The owl cries, p.11
The Owl Cries, page 11
He became one with the darkness and slowly searched the house. There was no one else there. And yet he heard footsteps in the dark, a head turning slowly, someone carefully swallowing their spit and clearing their throat, a small exhale. The sounds were all coming from him. He gave up on his search and sat down on the living room sofa.
Before long he heard the front door open. Had it only been the sound, he would have thought his spiteful ears were still lying to him. A draft of cold air touched him. His body lied so easily, but his senses did not. He turned to look at the door. He wanted to ask who was there, who had opened his door and come inside, but he couldn’t. His throat was bone dry, his voice wasn’t working.
The light turned on. He squinted into the bright glow of the front door.
“Is that you?”
His wife’s voice. Se-oh stared blankly at In-su. In-su finally relaxed his face. It was only his wife and son. Before he knew it, he’d run over and was hugging his wife. Her body was cold and stiff. It wasn’t the outside air. She slipped out of his embrace without hugging him back.
“What’re you doing in here with all the lights out?”
“Resting my eyes. I was tired.”
“When did you get home?” Yu-jin asked as she headed into the kitchen. Se-oh tiptoed behind her.
“Maybe three or four hours ago.”
“Three or four hours?”
She stopped and looked at him. As his sweat dried, his chills returned. He curled up into a ball on the sofa.
“We’ve only been gone an hour,” she said.
“An hour?”
“Yes.”
In-su nestled deeper into the sofa cushions. How was it only a hour? He felt like an entire season had passed. He remembered everything, from the moment he’d come through the door to taking medicine to hearing things and then wandering around the darkened house. He pictured the pill he’d swallowed, with its deep stripe down the middle on one side and no marking of any kind on the other. He surprised himself with how clearly he remembered all of this, but then again, he had carried himself so carefully, like an actor in a scene, mindful of the pain he was in, that even the smallest of details seemed to have been impressed into his memory.
Yu-jin approached him with a worried look and felt his forehead.
“Are you okay? Is it another toothache? Is that why you’re home early?”
“I feel a cold coming on. Got too tired, I guess. I’m okay now.”
“Did you tell Professor Jin?”
“Yeah, over the phone. I’ll get better with a little rest.”
“Okay. Go to bed while I make dinner.”
“I can’t sleep. I’ll stay here.”
In-su looked up at her quietly, waiting to hear what she had to share with him today. She usually chattered at him about things she’d seen or heard in town. Listening to her talk reassured him that they’d made the right decision in coming here. Not because the gossip he heard from her was particularly interesting or because he liked the locals. He’d had no other choice. But even if he’d had multiple places to choose from, he might still have chosen this one. Because this was the place that had gotten Yu-jin to start talking his ear off again. Listening to her random stories filled him with relief that they were eating the same food, sharing the same space, having the same worries, and thinking the same thoughts. Those moments had been lost to him for a while, but of all things the town scuttlebutt had brought them back.
“Hey, so I heard the strangest thing at the grocery store,” Yu-jin said as she sat down next to him.
“What was it?” he asked, gazing at her warmly, filled with a familiar sense of anticipation.
“They say there was an accident a few days ago.”
“An accident?”
“Yes, a car accident. It seems like everyone in town knows about it already.”
“Did that woman at the store finally talk to you?” In-su asked eagerly. Yu-jin had been complaining about how the store owner was always ignoring her.
“She was telling another customer about it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think she was trying to keep it a secret from me.”
“That’s good. So who got hurt?”
“I think it was that person you told me about a few days ago.”
In-su didn’t have to hear any more to know who she was referring to. They often talked about the people they’d met in town. Usually, Yu-jin was the one with the stories, since In-su, who headed straight home after work every day, rarely met anyone new. In other words, there was only one person it could have been.
“The younger brother of the guy you replaced? That lawyer? They said he died.”
In-su’s shock was considerable. Even having guessed who she was talking about, he still felt stunned. He’d only met the guy once, and though he’d come looking for In-su’s help, In-su nevertheless felt like he’d sent away a benefactor without being able to repay any favors.
“What did they say happened?”
“They said he was drunk. He came out of the bar and got hit by a truck while trying to cross the road.”
“They said he was drunk?”
“Yes, very, very drunk. It always comes back to alcohol, no matter the time or place. Alcohol turns everything into a problem.”
In-su fell silent. Yu-jin studied him for a moment before continuing.
“They say he was really plastered. That he was so messed up, he was barely able to walk out of the bar on his own. They also said that even if he hadn’t been hit by the truck, he probably would’ve frozen to death on the street.”
“He didn’t seem the type,” In-su muttered.
“Honey, how well did you know him?”
“I would have pegged him for someone who wouldn’t be caught dead drinking.”
“Of course you would. That’s typical. Everyone claims they don’t drink. But once you reach for a drink after abstaining for a long time, you get so angry at yourself that you can’t help but keep on drinking. He probably had no idea why he was drinking or why he couldn’t control himself. It just happens. But we don’t have to rehash that, do we?”
“Who was driving?” In-su asked to change the subject.
“Who knows?” she said patiently. “This town is full of giant trucks after dark. They go right past here, too. It was probably one of those. They say the only evidence is skid marks. That’s only enough to hint at what type of vehicle it was. I found out today that, unlike everywhere else, none of the roads around here have any cameras.”
In-su had also thought about the many trucks on the road after dark. Though there’d been fewer lately, he had lost a lot of sleep when they first moved in because of all the trucks speeding back and forth along the forest road in the middle of the night. When he’d asked Yu-jin about it back then, she’d made some absentminded response to the effect that the trucks had to get somewhere.
“We better be more careful, too,” Yu-jin said to In-su.
In-su looked at her and nodded sheepishly. He felt grateful to her for saying we instead of you.
“By the way, honey, you said that man gave you a photo of his older brother? Where did you put it?”
“In a drawer at work.”
“Throw it away. Tear it up or burn it if you have to. It’s a photo of a missing person given to you by a dead man. It was weighing on me the whole way back.”
“Okay, I will.”
“Honey.” Her voice faltered. “Thank you.”
With that, she picked her grocery bags up from where she’d set them on the floor and went into the kitchen. Se-oh followed his mother like a shadow.
In-su wasn’t sure why his wife had thanked him, or what she had thanked him for. For all he knew, she was thanking him for not drinking. Or because he’d said yes to her, like an obedient child, yes, he would do whatever she told him to.
Alone in the living room once again, In-su felt the pain in his teeth reignite. Maybe it was because of that phrase, thank you. Because of those words, he realized unexpectedly that he would have to work unceasingly to not get under Yu-jin’s skin, and that, by expressing her encouragement and gratitude, she was goading him not to piss her off.
Nevertheless, In-su hoped he would be able to follow through. Wouldn’t his wife be happy as long as he was making an effort? With that thought, he got up from the sofa when he heard the doorbell ring. Even before asking himself who it was, he checked the time. It was a little past six o’clock. The time he would normally be heading home from work. But six o’clock in the forest was as dark as midnight in the city. This was no time for paying anyone a social visit. In-su headed slowly to the front door, toward his rude late visitor.
12
In-su’s days of being drunk all the time were behind him. That’s what Yu-jin had thought until recently. Up until the past poked its knife out from where it had been hiding in the present and began waving it around. In-su’s thirst for alcohol was like an infection with an incubation period—they’d forgotten that you could suppress it for only so long and, once it revealed its true self, it was all over for you.
Yu-jin wasn’t the type to fixate on regrets and try very hard to right wrongs; instead, she simply acknowledged the wrongs and moved on. Of course, it was possible she’d become resigned. Things that happened in the present were nearly always produced in collaboration with the past, no matter how trivial. So, short of being born again, short of starting your whole life over from scratch, there wasn’t a thing you could change.
She thought the same thing when In-su fell off the wagon again. She was disappointed in him. No question. Because she’d been here before. Watching on pins and needles as he went back to the bottle. It wouldn’t be long before the past caught up with them. Yes, all would be calm for a moment, and then the exact same things would start happening over again. This was the biorhythm of booze, with which she was all too familiar. When In-su reached hesitantly for a drink, hands shaking, unable to hide the look of excitement on his face, Yu-jin felt as though a cherished water glass had been dropped on the floor. The imagined glass shattered. She stepped on the shards, as if to spite her husband for not knowing it was broken. The shards pierced her foot and tore her flesh. Her blood gushed out. She told herself she wouldn’t stitch the wound shut. She would leave it to fester and rot until she stank of it, until the wound was so putrefied that if the foot wasn’t chopped off, the poison would spread to the entire limb.
It was Professor Jin who had brought the alcohol. When she looked over at the door to see who was calling, the long, rectangular wooden box he was carrying caught her eye even before she saw it was him. Professor Jin gave In-su a slow wink and held the box high and shook it at the both of them.
Though she didn’t get a close look, the familiar size and shape of the box told her what it held. What the hell else would it be but alcohol? Professor Jin lifted the box high again. It was probably just awkwardness that made him do it, as In-su hadn’t even budged in response, but to Yu-jin, it looked like he was there to crow about winning a trophy.
Yu-jin pictured the look on In-su’s face. He had his back to her. She imagined he was probably trying to hide his own awkwardness. In situations like this, In-su had a special talent for getting tongue-tied and staring so hard at the other person that he ended up making them uncomfortable and himself look like a fool. Yu-jin knew these staring contests were his shy way of creating rapport with the unfamiliar, but she also knew how often they led to misunderstandings.
Fortunately or unfortunately, Professor Jin seemed not to notice anything. Or maybe he didn’t have the patience to tolerate being stared at. Professor Jin swung the box like a pendulum in In-su’s face. As if to say, don’t you know what this is? As if telling him that booze was to be swirled and swallowed, not stared at. As if to ask how much longer he’d have to stand there in the entryway like that. In-su was so hypnotized he forgot all about his plan to ask Professor Jin about his predecessor. And anyway, that was someone else’s business, whereas this bottle was about to become his business.
It was impossible to tell whether In-su stepped out of the way first, or whether Professor Jin wrapped his arm around In-su’s shoulder and casually led him into the living room. As In-su turned, Yu-jin finally saw the look on his face: it held a mixture of confusion and joy at being so close to alcohol, excitement at the possibility of drinking, determination not to break his vow of sobriety, and anxiety over accidentally revealing all of these feelings to her. Yu-jin greeted Professor Jin with a silent nod.
“Apologies for the intrusion. It’s not too late, is it?” Professor Jin asked.
“I was about to start cooking dinner.”
“Well, look at that. It’s not too late at all! Seeing as you haven’t eaten yet.”
Yu-jin didn’t move from her spot. No matter what she said in response, Professor Jin would interpret it as he pleased, and there was no chance he would leave, having already brought the bottle inside.
“I couldn’t not check on you, knowing you’re under the weather. I think we’re past having to call before dropping by, aren’t we?”
“Of course, we are,” In-su said quietly, while stealing a glance at Yu-jin to gauge her reaction.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better now that I’ve slept a bit.”
“That’s good.”
“I’m sorry for leaving work early over nothing.”
“It’s important to rest before it gets serious. We still have a lot of work before us, after all.”
“Thank you. I’m much better already. I’ll be fine.”
“As a matter of fact, the air here is so good that you can never stay sick for long. People tend to get better much faster here than in the city.”
“That does seem to be the case.”
“It is, indeed. But I’m not just here to check in on you, I also have a special delivery. I couldn’t bear to wait any longer to give it to you.”
Professor Jin held up the box.
“Do you know what this is?”
The gesture seemed aimed more at Yu-jin.
“It’s alcohol.”
“When you put it so bluntly, I can’t help but feel a little hurt. This is what we call a ‘gift.’ And a very special gift at that. Now, who do you suppose sent this gift?”
He looked back and forth at In-su and Yu-jin. As if to give them a fair chance to respond.
“Someone gave that to you?” In-su asked stupidly.
Yu-jin had seen In-su do this a number of times before—concealing his true thoughts by playing the buffoon. It was obvious to her that he wanted to hide his disappointment at not being able to drink that booze.
“If someone gave this to me, why would I be waving it around at you? I’d just drink it myself. This is yours.”
“Mine? Who sent it?”
As In-su continued with his clown act, Professor Jin turned to Yu-jin with a sparkle in his eye that said, Shall I? Yu-jin looked away, not bothering to hide her complete lack of interest. Professor Jin gave in, his voice flat, his disappointment at not getting to drag out the guessing game any further written all over his face.
“Who else but Colonel Kim, of course? I saw him right before coming here.”
Yu-jin remembered Professor Jin had told them last time that Colonel Kim didn’t like drinking. It made no sense for him to choose alcohol as a gift. And for someone sick enough to have left work early. Had he suddenly opened his arms to the idea of booze? Though only for her husband to drink, of course.
“It’s unprecedented,” Professor Jin said slowly, as if reading Yu-jin’s mind. “He never gives alcohol as a gift. It seems Colonel Kim has been worried about how well you’ve adapted to this place. You were his own special hire, after all. Being stuck in the forest all day can be terribly boring when you’re not used to it. He said it must have been a hard month and a difficult adjustment for you. He’s worried that your illness might have been brought on by all of that. This gift is to celebrate your first month here.”
Professor Jin offered In-su the bottle as ceremoniously as handing someone a plaque. In-su purposely kept his face blank so as to hide the joy he was feeling.
“Colonel Kim says this brand is hard to come by. Not that I would know.”
In-su nodded wordlessly, while inwardly lamenting the fact that Yu-jin’s presence meant he couldn’t wholeheartedly enjoy this surprise gift.
“Feel free to tuck it away for later. I realize it’s not exactly appropriate as a get-well present.”
In-su’s face brimmed with disappointment. The alcohol would remain off-limits unless Professor Jin himself offered him some. At least, it would as long as Yu-jin was there. And once that bottle was in her hands, it would be even harder to get a sip. She would squirrel it away like some sort of treasure to be buried. Or simply pour it down the sink.
“On the other hand,” Professor Jin said as In-su tucked the bottle underneath the table, “perhaps a single glass would be a fitting show of appreciation to Colonel Kim. As long as you’re feeling up to it, of course. That way, I could convey to Colonel Kim just how much you enjoyed his gift. But it’s also okay with me if you’d prefer to keep a bottle as precious as this to yourself. I’m just as happy getting drunk on the cheap stuff.”
In-su waved his hand to show that would never happen. He had already admitted to feeling much better, and besides, he was worried that refusing to share the bottle with their guest would make him look greedy and inhospitable. Yu-jin knew this, too. That was why she couldn’t stop In-su from sitting down on the sofa and removing the bottle from its wooden box, his face beaming with anticipation.
Professor Jin and Yu-jin’s husband gushed in unison over the bottle. She didn’t know much about the brand, but it was obviously expensive and hard to find. In-su went from trying to stay on Yu-jin’s good side to simply not looking her way at all once Professor Jin had the bottle open. In-su’s hand shook nonstop while Professor Jin poured him a glass. Professor Jin pretended not to notice.
