The Only Child

by Mi-ae Seo

  The right corner of his mouth lifted. Watching him wait for her reaction with sparkling eyes, Seonkyeong thought she shouldn’t let him call the shots again.

  Seonkyeong chuckled and calmly opened her notebook, saying, “Let’s talk about something else.”

  Yi Byeongdo never answered her first question, either. There was no reason why she should answer his. An invisible struggle between the two was creating tension. How will he react this time?

  “Why are you avoiding the subject? Bad memories?” he asked.

  “I’m not here to talk, I’m here to listen.”

  “Is that all? It seems to me that there’s something you don’t want to remember.”

  Seonkyeong said nothing in reply.

  “Just as you want to hear my story, I want to hear yours. It’s tedious, very tedious in here.”

  Déjà vu. She had seen this before. Then she remembered. Damned Clarice Starling. Hannibal Lecter said the same words to Agent Starling in The Silence of the Lambs.

  “If you want to hear my story, you should tell yours,” said Yi Byeongdo.

  “Are you trying to reenact the movie?”

  Yi Byeongdo snickered and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it’s a common deal that even a child knows. You give one, you take one. It’s only fair.”

  Someone who had taken the lives of at least thirteen people was talking about fairness. Seonkyeong wanted to ask him what he had given each and every time he took a life.

  “I’m not sure because I haven’t thought about it,” she said.

  “Think about it. There’s plenty of time.”

  Seonkyeong put her pen down and looked at him. Just as she expected, he didn’t want to lose. She decided to give in a little, so that he would open up. She lowered her eyes for a moment and fell into thought, then spoke.

  “Red shoes. Red shoes my mother bought me. That’s my first memory.”

  He narrowed his eyes and looked at Seonkyeong. He was probably trying to see how truthful she was being. In a moment, he shook his head.

  “I’m disappointed. I thought I’d get to hear something original,” he taunted.

  Seonkyeong shrugged, and picked up her pen again.

  “What’s your first memory?” she asked.

  “My first memory? Swimming in the amniotic fluid in my mom’s belly,” he said, his face expressionless. His eyes, however, were twinkling, waiting for her response. Seonkyeong, about to take notes, saw his eyes and realized that he was teasing her.

  “So, how did it feel?” she asked.

  “Like I would suffocate. The water was filthy.”

  He must not have good memories of his mother. A look of hatred flashed across his face.

  It occurred to Seonkyeong that most people’s first memories would probably have something to do with their mother. She didn’t believe that he remembered being in the womb, but she could sense that he had some intense feelings about his mother. She recalled what she’d read in the study the night before about his family. It was written that Yi Byeongdo, who had lived with just his mother when he was younger, had been on his own since he was seventeen, when she left home.

  “Let’s talk about your mother, shall we?” Seonkyeong said.

  At those words, Yi Byeongdo leaned back in his chair, looking at her with his eyes narrowed, as if to guess at her intent in asking the question.

  In a moment, Yi Byeongdo sat up. He then leaned forward, and inched close to her face.

  Suddenly, he was singing a pop song in a low voice: Bang! Bang!

  Seonkyeong stopped in her tracks at this unexpected behavior, and raised her head.

  He was smiling a genuine smile. His eyes were full of mischief. She felt that he was throwing stones to trigger her curiosity. The question was, Were the stones meaningful?

  The song he sang was the Beatles’ “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.”

  As far as she knew, “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” was a song that came out in the 1960s.

  If it hadn’t been for Professor Klen, her psychology advisor, she wouldn’t have known the song.

  Professor Klen, a big fan of the Beatles, liked to have barbeque parties with his students in his backyard. The music playing in the background was always the Beatles. If someone so much as asked him the title of a song, he would spill out all sorts of stories, his eyes twinkling, including the anecdote about the day he bought his first Beatles album, and tales about different songs as well as behind-the-scenes details. The stories always ended with him saying that the Beatles died in his heart after his visit to John Lennon’s grave.

  Seonkyeong was somewhat surprised that Yi Byeongdo knew the song. Neither Seonkyeong nor he was of a generation that had easy access to this song. Had there been a big fan of the Beatles around him, like Professor Klen?

  “That’s a Beatles song. That song is your first memory?” she asked.

  His eyes widened all of a sudden. He stared at Seonkyeong, then burst out laughing.

  “Wow, it’s great to meet someone who knows this song!” he said, his voice louder. He seemed to be in a good mood. He was probably pleased that Seonkyeong knew the song he liked. A common theme, though insignificant, could make it easier to talk to each other. Seonkyeong thanked Professor Klen in her heart, and looked at Yi Byeongdo.

  “Does that song have a special meaning to you?” she asked.

  His face inched even closer at the question she had thrown out casually. He looked fixedly into Seonkyeong’s eyes and whispered in a low voice. Even with her ears perked up, Seonkyeong could barely hear him.

  “All the women I sang this song to . . . died at my hands,” he said.

  Seonkyeong felt as if a piece of ice were sliding down her back. Again, she saw a chill in his eyes. His face, seemingly gentle and full of mischief, was beset with eyes that were cold and empty. Which one was his true self?

  Seonkyeong could not avoid his gaze, which was fixed on her. From his expression, she could see that he was telling the truth.

  He didn’t hum this song just because he had happened to hear it and liked it. If he sang it to each of the women he killed, it must be some kind of a symbol. It meant something that was his and his alone. Seonkyeong realized at last that the stones he had thrown were puzzle pieces that would lead her to understand him.

  With satisfaction, he looked at the shock in Seonkyeong’s eyes, and the furrows forming in her forehead, as if he didn’t want to miss a single effect his words were having on her. It was as if he had thrown a rock into a lake to watch the ripples spread out.

  Still watching Seonkyeong, he slowly licked his lips. They glistened with moisture. Seonkyeong watched his movements as if hypnotized. Smiling with satisfaction, he slowly took his eyes off her.

  In a loud voice, different from that of a moment before, he called to the prison guard.

  “The interview is over.”

  It hadn’t even been ten minutes. Puzzled by this abrupt change in attitude, Seonkyeong rose awkwardly to her feet.

  The guard seemed used to Yi Byeongdo’s whims. He was sitting in front of the door, but rose quickly and undid the handcuffs on his hands and the chair. Then the guard put his hands together, handcuffed him again, and brought him to his feet.

  Yi Byeongdo walked slowly to the door. He didn’t even look at Seonkyeong. In haste, Seonkyeong blocked his way.

  “Hey, wait . . . we haven’t really talked yet,” she said.

  “I think it wasn’t too bad for our first meeting, don’t you?” was his reply.

  Seonkyeong was at a loss for words.

  He was like a chameleon that kept changing.

  Just a short while ago he had looked genuinely happy to meet her, but now he had changed colors, turning cold, as if he no longer wanted to deal with her. He walked past her and stood at the door. The guard turned and glanced at Seonkyeong, then opened the door and led Yi Byeongdo out.

  Stunned, Seonkyeong simply stood there for a while, then rushed out after him.
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  She had driven no less than an hour from Seoul. She couldn’t let the interview end in vain like this.

  “Do you not want to have this interview?” Seonkyeong shouted at Yi Byeongdo, who was already quite a distance away. At her words, he came to a stop. He stood there for a moment, then turned his head and looked at her.

  “That’s it for today. Let’s meet again in two days. At the same hour. Oh, and from now on, when you come see me, bring me an apple. One that’s very big and fresh, and satisfying to the bone when you take a bite.”

  With those words, he turned around, leaving Seonkyeong feeling flustered. He returned to his cell, as majestically as a master being escorted by a servant.

  Seonkyeong was dumbfounded. She felt humiliated. Angry, she began stamping her feet when the security manager approached her from the corridor across from her.

  “Didn’t I tell you? Wouldn’t it have been better not to meet him?” the security manager asked.

  There must be a CCTV camera installed somewhere in the room.

  “He was supposed to have an interview once with a producer from a broadcasting company. The producer thought he was getting a big scoop and showed up all excited on the appointed day with a camera. Do you know what happened?”

  Seonkyeong couldn’t imagine.

  “He made him wait three hours and, in the end, refused to see him. The producer must’ve gone home spewing out every curse word he knew.”

  Was Seonkyeong supposed to take comfort in knowing that she had at least done better than him? She laughed in spite of herself. She had anticipated that it wouldn’t be easy. But she hadn’t realized that she wouldn’t be given even the minimum time required for an interview. She hadn’t had a chance to ask the questions she had prepared.

  “You wouldn’t have gotten that much out of it anyway. Think how bored he must be, living the same day over and over again in solitary confinement, with no one visiting him. So he wants someone to play with him for a little while. It’s better to stop here. It’s a waste of time. Are you going to be his plaything?”

  The manager’s sarcastic remarks actually made her feel better.

  Listening to his words, she thought back on the short visit she’d had with Yi Byeongdo, and realized it hadn’t been fruitless.

  His attitude, his movements, his gaze while looking at her, his reactions, his questions, and even the Beatles song he offered—all this was information that couldn’t be obtained from three encyclopedias’ worth of materials. With this much gained, there was no reason to feel dejected. Her anxiety lifted. Seonkyeong made a point of smiling cheerfully at the security manager.

  “See you in two days,” she said.

  Seeing the manager’s face start to contort, Seonkyeong headed back to the visitors’ room to get her briefcase. She heard the manager’s voice behind her. He was mumbling as if to himself, but his voice was loud enough for her to hear.

  “What good can come of getting involved with a bastard like that? You’ll regret it in the end.”

  10.

  SEONKYEONG PARKED HER CAR IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE AND turned off the engine.

  Her body was as heavy as wet cotton. She heaved a sigh. Overcome by sudden fatigue, she wanted to go inside and immerse herself in a hot bath. She wanted to relieve her nerves that were exhausted from meeting Yi Byeongdo. She wanted to relax her body and mind, take a cold shower, and look back on everything that had been said with a refreshed mind. Contrary to her wishes, however, something unexpected was awaiting her at home.

  As she opened the front door and entered the house, she noticed a child’s pair of sneakers next to Jaeseong’s shoes.

  She entered the living room, wondering whose shoes they were, and saw a girl, about ten years old, sitting vacantly on the sofa without even noticing her come in.

  Seonkyeong took a cautious look around. She saw that the door to the main bedroom was open, and recalled seeing Jaeseong’s shoes by the front door.

  He must’ve brought the girl, she thought.

  Seonkyeong knew that Jaeseong had had a child with his ex-wife. But she had never imagined that she would end up meeting her in this way. He had said that his ex-wife wouldn’t allow him to see the child. So after the divorce, he never saw her.

  So why was she sitting there on Seonkyeong’s sofa now?

  Slowly, Seonkyeong approached the child.

  The child, who had been looking straight ahead in a daze, finally sensed that someone was watching her, and turned her head and looked at Seonkyeong.

  The child wasn’t surprised to see her. No emotion whatsoever could be detected on her face.

  Even at a glance, the child’s fair skin and large eyes had the power to draw one in. Long, thick lashes covered her eyes, which, under the shadow of the lashes, had a plaintive quality about them. Her mouth, firmly closed, hinted that she was shrewd beyond her age.

  The child looked quietly at Seonkyeong for a moment, then turned her gaze back to the living room window, as if to say she wasn’t interested. A grassy yard and the gate could be seen through the window. The child must have been watching Seonkyeong as she came in through the gate.

  Seonkyeong was about to say something to her when she heard someone approaching behind her.

  “Oh, you’re home?”

  Jaeseong’s voice was shaky and unstable, which was unusual; he must not have expected her to come home early.

  “Say hello, Hayeong,” he said to his daughter.

  He rushed over to the sofa and got the child up on her feet. Only then did Seonkyeong notice the teddy bear in her hand.

  The bear was tattered and grimy, so dirty that you could hardly tell what color it had been in the first place. Jaeseong had pulled the child to her feet, but she was still just staring at Seonkyeong with those clear eyes.

  “Say hello,” Jaeseong repeated, but the child remained silent, her mouth firmly closed. He put his hand on her head and tried to make her bow.

  “Don’t. You don’t have to make her if she doesn’t want to,” Seonkyeong said.

  Jaeseong shook his head, thrown off by the child’s attitude.

  “What’s going on?” Seonkyeong asked.

  “Stay here. I’m going to go talk to the lady,” Jaeseong said, sitting the child back down on the sofa. Then he took Seonkyeong’s arm and headed toward the main bedroom. Seonkyeong felt uncomfortable. She was tired as it was, and felt on edge because Jaeseong was flustered, which wasn’t like him.

  Once in the bedroom, he checked to make sure that the child was sitting on the sofa, and quietly closed the door. But he hesitated, avoiding Seonkyeong’s gaze, and paced around the room.

  Seonkyeong spoke first, unable to wait any longer. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  He sat down on a corner of the bed, as if he had been waiting for those words, and looked at her, combing his hand through his hair. Deep wrinkles, usually not there, had formed around his eyes.

  “I don’t know where to start explaining. And I don’t know how you’ll take it . . . ,” he began.

  “What on earth is this about? Tell me,” Seonkyeong said.

  “Remember that phone call early this morning?”

  “It said that there was an urgent patient . . .”

  Seonkyeong stared at him, not finishing her sentence. He had gone to work, not even properly dressed, after getting that phone call.

  “It was about her,” Seonkyeong said.

  “It was the police. Telling me to take the child, Hayeong, home.”

  “What . . . do you mean? Didn’t you say that she was with her mom?”

  “I didn’t tell you, but . . . not too long after you and I got married, her mom passed away. Hayeong has been in the care of her grandparents since.”

  It was almost a year since they had gotten married. For some reason, Seonkyeong felt a chill in her heart.

  “When did you find out?” she asked.

  “I got a phone call and went to the funeral. I couldn’t . . . tell you. It ha
dn’t even been that long since we got married, and I couldn’t bring up something like that.”

  All kinds of thoughts and emotions got mixed up together within her, and she didn’t know what to say.

  As Jaeseong said, it wouldn’t have been easy to bring up something like that. In a way, it wasn’t something that Seonkyeong had to know, even. If things had ended there, there would have been no need for him to bring it up. Still, she wished he had told her before. How much more did he have buried in his heart?

  Seonkyeong blinked, trying to sort out her thoughts. After the divorce, the child’s name had been transferred to her mother’s side of the family register. With her mother gone, she should be with her father again. But the death had occurred a year ago. Why had he brought her here today?

  “If her mother passed away, shouldn’t you have brought her here a long time ago?” she asked.

  “Well . . . her grandparents wouldn’t let her go.”

  “And now they tell you to take her all of a sudden? Did they say they couldn’t raise her anymore?”

  Jaeseong paused. “A fire broke out at dawn and the house burnt down. My in-laws . . . that is, Hayeong’s grandparents, both died in the fire.”

  “Oh no.”

  Seonkyeong looked at him, unable to go on. She could see now why those deep wrinkles had formed on his face in less than a day.

  Seonkyeong looked toward the closed bedroom door as if she could see through it to the living room without realizing it. The child had lost her grandparents in a fire, not even a year after she had lost her mother. She recalled how the child had been sitting vacantly on the sofa, looking devastated.

  The child hadn’t reacted in any way even when she saw Seonkyeong.

  She had lost everything in the fire the night before. The house she had lived in had burnt down, and her grandparents had died. Just as one can’t hear for a while after hearing something too loud, she couldn’t respond to anything because of the shock. Her heart must be empty.