ACJY C24

Ilkwang Financial’s state-of-the-art digital CCTV system from last year was obviously not going to be in this rural village. Realizing his mistake belatedly, Taeheun scratched his eyebrow and followed the Youth Association head.

“It’s recording in real time, right?”

“Uh, I think so,” the head replied uncertainly.

“It’s been about two and a half hours since I came in here, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you find the footage from then?”

“Hold on.”

The head turned on the TV and fiddled with the recording equipment. Soon, the village hall courtyard appeared on the screen. The image quality was surprisingly clear for a CCTV in such a rural area. The shade where Taeheun had stood was just at the edge of the camera’s view, so there was a chance the incident was captured.

The head fast-forwarded the footage and played it at double speed. Within minutes, Taeheun appeared, standing in the shade in front of the village hall. Although only his legs were visible, the moment he placed the bag of snacks and the coffee box on the ground was clearly recorded.

Taeheun, in his beach sandals, could be seen entering and exiting the camera frame. Then, the village head appeared, and shortly after, the two entered the village hall. Even after they disappeared, the bag of snacks and the coffee box remained where Taeheun had left them.

“I left them there and forgot about them,” Taeheun pointed to the edge of the screen. The head paused the recording to see what it was.

A sweet coffee aroma wafted through the air. Looking up, Taeheun saw the man standing near the TV, peering at the screen. When Taeheun smiled slightly, the man quickly lowered his gaze and slurped his coffee.

“It’s hard to tell who took them just by looking at their legs,” the Youth Association head said.

“Let’s keep watching. Who knows, you might recognize them, Hyungnim.”

After about thirty minutes of footage showing the empty area in front of the village hall, a figure appeared. It was the back of the village head, exiting the hall. He walked across the courtyard toward the road, stopped in front of the black bag and coffee box, bent down to examine them, and then disappeared with the items between his legs.

“It’s the village head.”

“Oh… yeah. Our father wouldn’t have taken those on purpose, it’s, uh…”

The head of the Youth Association looked flustered.

“Of course, he wouldn’t have taken them on purpose. But it’s a relief that it was the village head. If a complete stranger had taken them, we wouldn’t have been able to get them back, and it would have been a waste.”

Taeheun winked at the Youth Association head, who quickly averted his gaze back to the TV screen.

“Should I call my father?”

“Why bother? Tell him they’re a gift from me.”

“R-really?” The Youth Association head replied, still staring at the TV screen.

“Yes, Hyungnim. Does the village head like Maxim coffee too?”

“Of course, he loves it.”

“That’s good. We’ll be seeing each other often, so there’s no need to get upset over something like this, right, Hyungnim?”

As Taeheun continued to defer to him, calling him “Hyungnim,” the initially embarrassed Youth Association head puffed up with pride.

“Of course. I’m not just saying this because he’s my father, but it doesn’t hurt to be on the village head’s good side. He does so much for the villagers.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

The man sipped his coffee in silence, listening to the awkward exchange of compliments between Taeheun and the Youth Association head.

Since it was Taeheun who had left the items behind, there was no point in blaming the village head. He could just consider it a gift. Still, he had bought them for the man. He was torn between letting it go and feeling bothered by it later, or going back to buy them again, which seemed excessive.

Damn it. Whatever.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

Taeheun opened the door and left the office, then poked his head back in, holding onto the doorknob.

“Mr. Gibeom, wait here. Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.”

The man, about to sit back down on the sofa, turned around at Taeheun’s words and nodded.

Taeheun ran full speed to the supermarket under the blazing sun. He felt a surge of excitement. No one had asked him to do this, and it wasn’t strictly necessary, but he just wanted to give the man the gifts. He narrowly avoided tripping over a rock and arrived at the supermarket.

“This is the last 100-count box. You’re lucky,” the grandmother said, seemingly having forgotten she’d told Taeheun the same thing earlier.

“Wait. Have this while you’re at it. It’s a service.”

She took a can of Lotte Let’s Be coffee from the refrigerator and handed it to him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t run, take it easy. It’s hot.”

Taeheun looked down at the can of coffee. It was a drink he normally wouldn’t touch, even if it were free. He hated sweet things, especially sweet drinks.

He recalled the sweet smell emanating from the man as he drank his coffee earlier. Curiosity stirred within him. Even though he knew what it tasted like, he wanted to try it. He tucked the coffee box under his arm and looped the bag of snacks around his wrist to free his hand to open the can. Click. A cheerful sound. He brought the can to his nose, and the distinct sweetness filled his nostrils. The smell alone was almost sickening. Cold condensation dripped from the can onto his hand.

He hesitated for a moment, then took a sip. The taste made him grimace. He considered spitting it out but swallowed it instead. It was bittersweet, not as bad as he’d expected.

The road back to the village hall was hot and deserted. Dragging his beach sandals, he slowly sipped the canned coffee until it was empty. His mouth felt sticky afterward, as if his teeth were rotting. He ran his tongue over his teeth and palate, trying to get rid of the sugary residue.

The man was standing in the shade in front of the village hall. Taeheun waved at him. The man didn’t wave back or acknowledge him. He suddenly hunched over, looking down, and nudged the ground with his boot. Taeheun imagined his face, flushed all the way up to his neck.

Strange man.

Taeheun smiled.

✽✽✽

The child was talkative. In the truck on the way home, she loudly recounted a near-fistfight with a classmate named Suho. The man listened patiently, offering generic advice like, “You shouldn’t fight with your friends.”

“You don’t understand, Father. Kids like that need to be taught a lesson. Otherwise, they’ll walk all over you!”

“Still, you should get along with your friends.”

“Hey, who’s bigger, you or him?” Taeheun interjected.

“Him.”

“He’s a sneaky bastard.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Jihye turned to Taeheun, continuing her impassioned story. “He only picks on smaller kids. In front of bigger kids or those who look like they can fight, he acts all meek.”

“He’s a coward.”

“Right? I kept holding back, but I finally had enough and challenged him to a fight!”

“A ‘die die’? You should use nice words,” the man admonished.

The child looked abashed, but when Taeheun asked, “And then what happened?” she excitedly continued her story. Then, out of the blue, she started talking about what she wanted for dinner.

“Father, let’s have doenjang jjigae (soybean paste stew) tonight. With tofu, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Yay! Mister, have you ever had my father’s doenjang jjigae? It’s really delicious.”

“Really? I’m looking forward to it.”

While Taeheun had initially responded enthusiastically to the child, this time he just gave a perfunctory reply.

He didn’t like strongly flavored foods like kimchi jjigae or doenjang jjigae. He preferred clear broths and avoided spicy side dishes. This eating habit had developed since he started training, but in reality, he avoided those stews because they felt unsophisticated to him, prejudiced by the notion that they were dishes old fogies like his uncle loved.

As soon as they got out of the truck, the child ran to the yard and took care of the dogs’ food and water. Crunch, crunch. The dogs ate heartily. The child, just like the man, watched them with a pleased expression.

The dogs were also strange creatures, just like the man. Despite barking ferociously at first, they were now wagging their tails at Taeheun after only seeing him a few times.

“Which one is Mansu and which one is Mugang?”

“This one is Mansu, and that one is Mugang,” the child replied without looking at him. She didn’t even point, so Taeheun sat on the porch still unsure which dog was which.

It was still bright outside, but the setting sun brought a cool breeze that gently rustled Taeheun’s hair. He caught his foot on the man’s boots. Looking down at his white feet, reddened along the straps of his beach sandals, he wondered if the man ever found it stuffy wearing boots all day.

The man had changed into comfortable clothes and was standing barefoot in the kitchen. When Taeheun entered, he said, “Wash your hands and feet with soap first.” Taeheun, thinking he was being spoken to like a child, replied, “Yes, Father,” imitating Jihye. The man flinched, his neck flushing, though he didn’t turn around.

“Use the white towel,” the man said to Taeheun as he headed to the bathroom.

Taeheun went into his room, changed into shorts and a t-shirt, and came back out. A pristine white towel hung on the bathroom towel rack. The newest, whitest things were all for Taeheun. His mother had always given him his older brother’s hand-me-downs, so it felt strange that a complete stranger was giving him the best.

The child was running around the house, making a racket. The man didn’t scold her with comments like, “You’re so boisterous for a girl.”

“You’ll fall. Be careful,” was all he said in a low voice.

Watching this father and daughter made Taeheun feel uncomfortable, constantly comparing them to his own family. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen a harmonious family before. For some reason, seeing the man and child reminded him of his mother and his own childhood, constantly being treated differently because of his idiotic older brother. The young boy who worried about his mother, unaware that she had sold him to his uncle, yearning for his father’s affection. It was unbearable.