Friend

by Paek Nam-nyong

  “Hey, Ho Nam.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t you go to Provincial Performing Arts kindergarten?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Why do you walk home by yourself?”

  “Because I’m a big boy,” Ho Nam replied.

  “Isn’t the kindergarten far from your house? That’s why the other kids come home with their parents, right?”

  “Yes … but … I’m fine.”

  It was a brusque yet forlorn answer. Jeong Jin Wu was able to infer from Ho Nam’s answer that he longed to walk home from school with either one of his parents. No, if Ho Nam had a choice, he would have liked to walk home with both of his parents.

  “Hey, do you like your mother more or your father?”

  Jeong Jin Wu could feel the warm, soft breath of the child brushing his ear. Ho Nam had been pressing his face against Jeong Jin Wu’s back, but then he lifted his head and quietly confessed.

  “I like them both.”

  It was admirable that, although Ho Nam had witnessed the hostility between his quarrelsome parents, he did not have a strong preference for either one of them.

  Jeong Jin Wu lifted the child a bit higher on his back and walked faster as the rain began to fall again.

  Ho Nam soon fell sound asleep on Jeong Jin Wu’s back. Jeong Jin Wu realized that the boy’s fever was getting worse as he felt his back getting hotter.

  Jeong Jin Wu was certain that his wife had returned from her research trip and was waiting for him at home.

  She must have prepared dinner by now—she always prepares a delicious dinner. Tonight, the boy will feast on a wonderful meal. Let me see … After dinner, we will bathe Ho Nam in hot water and place him on the heated floor. Then he will feel much better. Let me see … After that I will call Seok Chun at his factory to tell him about Ho Nam. And if Sun Hee receives the note from the young woman at the collective unit first, then she will probably be the first one to arrive.

  Gratified with his plans, Jeong Jin Wu approached the front entrance to his apartment building and set down Ho Nam, who was not quite awake. He caressed the child and called out his name until he regained consciousness.

  As they climbed the stairs to the third floor, Jeong Jin Wu explained his simple plan to Ho Nam. Jeong Jin Wu could hardly contain his excitement. When they got to the door, Jeong Jin Wu noticed it was locked. His heart sank. He took the key from inside his mailbox and opened the door to an empty apartment. He did not smell delicious food from the kitchen nor did he see his wife.

  Plans to feed Ho Nam a hearty dinner and wash the boy with his wife’s help were fanciful thoughts that existed only in his imagination. The reality was utterly abysmal. Jeong Jin Wu found a note left by his wife.

  I just received news to come back to Yeonsudeok right away. I took the late bus. They said that the weather is going to get colder tonight and there are already signs of frost. It might even snow. I’m worried about all the seedlings in the laboratory. I hope you understand. I should’ve made dinner before I left. I’m really sorry.

  Love,

  Eun Ok

  Fury stirred in Jeong Jin Wu’s heart. Already annoyed with being wet from the rain, he was even more infuriated by Eun Ok’s request that he understand her situation.

  Why do I have to do everything around the house? Am I the housewife? he thought.

  Eun Ok had been working at the agricultural laboratory for more than twenty years and was gone for more than twenty days out of a month. Jeong Jin Wu could not recall a single day when she was just a modest housewife, cooking, cleaning, and raising their son like other ordinary housewives. She was also in her fifties, and he began to wonder how much longer he would have to wait and be patient with her.

  “It’s not like her research is groundbreaking. She’s just cultivating vegetables,” Jeong Jin Wu mumbled bitterly.

  “Hey, mister, your mom comes home late, too?” interrupted Ho Nam, having grown bored standing next to the shoe rack.

  Jeong Jin Wu forced a genial smile for the child’s sake.

  “The mom of this house went on a research trip again. So, my little guest, once you’ve taken off your boots, come inside.”

  Ho Nam hesitated at first but then took a few steps inside. When he saw his wet footprints on the floor, his face flushed with embarrassment. Jeong Jin Wu smiled.

  “Don’t worry about it. Take off your clothes so I can give you a bath.”

  Jeong Jin Wu changed from his wet clothes to dry ones and helped Ho Nam get out of his clothes. Ho Nam’s undergarments were also soaked. Jeong Jin Wu filled the bathtub with hot water from the kiln and meticulously cleaned the boy’s body.

  Jeong Jin Wu also had a son, but he had grown up and was currently serving in the military so there were no children’s clothes to offer the child. He had Ho Nam sit by the warmest area of the heated floor and covered him with a thick blanket.

  After taking some cold medicine, Ho Nam sat cozily under the blanket and sipped on hot water. Jeong Jin Wu went into the kitchen to prepare dinner and checked on the boy frequently. He saw large beads of sweat rolling down the boy’s face. Ho Nam’s temperature had subsided. It appeared that the child was recovering, which relieved Jeong Jin Wu.

  He went down to the bookstore that occupied the building’s ground level and made a phone call. The supervisor of the Gang An Machine Factory told Jeong Jin Wu that Seok Chun had not yet left work. Jeong Jin Wu gave the supervisor his address and told him to have Seok Chun stop by his house after work.

  It rained violently.

  Jeong Jin Wu climbed the stairs slowly, his heart heavy. He would have to prepare his own meals again and manage the makeshift greenhouse in the master bedroom again. He would have to control the humidity and the temperature of the greenhouse, water the vegetables, and prune them whenever necessary. He would also have to record the growth and development of the vegetables. Eun Ok had not written, “Take care of the greenhouse” on the little note that she had left, but he knew what she meant. “There are already signs of frost” also meant for him to keep the windows closed and take extra care of the vegetables at home.

  Whenever Eun Ok would go on these research trips, she would leave Jeong Jin Wu with all the household chores along with the task of caring for the plants in the makeshift greenhouse in their master bedroom. Her frequent absences had become the norm in Jeong Jin Wu’s life and the chores routine.

  Jeong Jin Wu was exasperated and angry. The whirlwind of fury had turned reason deaf and blind, converting wrath into malice—but he knew there was nothing he could do.

  3

  Lee Seok Chun had finally arrived at Judge Jeong Jin Wu’s apartment. They sat across from each other on the living room floor. Seok Chun was a man of medium stature, robust and broad-shouldered, a thirty-five-year-old in the prime of his life. His face was sharp, with a chiseled jawline, his lips thick, and his eyes deep-set but soft. His fingers were calloused from handling steel at his factory, and his hands were large, with the visible contours of his veins extending up his arm, but they trembled as he caressed his sleeping son. Seok Chun heaved a sigh of distress that was strong enough to bring down the walls.

  “Comrade Judge, if we get divorced, then what’s going to happen to my son? The court will most likely hand him over to his mother, right?”

  “That’s not necessarily the case. The child will go where it’s most advantageous for his well-being and future.”

  “Then allow me to take my son. I beg of you. I will take care of him.”

  “You expect me to hand this child over to a father who can’t even manage his own life?”

  “But with my son, it’s going to be different. I can look after him,” said Seok Chun with an expression of determination.

  “Comrade, don’t work yourself up like this,” replied the judge in a conciliatory tone. “This is not a courtroom. Calm down and let’s talk about this. I called you here because I wanted to know a couple of things. First, if you would, begin with th
e time you met your wife. And second, tell me how the two of you grew to lack the same rhythm.”

  Seok Chun figured that Sun Hee had mentioned “rhythm” to the judge, and he smirked disdainfully. He took the cigarette Jeong Jin Wu offered him and let it hang from his thick lips. He stared at his sleeping son.

  “The very first time I met my wife was when I was in military service and was sent to the Superior Steel Production Factory to help out. That was about ten years ago. There were three of us, me and two other steel mechanics. We were supposed to install some fraise and a band around the polishing cylinder made by the Gang An Machine Factory.”

  A dark shadow veiled his soft eyes as he began reminiscing.

  At the end of the month, the Superior Steel Production Factory celebrated the hard work of the three mechanics and two technicians from the Gang An Machine Factory. The technicians, along with Seok Chun and his friends, were called up onstage. The board members of the Superior Steel Production Factory first acknowledged the efforts of Seok Chun and his friends before they honored the technicians.

  Seok Chun blushed when he looked at the cheering audience. He suddenly began to feel both anxiety and satisfaction about the acknowledgment that he was about to receive from the people for doing something so ordinary. He felt like a young fledgling that was attempting to spread its wings and fly for the first time. He did not feel as if his legs were planted on the stage.

  Three young women carrying bundles of flowers came up onstage. One of the young women was a friction press worker. She had a wide forehead and a slender physique. It was Chae Sun Hee. She wore a muslin dress that wrapped around her body like a morning fog. Sun Hee appeared graceful with her elegant dress, shapely figure, and beautiful face. She was holding flowers, which looked like they had blossomed from her chest.

  When Seok Chun saw Sun Hee approaching him, his elation suddenly subsided. He felt apprehensive, and his heart began to race like the heart of someone who had stolen something.

  Shit. Why of all women does she have to bring me flowers? thought Seok Chun.

  He tried his best not to look in Sun Hee’s direction. He could not forget the day he first met her, a month ago.

  When Seok Chun and his friends finally arrived at the village in the mountains after a long bus ride, they met Sun Hee on the side of the road, and she directed them to the factory. The road to the factory was neither complicated nor heavily congested, and if she had just given them directions, they would have been able to find the factory without a problem. But she extended her generosity to the men, got on the bus, and guided them to the front door of the factory. Her hospitable personality was the reason the manager of the factory had chosen Sun Hee, and not the accountant, to help the men settle into the factory and the village. That night in the dormitory room, Seok Chun lay in bed without feeling the least bit foreign in this new environment but slept soundly as if he were at home.

  In the morning, the sunlight peeked through the window blinds and woke Seok Chun from his deep slumber. Seok Chun, still half asleep, opened his heavy eyes and imagined Sun Hee’s face, her vibrant smile, her tender voice. He did not know what had possessed him to think about her. Perhaps it was because she was the first person he had met in the village. Perhaps it was her white face, large beautiful eyes, long eyelashes, and attractive figure that had captivated his youthful heart and left a deep impression on his mind. Like a wild chrysanthemum, she was divine, and the more he thought about her, the more he became infatuated with her.

  He got up from his bed and flung open the windows. The warm sunlight and cool breeze filled the room with life. A melodious river flowed from the mountains in the distance beyond the hills. His heart beat rapidly, unable to contain his excitement, at the thought of starting anew at the factory in the village. The sublime natural landscape gave him hope and joy, but it was evident that Sun Hee was the real source of his passion and his uncontrollable emotions.

  Seok Chun went down to the factory and saw Sun Hee in her dark uniform, working by the friction press. When she saw Seok Chun, she asked if he had slept well with the tender smile and beautiful tone of voice from yesterday. Seok Chun answered but then realized that the brevity of his response left no room for the conversation to continue. So he helped her lift some metal parts to the worktable to give her the impression that he was not here only to see her. He asked about the machine’s performance and other inconsequential matters.

  When the other workers saw Seok Chun, they knew that he did these things only because he fancied Sun Hee. Despite what others said behind his back, Seok Chun continued to help Sun Hee every chance he got. Even while assembling his own equipment, he would glance over in the direction of the friction press, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sun Hee.

  Amid the noise of all the running machines, Seok Chun was able to distinguish the sound of the friction press that Sun Hee operated. He could see drops of sweat rolling down her forehead, around her lustrous eyes, and down her white cheeks as she arduously worked the press. Such images of Sun Hee occupied Seok Chun’s thoughts and enlivened his soul.

  A month had passed. Seok Chun yearned for Sun Hee, suffered at the very thought of her. He suffered because he loved her. He loved her with all the more passion because he loved her innocently. He paced frantically in his dormitory room, trying to find the means to express his indescribable feelings for her. At that moment, he allowed the purest of the reveries that filled his mind to fall upon a piece of paper. He sprawled on the floor and wrote with intensity, transcribing the ecstasy of his soul. His pen could not keep up with the pace of his thoughts. He crossed out words or ripped up the entire letter and began again. He wrote deep into the night without fatigue. He had written many pages, but none was to his liking. He reread his letter to see if he had made any grammatical errors or if the letter conveyed his feelings properly. He omitted phrases that made him sound utterly desperate or too ravenous for her love while still attempting to reveal his honest feelings for her without any reservations. In the end, he had written a corny love letter very much like something one would find in a cheap romance novel. But he did not want the letter to be a love letter, even though he knew it could not be anything other than a love letter. He did not want Sun Hee to think of him as a deluded romantic. When he realized that his letter was nothing but a love letter, he threw it away in frustration.

  Early the next morning at the factory, Seok Chun asked the repairman in the next room, who worked closely with Sun Hee, to pass her a note requesting that she meet him by the willow trees near the riverbank in the evening.

  That night, the moon hid behind a thick veil of dark clouds, and the stars that had twinkled momentarily disappeared without a trace into the opaque sky. As the low clouds rolled in, the night grew darker. The air was still and humid.

  Seok Chun had been waiting an hour with his back against the willow tree. There was no sign of Sun Hee. In front of Sun Hee’s dormitory, tall streetlights lined the road. The brilliance of the lights reached the riverbank where Seok Chun was standing. A few workers passed by, but none who resembled Sun Hee.

  Clouds formed and raindrops began to fall. A few negligible drops at first, but then the rain began to beat on the leaves and bushes. Seok Chun became irritated, and then he felt lonely. Myriad thoughts crossed his mind.

  Did I invite her out too late in the evening? She probably doesn’t even care about me.

  He began to regret the time he had spent around the friction press, helping her load and unload heavy equipment. He was annoyed with himself. At the same time, he wondered why she had treated him so kindly if she had not even a hint of affection for him.

  The rain fell heavily. Seok Chun tried to avoid getting wet by standing under a willow tree, but it was futile. His clothes were soaked. He felt that the rain had found a way through the willow tree to mock him for behaving foolishly. But he also felt that the rain was helping him wash away all the feelings he had for Sun Hee—all those sleepless nights of thinking of her wh
en she did not even care for him.

  It had gotten later in the evening. The lights in the dormitory rooms began to turn off one by one. Seok Chun, who had been picking off flower petals, threw the stem away in disdain and left. The rain poured down mercilessly on him. His shoes and socks were drenched from stepping in muddy puddles, which intensified his frustration. To avoid the puddles, he decided to walk across the field of tall grass. Seok Chun meandered as though intoxicated and, struggling to keep his balance, proceeded in despair. Suddenly he fell into a ditch, a booby trap set by the neighborhood kids. Covered in mud, he wiped his hands on the wet grass to get some of the mud off, but instead he felt only a prickly sensation, as he was rubbing his hands on thorny weeds.

  At that moment, he heard rapid footsteps coming toward him. Then they stopped. Seok Chun lifted his head and saw on the path the silhouette of a woman holding an umbrella against the dim dormitory lights. In her other hand was a second umbrella. Seok Chun approached the woman as though he were being pulled in her direction. The woman did not appear to be frightened; she did not step aside. In the shadow of the umbrella, Seok Chun saw the face of Sun Hee.

  Sun Hee, with her hair disheveled from running and wet from the rain, appeared more attractive than ever.

  Breathing heavily, Sun Hee asked, “Have you been waiting long?”

  Even though Seok Chun perceived that she was apologetic for her tardiness, he asked curtly, “Did you have any intention of coming out tonight?”

  Sun Hee handed the second umbrella to Seok Chun without responding.

  He did not reach for the umbrella and instead remained upright, like a wooden post, with no life or expression. He then realized that she had brought him the umbrella out of pity, that had it not been for the rain, she would not have come out. As shame and regret combined with his damaged pride and frustration, he nearly burst like a pressurized smokestack and wanted to shout, Do I look pitiful to you? But he repressed his anger and, without a word, walked past Sun Hee.