Mina

by Kim Sagwa

  “No! That’s not it! You’re wrong! We were just playing around, grabbing each other, it was an accident that it died. And the truth is…no…I don’t know why I killed it. I’m trying not to think about it. I don’t think I’ll ever know the reason. Or if I do, it’ll scare me, you know? Scare me to death. Why would I kill a kitten? I’m afraid to know. I’m awful, I know that. And I regret it.”

  “That’s what you always say.”

  “No, I mean it. Mina, believe me. I even had a dream about it. So I…” Instead of finishing the sentence Crystal walks over to Mina and takes her by the hands.

  “Don’t do that, please. You scare me when you hold my hands and smile like that.”

  “Really?”

  “So what were you about to say?’

  “I ended up going into my closet.”

  “And?”

  “What do you mean, ‘And?’ You like to go into your closet. I thought you’d be happy to know I went into mine.”

  “You’re really losing it.”

  “What do you mean? You don’t go into your closet anymore?”

  “Sure I do.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “What does me going into my closet have to do with you? You went into your closet just because I go into mine? But why? Fine—your call. But why should I be happy knowing you went in your closet? That’s so crazy!”

  “Hey—”

  “Wait, Minho just texted.”

  “And?”

  “He’ll be back by four. But he says he’s tired.”

  “Who cares. What time is it?”

  “Two thirty.”

  “Fine. More time for us to bitch at each other. Where were we?”

  “Closets.”

  “Right, closets. So…” Crystal nods, then covers her smile with her hand like a little girl. “Know what? I figured out your secret! For real.”

  “What secret?”

  “What you do in your closet.”

  “And what do I do in my closet?”

  “Jell-O.”

  “Jell-O?”

  “You’ve been eating Jell-O in your closet. And you never wanted to come out, right? Fess up!”

  “Crystal?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Did it ever occur to you that you drain all the energy out of me?”

  Mouth shut and pride wounded, Crystal looks at Mina.

  “I mean—”

  “Okay…. Right. Got it. Let’s take a break. I’m tired too. So what do we do now? Clean?”

  “Our place is always clean anyway.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Then let’s make a cake with those strawberries.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Shoulders drooping, they go into the kitchen, dump the bag of strawberries in the sink, and stand side by side rinsing the berries. An awkward silence lingers.

  “You know how to make a strawberry cake?” Mina asks.

  “Nope. What about you?”

  “Me neither. Hey, did you bring any smokes?”

  “Can we? Is it okay?”

  “Just for today. But only on the balcony. Come on.” They leave the kitchen together, pass through the dining room, and from the living room go out onto the balcony.

  Crystal takes a pack of cigarettes from her pants pocket. “Here you go.”

  “I have some too.”

  “Cool.”

  “Can I use your lighter?” Mina lights her own cigarette and then Crystal’s, saying, “Wow, this is to die for, especially today.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure. And thanks to Mr. Philip Morris for giving us the opportunity to get hooked on cigarettes.”

  “You got such a great view!”

  “Of what?”

  “Look, right there in front of you. From up here, don’t you feel like you’re the master of everything you see? Like it’s all yours. Though I guess there are lots people who can look out on the city from this angle. And they probably think the same thing.”

  “You’re the only one.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh, by the way…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Oh, never mind.”

  “No, tell me, Mina.”

  “No, it’s nothing. So, are we done talking? We’re done. We’re done now, right?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Crystal nods. “What did we talk about anyway?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it anymore. It’s annoying.”

  “Me neither.”

  “And that’s why you and I just don’t click. We get on each other’s nerves. I’m going in.”

  “No. Stay.”

  “Fuck this! What are we doing anyway? All this really pisses me off. And I was already really pissed off before. As we fought about who’s smarter, deep down I was thinking: what the fuck are we doing, this is really, totally stupid.”

  “So why didn’t you laugh?”

  “How could I? We were both so dead serious.”

  “I don’t know about that. What can we do now to make ourselves laugh?”

  Crystal and Mina get Minho’s laptop and go on Naver.com to find the easiest cake recipe. The berries have bumps but are fresh and the whipped cream is lumpy but tasty. They nibble at their cake with teaspoons while chain-smoking, drinking vodka with cranberry juice, and listening to music. They turn up the volume and lie on the floor, feeling the beat massage their bodies. For the soft, calming songs they lie on the floor, arms swaying, and for the upbeat songs they jump on the sofa, shimmying. They step lightly from one end of the hall to the other, turn in circles, eyes closed, and back in the living room they feel like they’re walking on air. Bodies tuned in to the rhythm, they mumble the dirty lyrics but wail the clean ones. For a moment, they are happy and having fun. They’re all in. It’s a beautiful state of mind and they trust in the fever. The music gets their hearts beating, makes their cheeks rosy, sets their heads bobbing—all of it generating sweet hormones. And this is how Crystal and Mina make up—everything’s peachy and they’re friends again, as close as ever. But then it’s after seven and Minho isn’t back yet. Mina’s already asleep on the floor. Crystal feels tired—dizzy and languid. She tries to stay awake but sleep is washing over her. She prods Mina. Mina’s talking in her sleep. Crystal crushes out her cigarette, finishes her drink, lies down next to Mina, and closes her eyes.

  When Minho finally returns, the apartment is thick with stale air and the two girls are sprawled on the floor. On the dining room table is a misshapen slice of strawberry cream cake and a shiny blue bottle. Minho finds a large blanket and covers the girls from head to toe. He takes a strawberry from the leftover pile and pops it into his mouth, then sticks out his tongue and makes a face.

  “What’s going on?” Minho eases close to Mina and prods her in the side with his foot. Mina squirms once and turns over. Minho smiles, satisfied.

  Crystal wakes up and goes to find Minho playing a video game in his room.

  She looks over his shoulder at the monitor. “What’re you doing?”

  He shrugs, and drinks from the carton of milk on his desk.

  “I saw you in my dream, Oppa.”

  “What was the dream about?”

  “I was leaving for some country or other and you were sending me off. To make my parents happy we went to a Korean restaurant, but you didn’t touch a thing. So later we left the airport to find a stir-fried rice cake place. They were everywhere. But the one we found also had king-size squid hung on a line and if you got the squid you got served first.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But you didn’t want squid either, Oppa. You didn’t want anything. I thought I was going to starve to death.”

  “What’s with the oppa all of a sudden?”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “No.”

  “Well you should.”

  “No.”

  “Hey!” Suddenly Mina stomps up behind them. “Why’re you hitting on my brother? That’s gross.”
<
br />   “You said he broke up with his girlfriend.”

  “But you didn’t break up with your boyfriend…”

  “What? Mina,” Crystal says, “don’t you have anything better to do?”

  “You retard, can’t you see she’s hitting on you? She’s already got a guy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And don’t come crying to me later.”

  “Shut up,” Minho says. “I’ve had enough, Mina. Get lost.”

  “Oh yeah, I’m the one who has to get lost, not Crystal. Okay, have fun, you two. Fuck yourselves to death for all I care.”

  Mina starts to close the door on them, and, almost by reflex, Crystal tries to keep it open.

  “Fuck! Get lost, both of you.”

  “What’s wrong?” Crystal says to Minho.

  “I’ll leave you two to yourselves,” says Mina.

  “Hey, Mina, can we please stop?”

  “Just let me shut the fucking door, will you?”

  “Mina,” says Minho, “will you please back off?”

  “Shut up,” Mina replies. “Don’t I get to have some fun?”

  “You call this fun?!” Crystal screams. “What a pain in the ass!”

  “You’re going to break the door!” shouts Minho.

  “No way!” shouts Crystal. “You’re not closing this fucking door!”

  “Fuck, that’s it.” Minho gets up and yanks the door open, sending Mina sprawling onto the floor.

  Mina shrieks and the next moment bursts out crying, “Asshole—why did you do that to me? You fucking idiot.”

  Crystal carefully approaches. “You okay?”

  Milk carton in hand, Minho slowly comes over as well. “You okay?”

  “Fucking idiots, how can I be okay?” Mina glowers at them with teary eyes, her face flushed. “My butt! My butt hurts.”

  “I didn’t pull that hard.”

  “Sure you didn’t, you fucking asshole.”

  “Mina,” says Crystal, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Mina, calm down.”

  Mina glares at her. “Get your hands off me.”

  Crystal stares back at Mina. “I’m not the one who did it.”

  “So?”

  “I’m not.”

  “So what?”

  “I didn’t do it, I didn’t!”

  “Will you two please stop bitching? That’s enough, Mina. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

  “Get lost, Minho. You too, Crystal. This is so fucking irritating. Get lost, both of you.”

  Crystal gives Mina a blank look, then nods abruptly. “All right.” She gets her backpack from the dining room and puts it on. “Bye. Take care.” Then she snatches the milk carton from Minho and pours milk in a circle around Mina. Lukewarm milk splashes Mina’s thigh. “Okay, round and round—that better? Once more, round and round—is that better now? You’re all cured. Get up and walk. Get up. Come on…rise. No? Okay, fine. No problem.”

  In her black tracksuit and black backpack she looks like a farmer spraying herbicide as she continues sprinkling milk on the rose-colored marble floor. After the carton’s empty she begins chanting, circling a few more times around Mina. There’s milk on Mina’s magenta socks and the rose floor. Crystal’s chanting reaches the chandelier and the windows, filling the living room, as Minho and Mina follow her movements with rapt gazes. Crystal ends with a huge half circle around Mina, then heads for the door. “Bye—this time for real!”

  The door closes, the soothing warble sounds as it locks, and its colorful display briefly lights up.

  Minho and Mina look at each other.

  “What the hell?” Mina looks at the small puddles of milk. “That fucking bitch! Made a mess and just took off.”

  “Why don’t you go after her?” asks Minho.

  “What for?”

  “You’re going to just let her go?”

  “What else can we do?”

  “Well for one thing you can go find her. She’s acting really weird.”

  “So, what’s new? She’s always like that. Totally weird. And look, I’m all wet. How can I go out with my ass soaked?”

  Minho scowls at her.

  “Then you go!”

  “I’ve already decided to.” Minho puts on his shoes. “Clean up.” The door shuts behind him.

  “No way!” Lying on the floor all by herself, Mina calls out Crystal’s name, once, twice, and then a third time. The milk, cold, is in her hair, which sticks to the cool marble floor.

  Minho bypasses the elevator, opens the emergency exit door, and runs down the stairs. Reaching the ground level, he opens the door and sees the milk carton in Crystal’s hand in the last of the sunlight. She’s walking, absolutely leisurely, out of the complex. Minho calls her name twice, loudly, then sprints after her. Crystal continues her casual stroll. Minho catches up and falls in beside her, panting. Gathering his breath, he taps her on the shoulder, disposes of the milk carton for her, and returns to her side. Surprised and wary, she looks at him with tearful eyes. Watching her blink, Minho goes blank. He says nothing.

  Crystal removes her headphones. “Why are you following me?” she says, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Because of Mina?”

  “No. Are you heading home?”

  Crystal nods, face drooping. She looks like a little birdie that’s lost its mother. Seeing her in this state, Minho tries to hold on to his aloofness by recalling how she sprinkled milk around Mina. He’s not sure what to say to her, so he simply offers to walk her home. “Let’s go.”

  Crystal hesitates then says okay.

  As they walk they keep just enough distance between them to avoid touching. Now and then she looks at him and sees the play of the afterglow on his fair cheeks and lips. Minho senses her gaze but keeps his eyes focused ahead of him. Occasionally he looks off to the side opposite Crystal and scans what’s over there, but doesn’t register anything, and then he looks straight ahead again. Crystal looks at him. This time she holds the stare, intensifies it. Just as she’s about to bump into a telephone pole Minho grabs her by the shoulder.

  “Hey, what are you doing? What’s the matter?”

  “You were about to walk into that pole.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  They resume walking, this time with twice the distance between them, a distance that sometimes contracts by half, sometimes expands by half.

  “Um, tell me—do I smell like booze?”

  “Nope. Just cigarettes.”

  “Oh fuck…. What am I going to do?…”

  “Wash your hair when you get home.”

  “You know,” she says, looking down at the ground, “you know…I was going to sleep over at your place. So I packed my PJs—and my toothbrush and lotion.”

  Minho looks at her. With her face down she rubs her nose with the back of her hand—another of her nervous tics—then looks up at Minho. Again he thinks of how she circled Mina, sprinkling the milk.

  “There’s always next time.”

  “When? She doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore. Right? What am I going to do?”

  “No, she’ll still hang out with you. She’s not really mad.”

  “I’m pretty sure she won’t.”

  “Yes, she will.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You’re her only friend. You know that.”

  “Yeah, right! She’d rather be by herself than hang out with me. And Mina’s the only one who ever hung out with me.”

  The image of Crystal pouring milk is fixed in Minho’s mind—the image has captured him. But he doesn’t mention it. And so their conversation stops. They walk in silence. What they see as they follow the streets is mundane, perhaps mirroring their state of mind. Crystal’s apartment complex comes into view in the distance. There’s something about it that’s incomparably barren, something impossible even to symbolize, perhaps mirroring their feelings. At the door to her building Crystal punches the entry code into the number pad and she and Minho enter side by side. Waiting for the elevator, Crystal looks
Minho up and down. Seeing his spotless sneakers, she thinks about her own outfit and decides she looks like a member of a third-rate handball club from a rural public school on their way to a training camp at Kyeryong Mountain.

  The elevator arrives and they get on together.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Your place—isn’t that where you’re going?”

  “Yes. But what about you? You want to go to my place too?”

  “Is that all right?”

  Her heart starts pounding. She looks at him again. “What for?”

  Minho doesn’t respond. There’s only the hum of the elevator. It comes to a stop and side by side they exit, then enter her apartment.

  “Come in, but my room’s off-limits.” She crosses her arms. “Too messy…” She heads for her room and Minho follows her.

  “What do you mean, messy? It’s cleaner than Mina’s room.”

  Crystal dramatically squawks in displeasure.

  She unzips her black hooded top and peels it off to reveal a pink T-shirt with Dumbo the Flying Elephant. Seeing it, Minho looks surprised. Crystal returns to the living room, perches on the edge of the sofa, and with one hand picks up the phone while with the other she turns on the TV with the remote.

  “Mom? Mm-hmm. Just got home. At Mina’s. What about you? Busy? Got it. No. All right. When’re you coming home? What? And Dad? I ate already. Mm-hmm, at Mina’s. I know. Yeah, I’ve got school tomorrow. Mm-hmm. Right, tomorrow there’s school. Yeah, everything’s fine. What was that? No. That’s ridiculous. Oh, next week I’ve got to pay the cram school fee. Right. I know. Okay… yeah… yeah. Bye.” Hanging up, she says, “Want something to drink?”

  “Water?”

  “Hey, what’re you doing in there?” She jumps up and runs to her room. Minho is stretched out on her bed with a smile on his face.