, he began to doze. This time, a dream caught him. Events that hadn’t actually happened and his real past were randomly mixed together.

The balsam flowers are so pretty, his mother said, watering the flowerbed. They are.They were almost dead, but they thrive under your care, his father said, pulling weeds, praising his wife. I should paint my nails with them soon, his mother said, looking at Taeheun. Taeheun opened his palms. The pale skin began to stain with the pink flower dye.

Taeheun remained rooted to the spot until his face was flushed from the scorching sun.

How long had he been like that?

The sound of a truck stopping brought him back to his senses. He saw the gate open and the man, wearing a black t-shirt and a towel around his neck, walk in.

“The dogs are gone,” Taeheun, who had been sitting blankly on the porch, blurted out as soon as he saw the man. The man flinched, looking slightly flustered, as if he hadn’t expected Taeheun to speak. He was a strange man.

“They were definitely here… but now they’re gone,” he added defensively. 

After a beat, the man said, “Ah.”

“…They must have gone out to play.”

“Huh? What?” He raised his voice involuntarily, taken aback.

“There’s a hole over there. They don’t usually go out, but I guess they did.”

The man pointed to the left wall, facing the house. Looking closely, Taeheun saw a small, cement-colored door hidden by weeds. Below it was a dog-sized opening.

“There’s a vegetable garden on the other side.”

The weeds were so overgrown he hadn’t realized it was a garden.

“But your face… are you sick?” the man asked with concern.

“Ah… no. I went for a walk after a long time, and my face got a little sunburnt.” 

He cleared his throat to loosen his hoarse voice.

“It’s not that hot yet, but try not to wander around during the day. No one lives around here, so if you collapse, there’s no one to call for help,” the man advised, striding towards the small door. 

He opened the door, which was lower than his height, and slightly bent down to call out, 

“Mansu, Mukang! What are you doing there? Aren’t you hot?”

He heard the sound of paws padding in the distance, and soon the dogs darted in through the opening. Despite panting, they wagged their tails excitedly and jumped on the man.

“Stay home and play when it’s hot. Don’t go there. Look, beggar-ticks.” 

The man admonished the dogs in his usual gentle voice. He picked them up and removed the beggar-ticks. The yellow dog, nestled against the man, went to the water bowl and lapped up the water. The man watched with a worried expression, saying belatedly, 

“That must be lukewarm.”

Taeheun wiped his burning face with his hand. His skin stung. It was no wonder, considering he had been baking in the sun for hours in the midday heat, which was over 30 degrees Celsius. He should consider himself lucky his skin hadn’t peeled.

“Aren’t you hungry? Let’s go eat,” Taeheun said. He had no appetite, but he wanted to get out of the house. He was afraid he’d become listless again if he stayed.

“…After I wash up.”

Despite saying this, the man didn’t get up, instead taking his time petting the dogs. Just when Taeheun thought the sun would set before he moved, the man took off his shirt, tossed it on the porch, and went to the sink to wash his face and hair. He let the water splash onto his bare torso, darkening patches of his jeans.

The man meticulously dried himself with a towel, paying no attention to Taeheun’s gaze.

“Do you have time to go into town?” Taeheun asked, slipping his feet into his beach sandals.

“No, I don’t think I can.”

“I figured. I saw an oak-smoked chicken restaurant last time. Want to go there?”

“…Okay.”

Whether they were getting used to Taeheun or because their owner was present, the dogs were indifferent to him standing in the yard. Why didn’t they act like this earlier? Scaring me like they were about to jump on the porch, he thought.

The man was still standing by the sink, in a vague posture between drying himself and not drying himself.

Taeheun walked towards the gate first.

“Let’s go. We’re taking your truck, right?”

“Yes.” 

Only then did the man follow Taeheun.

The sun was scorching. Even the short walk made him sweat. He wondered how the man could stand being shirtless in the sun when even with clothes on, it was so hot.

“Doesn’t your skin burn when you walk around like that?”

He hadn’t meant to tell him to put on a shirt, but the man seemed to have taken it that way. Instead of answering, he slipped his arms into the black t-shirt he was holding and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. The well-defined chest muscles and ribs moved fluidly. His waist, which Taeheun had thought was thick, looked surprisingly slender when he raised his arms. Beads of sweat trickled down his tanned skin.

“My skin just turns red. It never tans like yours. It just gets bright red and then peels, like a snake shedding its skin. It stings like hell.” 

Taeheun pointed to his face, as if making an excuse.

“…I see.” 

The man got into the driver’s seat without looking at him.

“It’s like talking to myself.” 

Taeheun grumbled, getting into the passenger seat.

The truck rattled along the narrow country road. The air conditioner was on, but it wasn’t very effective. He picked up one of the paper fans scattered on the dashboard and fanned himself, then fanned the man. The man’s ears turned red. Amused, Taeheun continued to fan him diligently.

The man was incredibly shy throughout the drive to the restaurant. The redness that started in his ears spread down his neck to the collar of his shirt. Taeheun imagined his chest was probably red too.

Perhaps the shyness was contagious, because Taeheun’s ears and neck also started to feel hot. He blurted out, “Must be the heat. I feel flushed,” even though no one had asked.