by Un-su Kim
Suddenly, smelling something foul come from his sheets, I lifted Professor Kwon’s blanket. The bed sheets were thoroughly soaked with Professor Kwon’s runny excrement. Even when unconscious, his body knew how to take care of business. They say the last thing condemned criminals do when being hanged to death is soil themselves. They spend the last moment of their lives shitting themselves. Thinking about it, it’s both kind of funny and a bit horrifying.
I took off Professor Kwon’s pants and removed from them his shit-stained diaper. Then with a wet towel, I wiped his anus and genitals. Boredom must have overcome me because I decided to lift Professor’s penis with my thumb and index finger and asked in a serious tone, “Hey, Mr Penis. Have you ever been used for anything else besides taking a whiz?” Of course, Mr Penis didn’t answer my question. But then again, what would I expect from such a shy-looking penis.
Lying in the bedpan beneath the bed, whether by the nurse’s mistake or by design, was an unused diaper. I changed his diaper then took the bed sheets, soiled diaper, and bedpan out into the hallway where there was a special bin for used diapers. The bin was already full of the excrement of patients who had lost the ability to tell the difference between number one and number two. I threw the diaper in the bin and went to the restrooms to clean the bedpan. Despite being stained with Professor Kwon’s loose stool, it smelled more strongly of medicine. The doctors had given him enema medicine called Monilak to prevent his liver, which was having trouble detoxifying his blood, from being overwhelmed. Forcing him to have diarrhea right after every meal prevented his body from producing ammonia, which needed to be processed in the liver. And so, he would eat only to immediately have diarrhea. And because not eating wasn’t a choice, he would have to eat again, which would make him have diarrhea again. It was a truly wretched cycle.
When I returned from the restrooms, K was waiting for me in front of Professor Kwon’s hospital room. Looking calm and relaxed as always and with a sneer on his face.
“I heard the news. I guess he’s not waking up again.”
I didn’t say anything, and just nodded my head. I thought to myself that the syndicate’s showing up here now was ideally timed to take advantage of me. After all, I had no pride in Cabinet 13 and wanted to free myself of it as quickly as possible. Getting a large sum of money would make things even better. Unfortunately, I had nothing to sell them.
“Have you thought more about our offer?” K asked.
“I don’t think this is the best time to talk about it.”
“I disagree. Now is the most appropriate time for you to decide. Things will only get more complicated once Professor Kwon passes. His office will be cleared out and the research data dispersed.”
“You should go. I don’t know anything about it, and I don’t want to be involved anymore.”
“Please reconsider. You have no need of those files.”
“I’ll be frank with you. If I did have those chimera files, I would have sold them to you. As you say, I have no need for them, and two billion won is no small amount of money. But Professor Kwon doesn’t have the chimera files. And if he did, I wouldn’t know anything about them. He didn’t leave me with any clues. So, it seems to me like we have nothing more to talk about.”
“Then it appears our deal is off?”
“We never made a deal in the first place. The only thing we’ve exchanged is your business card.”
“This is quite befuddling. And very regrettable.”
K politely bowed to me then left.
Once K was gone, I started worrying about the things that would happen after Professor Kwon’s death. Would I really be able to leave behind Cabinet 13 irresponsibly like that, like nothing over the past several years mattered? Regardless of how conflicted I might be over it, it seemed like that was what was ultimately going to happen. After all, there was absolutely nothing I could do for the damaged souls of Cabinet 13.
Perhaps the true reason Professor Kwon chose me as his assistant was because I was an idiot capable of doing absolutely nothing. Perhaps all he truly needed was a janitor. He didn’t need a scientist or a flask or a test bench; all he needed was a librarian—in fact, a simple cabinet. But why? Why did he need an empty cabinet like me? I was nothing more than an empty tin can.
“I once saw this article about the Amazon rainforest. I guess giant fast food chains like McDonalds are burning the Amazon rainforest just to get beef for their hamburgers. Each hour in the Amazon rainforest, there are seven thousand forest fires. This means that at the current rate, the Amazon rainforest will disappear in a hundred years from now. It means the lungs of the Earth will disappear. It means it will slowly get harder and harder to breathe. It means life itself will disappear from the Earth. But is anything changing? Is anyone able to stop McDonalds? And why do you think that’s the case? It’s because there are selfish people like yourself on this Earth. If only people like yourself were gone from the planet, everything would return to peace.”
“And what about you? Don’t tell me you’ve never had a hamburger.”
BLUE LITMUS PAPER
I was on my way to work waiting for the bus when a man in his mid-fifties approached me.
“Excuse me, are you Mr Kong by any chance?” he asked.
The man was handsome, somewhat like a salesman, but his spray-on smile, which was cheap to the point of looking obsequious, made him seem a bit simpleminded. I answered yes.
“Thank goodness it’s you, Mr Kong. Thank goodness,” the man said, sounding like a child. He looked so ridiculous I couldn’t help but scoff.
“What’s so good about that? And what’s it to you?”
“It’s very good. Very good, indeed. If you weren’t Mr Kong I would have to look all over this city again for him. I’m sorry for coming to you like this so early in the morning and without notice, but could you spare me a minute? It won’t take long. I’m sorry about this, but the work I do always has to be done immediately. If you’re afraid of being late to work, we can talk while I drive you to work.”
The man pointed to his car in the distance. It was a compact car and very vintage.
“No, if it won’t take long, we can finish our business here. I’ll just take the bus to the subway when we’re done. After all, I don’t even know you.”
“Then perhaps I can give you a ride to the station. I think we’ll have enough time on the ride there.”
The man still had yet to reveal who he was. But even so, I did need to go to the subway station, and it was ten minutes by bus; if that’s how much of my time he was going to take, I didn’t see much of a problem. I accepted the man’s offer and got into his car. His movements were quick as he hopped into the driver’s seat. After starting the car, the man said, as if humming a tune, “I would be very thankful if you could fasten your seatbelt. Belts save lives!”
“What a square,” I muttered to myself as I buckled my seatbelt. The man tried to remove an object from his suit’s breast pocket, but it seemed to be caught on something. I assumed he was trying to remove his wallet to give me his business card. However, the thing he pulled from his pocket looked more like an electric shaver.
“What’s that?” I asked, a little suspicious
“Nothing. Just an electronic device of sorts. It’s made in Germany, but the engineering is just average. Do you want to see for yourself?”
The man held out the device. Despite not being too interested, I craned my neck as I pretended to give it a perfunctory look. The man then suddenly put the device to my neck. All I saw before passing out was a flash and some sparks.
I was in an office when I regained consciousness. My body was tied to a chair and my hands were restrained by handcuffs. Because the blinds were closed, I couldn’t tell where exactly I was, but hearing the sound of cars honking from below, I guessed it was some tall building downtown. The office was clean. There was a telephone, a fax machine, and a desk, as well as a reception room, just like a regular office. A shelf on one wall was packed
with books. In the room opposite that wall was an operating table and several tools that looked like medical instruments. It seemed to be a dental office of sorts.
Watching TV was the man I had met that morning. Skinny and of average height, he looked to be in his fifties, and had dull eyes. Because of his gentle and good-natured appearance, he didn’t seem like the sort of person who would stun you with a taser or kidnap you. Then again, I had no idea what a professional kidnapper would look like.
It seemed like he was watching a comedy program. With his arms crossed, he stared at the TV and knitted his brows as though he couldn’t understand something. I had never seen someone watch comedy with such a grave look on their face before.
“I don’t get it,” he muttered to himself. “Why do people find that funny?” He then turned to look at me. “Awake, are we?” His voice was calm, as though he was asking his coworker how they had slept the night before.
I sat there in silence. The man took a cigarette from his coat pocket and stuck it in his mouth. As he brought the lighter close to his face to light the cigarette, his face turned to shock as he exclaimed, “Right!” as if he had just remembered something. “I’ve tried to quit several times, but I always end up failing because I forget that I’ve quit. Habits are a scary thing. Have you experienced that?”
Holding the unlit cigarette, the man made a look of embarrassment, as though he pitied himself for forgetting that he had quit smoking. It was a bit absurd, though. He had tased, kidnapped, and handcuffed another man, and all he had to talk about now was how he couldn’t quit smoking?
“What do you think you’re doing? I already told that K guy I know nothing about the chimera files,” I shouted. The man looked shocked by my shouting.
“Ah, yes! We’ll get to that in a bit. There’ll be a phone call any minute now. I think it best only to talk once I’ve heard from them. To be honest, I’m also not quite sure what we’re doing here. Anyhow, what was it that we were discussing? It’s going to kill me if I don’t remember it.”
The man tightly knitted his brows, trying to recall what he had been talking about. Looking at him, I couldn’t help but think he was an idiot. Then suddenly, the man began speaking again as if he had finally remembered.
“Ah, yes! I asked if you had ever tried to quit smoking but failed to quit smoking because you forgot that you had quit smoking. That was it. So, have you?”
“Never.”
I answered his question despite how ridiculously he was acting.
“That’s very strange. Everyone’s tried to quit smoking at least once. Sometimes just for kicks, you know.”
“If you’ve quit smoking, why do you carry around cigarettes?” I asked testily.
“Not carrying around cigarettes makes it unclear whether I’ve ever quit smoking at all. And I can’t stand things that are unclear.”
“Do you know how serious what you’re doing is? This is a crime. It’s kidnapping. I hope you have a good plan to get out of this.”
“I already told you; we’ll talk about that later. After I get the call.”
The man said this with a smile. He then returned to the TV, sat down on the sofa, and focused on the comedy program as if he weren’t bothered in the least by the crime he was committing. Each time audience laughter roared out of the television set, the man’s face went cross. “What on Earth is so funny? Damn, this is getting on my nerves. Everyone’s laughing and I’m here alone missing the joke,” the man muttered under his breath. Listening to him talking to himself, I thought to myself, “That’s because you’re too stupid to get it.” His face looked so naïve as he focused on the television.
The man would look at the clock from time to time as he watched TV and make a “What’s taking so long?” sort of face. He had been waiting for several minutes now. But I couldn’t tell what it was exactly he was waiting for, and I wanted to know. Only when the thing he was waiting for arrived could my situation change, be it for better or worse. And if my situation didn’t change, I would have to continue sitting here with that man watching a comedy program with a grave face. To make things worse, my hands were numb because the handcuffs were so tight.
“Maybe you’re right,” the man spoke up suddenly. “Maybe quitting smoking is a fool’s errand. After all, you’re more likely to die in a car crash than from smoking.”
When he finished, he took out another cigarette and lit it. Then sitting back and relaxing, he took a long satisfying drag on the cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke. The cigarette smoke had a very pleasant aroma.
“Oh, how rude of me. Do you want one?”
“I’d rather you take these handcuffs off me.”
“No can do, kiddo.”
“Then at least loosen them a bit. My arms are going numb.”
Initially, the handcuffs had actually been quite loose, but by wriggling my fingers around I had accidently tightened them to the point where I couldn’t move. The reason I had moved my fingers so much was because of the silly hope that I might be able to unlock them myself. But because of the teeth on the inside of the cuffs, once they ratcheted tighter, there was no going back. In other words, the handcuffs could move only in one direction, and that direction was tighter. The man came over to me, fiddled with the handcuffs, unlocked them with his keys, then loosely handcuffed me again. He also stuck a cigarette in my mouth and lit it for me.
“Do you know what handcuffs and quagmires have in common?” the man asked as he lit my cigarette.
I took a long drag on the cigarette before saying, “What do they have in common?” Truthfully, I had little interest in the commonalities between handcuffs and quagmires.
“The more you struggle, the deeper you sink.”
The man grinned slightly as if to tell me he knew the handcuffs hadn’t become tighter on their own. At that moment, the phone rang. The man turned off the TV with the remote and answered the phone. He stood there for a while with the receiver next to his ear. The person on the other end of the line was doing most of the talking.
“Yes, yes. And that’s as far as I’m going. I don’t want any more involvement in this.”
The man then hung up the phone. As far as what…? The man peered through the blinds with his finger, then lit another cigarette.
“I like this place. It’s in the city; it’s high up and the view is nice; it gets a lot of sunlight; and all the cars and people look like ants from here. It’s much better than talking in some dark dank office. Conversations go much more smoothly in a place like this. If you decide to get revenge on me after all this is over, you should start looking for me here. I always do my work here. But it won’t be easy. Seoul’s a big city with lots of skyscrapers and lots of offices.”
“I guess it’s the syndicate who’s ordered you to do this, but you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t know anything about the chimera files.”
“I see you’re going to make me repeat myself. I have to do things in order. If I don’t, everything’s going to get out of whack. And if that happens, I’m going to get pissed. Besides, I have no idea who you are or why you’ve been brought here. How do you expect me to know about your situation? If this job required me know the reason for your being here, I’d know all about it, sure. But it doesn’t, so I don’t. I’m sure there’s someone who’s paid to know why it is you’ve been brought here. After all, there’s a job for everyone. If you want an answer to your question, you should talk to them. That’s all I’m going to say about that. It’s not my job to answer your questions, so don’t even ask. All I’ve been hired to do is interrogations. Receive instructions and debriefings, know what’s permissible and what’s not, and the occasional beating or use of torture – those are my duties. There’s no need for me to make any tough decisions. I’ll say it once more, I don’t know why you’re here.”
Beating or torture? Not being able to process the man’s words, my eyes glazed over for a moment.
“Coffee?” the man asked.
I didn’t an
swer. Having taken my blank expression as a yes, the man brewed two cups of coffee. He placed the two cups of coffee on the small tea table, as well as an ash tray and some cigarettes. To allow me to drink, the man uncuffed my hands from behind the chair, brought my hands to the front, then handcuffed them again. The whole time I let him do as he asked.
“Cream? Sugar?”
He sounded as if he was talking to a houseguest. I shook my head slightly to indicate that I wouldn’t have either. After all, was this really the time to have a friendly cup of coffee with sugar and cream?
“So, what is it you’re going to do now? Are you going to torture me, or something?” The moment I asked this, the fear suddenly became more palpable.
“I don’t particularly like hitting people or making them scream. I prefer having a nice, calm conversation. Besides, brute force isn’t that effective.”
“That’s a relief.”
“If I can believe what you tell me, they’ll be no need for all that cumbersome stuff. The most important thing is trust. But trusting another human isn’t easy. Don’t you agree?”
I nodded slightly to show that I partially agreed with him.
“Have you finished your coffee?” the man asked.
Actually, I hadn’t even touched my coffee. Regardless, after glancing at the clock, the man took the cup from my hands. He dumped the coffee into the sink, rinsed out the two cups with water, placed them on the rack, and dried his hands with a towel.
Tearing open a sealed envelope, the man read a piece of paper for a moment before jotting something down in a notebook. He then opened the closet and changed into a white gown. Going into the operating room next door, he picked up a few medical instruments and inspected them under the fluorescent lights. He brought over a medical cart and placed six medicine bottles and several different sized syringes on it. He also placed forceps, scissors, and a scalpel on the cart. After placing a few more things which I couldn’t identify on the cart, he positioned it next to the operating table. Seeing the mysterious medicine bottles and tools, I became even more frightened. What was he planning to do to me? Was he going to perform brain surgery on me? My heart began to pound violently. The man walked over to me, lifted me to my feet, then led me to the operating table. Now that I was closer to the cart, I could see a terrifyingly sharp scalpel and pair of shears, the kind used to cut branches. At that moment, indescribably surreal and horrific thoughts started to dance in my head. The man laid me down on the operating table. To restrain me to the rails on the operating table, the man uncuffed me. But as soon as he unlocked the cuffs with his keys, I lunged forward with my fists. I never thought I was capable of such a thing. Perhaps it was the man’s somewhat small frame that propelled me forward, or perhaps it was the unconscious desperation knowing that now was going to be my only chance. But the man easily avoided my first, which I had thrown at him with all my strength, and quickly countered by sticking out his thumb and jamming it deep into my larynx. His movements were nimble and practiced. I let out a heaving gasp as I fell to the ground. My head was spinning with vertigo and I couldn’t breathe.