The Only Child

by Mi-ae Seo

  He thought about the woman, the criminal psychologist.

  Thinking about it, he realized that Yi Byeongdo had changed since his interviews with her. He was quiet in his cell, perhaps because he had someone new to play with. As the interviews progressed, however, he became noticeably anxious. When he found out that she was no longer coming, his anxiety reached its peak. His attempt at suicide must have had something to do with her.

  Was it so unbearable for him not to see her? the security manager wondered.

  He had never liked the idea of the interviews, which had been Yi Byeongdo’s to begin with. He could not understand why so many people had to go about accommodating him, so that he could be interviewed when he wished—why all the fuss about finding out what was in the brain of someone like him?

  He wanted Yi Seonkyeong and no one else.

  Even in his cell, he could see whom he wished, when he wished. In a way, he possessed great power. The woman didn’t seem to know why he’d chosen her. There was no telling what he wanted to get out of the interviews, but things must have been absolutely to his advantage. It must’ve satisfied his ego. But the woman was no pushover.

  The security manager was shocked by the fact that she refused Yi Byeongdo and put a stop to the interviews. The sense of loss Yi Byeongdo suffered seemed to be as great as what he felt on the day he was sentenced to death. The desperation of not being able to see her again had made him do this. Was this indeed the end?

  That was what made the security manager uneasy. No one knew what Yi Byeongdo might do now. The thoughts followed, one after another, and sleep fled him; his uneasiness grew so much that he couldn’t lie still.

  In the end, he got up, thinking he should go back to the hospital. At that moment, the phone rang. The call was from one of the guards there. He said Yi Byeongdo had disappeared. What the security manager had been dreading had come true. He felt drained of all hope.

  Finally coming to himself, he spat curses into the phone.

  How had Yi Byeongdo escaped, in a condition like that?

  31.

  FOR YI BYEONGDO, FINDING OUT SEONKYEONG’S ADDRESS was a cinch.

  He looked around, standing in front of her house. There was no trace of anyone in the alley, it being late, with a heavy downpour and strong wind. He swiftly jumped over the wall by the gate. The wound on his neck felt hot, but it was bearable. When he was strangling the guard with the IV tubing, he thought the sutured wound would burst open again. With any further exertion, hot blood would’ve dripped down his neck.

  He had learned many useful things during his several stays in jail. Those who had come before him taught him how to find out someone’s address, and how to make it look as if you were bleeding a lot when the wound wasn’t deep.

  There was no hesitation in his steps as he walked through the yard.

  The torrential rain hushed up all the sounds he was making. He went up to the front door and put his hand gently on the doorknob, and turned it. The door was locked. He moved to the right and went to the window. Faint light leaked out through the curtains. The light swayed—it must be candlelight. He finally understood why all the streetlamps were out. The weather had caused a blackout. It was a good omen for him.

  There must be someone inside, if there was a lit candle.

  He turned back around and saw a little window. He guessed from the gas pipe passing through that it was the window to the kitchen. He went carefully up to the window, and checked to see if the door to the kitchen would open. The knob turned and he was about to open the door, when he saw through the window someone walking into the kitchen.

  He quickly leaned flat against the outside wall. The footsteps came closer.

  He heard the sound of dishes clinking, and the gas stove being turned on. He turned his head slightly and peeked out of the corner of his eye, and saw a woman standing in front of the stove. It was Seonkyeong.

  She was looking at the kettle on the stove. She seemed to be boiling some water for coffee. The blue flames lit up her face in the darkness. She was deep in thought. A strand of hair fell over her face, hiding it from view.

  He wanted to reach out a hand and brush back the fallen strand of hair. He wanted to drink the coffee she made, and talk about the days he had lived through. There was so much he wanted to say, but she didn’t want to listen. He suddenly remembered how cold she’d been with him.

  She was lying when she said she was giving me a chance. She’s going to pay for it, he thought.

  He began to hum a song in a low voice. It had begun once again. But this time, it really was going to be the last.

  A whistle came from the kettle. Seonkyeong, who had been staring at the kettle, got a coffee cup and poured water in it. She didn’t know that he was there. She wasn’t even interested in him.

  It had been that way from the beginning. She only wanted to know how he’d killed the women. She pretended otherwise, but he knew very well that she was deceiving him. That was why he’d ended the first interview so abruptly. He didn’t really have much to tell her. He didn’t want her to find that out.

  He wanted to see her face.

  He wanted her to look at him, smiling. He wanted her to listen to what he said, and understand his loneliness. The moment Seonkyeong talked about her first childhood memory, his expectations were shattered. Why did all the women he met start their lives with such trivial memories?

  He had hoped that Seonkyeong would be different. He’d thought that she was someone who would take a more serious look into his soul. He’d believed, just as the woman at the orchard house had taken home a child who had woken up in a hospital and accepted him without a word, that at least one other person in the world would see the emptiness inside him and sympathize with him. He’d thought that Seonkyeong was that person. But she only brought him disappointment.

  He saw her walk away with the cup in her hand. He watched to see which room she went into. Even after the door closed, he waited in the rain for a while.

  Cautiously, he began to walk again. He saw a door past the kitchen.

  He turned the doorknob, and the door opened without a sound. He hurried inside, afraid that the sound of rain would enter through the open door. It was dark, but his eyes had already grown used to the darkness. He could vaguely make out the contours of the objects. It seemed that he was in a utility room, with a boiler and a washing machine.

  He took out a towel from a laundry basket next to the washing machine, and carefully mopped his hair dry and wiped off his clothes. Water pooled on the floor.

  He threw the towel back into the basket and opened the door connecting the utility room to the rest of the house. He saw the kitchen where Seonkyeong had been a moment before.

  Walking toward the kitchen, he turned his head and looked at the sink for a moment, then began walking again.

  He noticed a knife block on a shelf. The wooden block held a number of efficient-looking knives. He pulled out a few and checked the blades, and took a sharp one. The handle fit snugly into his palm, as if it had been waiting for him. His grip on the knife tightened automatically.

  He turned around again, and walked cautiously toward the room she was in.

  WAKING UP, HAYEONG REALIZED that she was alone. She was lying by herself in the big bed. She looked around the unfamiliar room.

  Where was Seonkyeong?

  A black shadow swayed outside the window. She looked up and gazed out the window. She felt afraid, but as she looked carefully, she saw that it was the shadow of tree branches swaying.

  She sat up and fell into thought.

  She remembered the way Seonkyeong had looked at her. The kids who caught the cat had the same look on their faces when she wielded her knife at them. No one talked to her after that. They all avoided her. Seonkyeong, too, would turn away, with a cold expression on her face. Hayeong’s stomach felt cold. She didn’t feel good. She was obedient to Seonkyeong at first because she wanted to live with her dad, but now Hayeong wanted to live with her, too
. But Seonkyeong wouldn’t want to live with her anymore.

  She couldn’t ask her dad what she should do, because he was away on a business trip, at a time like this. She had to think and decide for herself.

  She hadn’t expected Seonkyeong to find out about it. The problem was the fire fighter.

  When she came into Seonkyeong’s room to lie down next to her, Seonkyeong’s cell phone made an alert sound. A text message had arrived. Seonkyeong was knocked out from the medicine. Thinking it might be her dad, Hayeong flipped the cell phone open. But the words on the screen took her by surprise.

  Reinvestigation of the Pak Eunju suicide confirms the same poison was used in the Eungam-dong fire. Yu Dongsik

  The message was from the fire fighter whose name she’d seen on a card. Pak Eunju was her mom’s name. Hayeong took a long look at the message. She didn’t understand what it meant, but it felt strange to see her mom’s name. The fire fighter seemed to have found out about her mom. And since he texted Seonkyeong about it, they both seemed to know Hayeong’s secret.

  She deleted the message and put the cell phone back down on the table.

  What should I do? I made up my mind not to tell anyone about this, not even Dad, but now Seonkyeong knows. Will she tell him? What would he say if he found out that I set the house on fire? Hayeong thought, trying to picture how her dad would look.

  She was afraid of how angry he would be. She didn’t want to think about anything at the moment. She wanted to get some sleep first, next to Seonkyeong. That was what she was thinking. Then Seonkyeong groaned in pain, looking sick. Hayeong felt her head. It was hot. She seemed very sick. She woke up. Hayeong stayed lying by her side, even when she told her to go upstairs.

  Hayeong fell asleep, and then woke up; Seonkyeong was gone.

  Hayeong was afraid that she’d gone to call her dad already. She saw that the cell phone was still on the table, however, so maybe Seonkyeong hadn’t gone to make a phone call.

  I should be the one to tell him, Hayeong thought, and began to think about what she’d say to him.

  It was certain that he wouldn’t like the fact that she had set fire to her grandparents’ house. On top of that, she’d kept the thing she had promised him to throw away. He would remember, and be angry. When he came back from his trip, Seonkyeong would tell on her for sure.

  Seonkyeong knew too many of her secrets. She even found out about the birds Hayeong had kept hidden in the dresser. Thinking about it, Hayeong grew anxious. She wondered what Seonkyeong was doing.

  Hayeong opened the bedroom door and began to walk carefully. She went up to the study door with muffled steps. She must be inside, Hayeong thought. She put her ear to the door and waited to see if there was any sound. What she heard was a man’s voice. Hayeong nearly yelped. Dad isn’t back yet—who is this man? she wondered. Again, she pressed her face against the door and listened.

  Hayeong’s curiosity intensified.

  A MAN’S LARGE HAND CLAMPED over Seonkyeong’s mouth.

  Seonkyeong, who had been sitting in a chair, lost in thought, hadn’t even heard someone come in. A man suddenly lunged at her, held her tight with one hand, and put his other hand over her mouth, throwing her into utter confusion. The hand that held her had a knife in it. Fear and dread washed over her.

  A strange man had entered the house, probably climbing over the wall, taking advantage of the rainy night. Every cell in her body felt frozen. Then she heard the man’s voice. It was a familiar voice.

  “I came to see you . . . because you wouldn’t come see me,” the voice said.

  Yi Byeongdo. He had come. She felt momentary relief that it was someone she knew, but then her blood ran cold.

  He had escaped from prison.

  There was no telling how he’d escaped and made it to her house, but the boldness of the act and lack of reserve hinted at his mental state. He’d come to this dead end on his own two feet, with no hesitation whatsoever, which meant that he didn’t care if he died; he had nothing to fear.

  His body felt cold and damp, probably from having been in the cold rain for a long time. Seonkyeong felt goose bumps rise as his cold skin touched her cheek. She felt his cold body against her back. She relaxed her own body, to hide the fact that she was recoiling in fear, and to appear calm.

  Yi Byeongdo sensed her relax, and his arms loosened their grip.

  “Promise me you won’t scream, even if I take my hands off you,” he said, his breath on her cheek. His face was right next to hers.

  Seonkyeong nodded quietly, and he slowly took his hand off her mouth.

  “Why don’t you . . . take the knife away, too? If you’re not here to kill me, that is,” she said.

  “Well . . . I haven’t made up my mind yet,” he replied.

  Seonkyeong waited without saying anything. He buried his nose in her hair for a moment, sniffing it, and then let her go. Seonkyeong, who had been nervous with tension, gave a light sigh, and turned around and looked at him. He scratched his head, then took a step back and put the knife on a corner of the table.

  Seeing him shiver all of a sudden from the cold, Seonkyeong handed him Jaeseong’s shirt from a chair. He declined, shaking his head.

  “You’ll catch a cold,” she said, at which he began to chuckle. He took a deliberate look around the study.

  “So this is . . . your world?” he said.

  Seonkyeong couldn’t answer; she couldn’t believe her eyes. Why was he standing here before her, when he should be sleeping in his solitary cell? She must be dreaming, no matter how she thought about it.

  “Will you tell me what happened?” she asked.

  Yi Byeongdo, who had been looking at the books on the bookshelves, turned around to look at her and smiled.

  “Does it matter where I am? What matters to me is that I’m with you right now,” he said.

  Seonkyeong thought of the security manager. He was the one who, more than anyone else, must have wanted Yi Byeongdo to be in his place. She wondered if he knew what was going on.

  “It’s finally time to answer your first question,” Yi Byeongdo said.

  He thought back to the day he first saw her.

  For the first time, he told her about the orchard house. It was the answer to her question about the fur mother monkey. Looking at her face as she listened earnestly, he felt as though he were once again back at the orchard house.

  He wanted to end the long journey.

  No one is born through his own will. But living, or putting an end to living, can be your choice.

  He’d felt relieved that he no longer heard the song in his head. He hadn’t murdered of his own will. He’d had no other choice. It didn’t matter that he was caught and taken to prison. All he wanted was for the song, which had tormented him relentlessly, to come to an end. No matter how hard he listened, he didn’t hear it again. He’d felt that he could finally sleep in peace. It didn’t matter that he was in prison. He was even grateful for a solitary cell, where only condemned criminals stayed. He’d thought that his mother’s ghost had finally left him.

  That’s what he’d thought, until he saw Seonkyeong’s face. After he saw her, he fell into confusion again. He felt that he’d run into someone he had so longed for; on the other hand, he didn’t want to show himself to her. He couldn’t see her, looking the way he did. But he couldn’t give up this opportunity that had come to him after twenty years. In the end, his desire to see her triumphed.

  Seonkyeong, however, was not the woman at the orchard house. He ate the first apple Seonkyeong brought, but it didn’t taste sweet. The apples he had tasted in his paradise felt like an unattainable dream now.

  “How could you do this to me? How could you leave without even saying goodbye?” he asked.

  “I thought it would be better for you not to know” was Seonkyeong’s reply.

  He shook his head.

  “No, you lied to me. You were supposed to give me a chance, but didn’t. The song was driving me insane, but you didn�
��t give a damn about me. You’re just like her. I thought you were the woman at the orchard house, but you’re just like my mom,” he went on.

  “I’m neither of them. There are other people in the world besides your mother and the woman at the orchard house,” Seonkyeong said.

  She had more to say, but he wouldn’t listen. He pounced on her. He looked into her eyes while strangling her. He no longer heard her voice. The song was thumping in his head.

  Humming the song for the last time, he thought, was the only way to make it stop.

  “If you’d only . . . only told me one thing, I would’ve been happy. Was I really so awful to you, Mom? Did I never bring you happiness? Could I never make you smile?” he asked.

  Sensing danger in his eyes, Seonkyeong began to fiercely resist. But her resistance was something he could easily suppress. Strangling her and feeling the tendons standing out in his arms, he counted in his mind.

  When he shoved her against a wall and tightened his grip on her neck, her violent struggle began to subside and so did her panting. Her breath touched his cheek. He squeezed with all the strength left in his hands. Her hands, which had been scratching his arms, dropped and dangled limply in the air.

  Dying was so simple.

  He lifted one hand and pushed back the strands of hair covering her face. He leaned against her head and closed his eyes for a moment. The tears filling his eyes trickled down his cheeks.

  At that moment, he felt a severe pain at his side. He looked down and saw a knife stuck there.

  How strange, he thought, the knife should be on the table. He looked up, and saw a little girl, looking at him from a few feet away. Unruffled, she was watching with serene eyes to see how things unfolded.

  So this is your cat? Yi Byeongdo thought, and removed one hand from Seonkyeong’s neck and felt his side where the knife stabbed him. He wasn’t bleeding much. But he didn’t like the peculiar sensation of the knife piercing his body. Clenching his teeth, he pulled it out. Blood gushed from the wound.