Late June, 1994.
An extraordinary heat wave swept across Korea. The heat did not abate even at night. Even the elders who had chuckled that summer was supposed to be hot shook their heads in dismay.
Everyone sought refuge from the heat in their own way. Some left for the seaside, while others escaped to cafés.
At night, the neighborhood residents carried mats outside and tried to sleep in the open air. Fanning themselves did no good, and the occasional shower became a welcome relief.
Although his entire body ached so badly that he felt close to death, Hayeop returned home and crouched in the kitchen. He was carefully peeling the skins from tender boiled soybeans.
“Oh dear, this is really bad.”
His mother seemed to be suffering from the heat and had lost her appetite. She spent all her time dozing like a sick chicken. Whenever a sudden shower fell, she said her back throbbed so badly that she could not move at all.
Hayeop filled a basin with cold water, floated ice in it, and soaked her feet. He brought her barley tea again and again, but nothing cooled her down.
His mother looked like wilted spinach. No matter how many times he begged her to visit a hospital, she stubbornly refused, insisting that she knew her own body best. All Hayeop could do was worry himself sick.
There was no strength in her body, and red patches of heat rash had blossomed across her face. My mother used to be so beautiful. Now, hardship was etched into her features, and years of grueling work had left her hands deeply wrinkled.
Upset, Hayeop decided to make her some cold soybean noodles. They were a real delicacy with a little salt sprinkled over them. He popped one soybean into his mouth, then poured the rest into the blender.
“So rich and nutty….”
When he pressed the button, the blender whirred to life and began grinding the soybeans into a fine purée.
“Ha, what an ingenious little thing.”
Hayeop watched the blender in admiration. Who would have thought it could grind soybeans so well without him having to visit the mill?
“Mom.”
Hayeop carefully helped his mother sit up, supporting her small, bony shoulders with his slender arms.
“I made you cold soybean noodles.”
He urged her to try a little even if she had no appetite and settled her upright. Then he placed chopsticks in her limp hand.
“Please taste it.”
“How did you learn to make something like this?”
His mother smiled as though proud of him. It was a terribly weak smile.
“It’s delicious, Hayeop.”
She drew in a mouthful of noodles with a slurp and smiled softly. All her fingers were bent. She had worked in this house for nearly fifteen years, and her back and shoulders had become so stooped that they no longer seemed capable of straightening.
Hayeop had worried that she might not be able to digest it, but fortunately, she ate well.
“Is your job manageable?”
“Yes, it’s not bad. Everyone there is nice, and they’re understanding even though I’m still a little clumsy.”
When he told her that the generous owner even provided plenty of late-night food, his mother looked delighted.
“How lucky that you found work at such a restaurant.”
“…I know.”
Hayeop’s eyes shifted uneasily. Beneath the table, he dug a fingernail hard into his thigh.
He was afraid his mother would worry if he admitted that he worked at a nightclub, so he had told her he was employed at a twenty-four-hour bean sprout soup restaurant.
It was a white lie for his mother’s sake, but guilt pricked painfully at his heart.
At the nightclub, he coughed all day from the cigarette smoke, broke up fights between drunken customers, and even got punched when his luck was particularly bad. By the time he returned home, the soles of his feet burned.
But what else could he do? The daily pay was simply too good. Whenever he bought fried chicken on his way home, all his worries seemed to disappear. He and his mother tore the tender meat from the bones, getting grease all over their fingers. They laughed together as they watched television, and his exhaustion truly seemed to melt away.
Just endure it a little longer. At least until I can find a proper home where Mom and I can live well, instead of a single cramped room like this.
“This is really delicious.”
Dinner was also under way in the living room. The table there had been laden with enough food to make its legs buckle. Madam and Young Master were probably eating together. In this shabby but cozy little room, meanwhile, the only sounds were the repeated slurps of noodles.
“It tastes even better because we haven’t had it in so long.”
Hayeop smiled, his cheeks puffed out. Their circumstances were humble, but the cold soybean noodles he shared with his mother across the little low table tasted wonderful.
“That’s true. The soybean harvest must have been good last year.”
Hayeop had been worried because his mother had eaten so poorly lately, but seeing her slurp down the noodles put his mind somewhat at ease. He placed a piece of young radish kimchi atop his noodles and drew in a large mouthful.
“Young Master…”
“Cough!”
The single unexpected phrase nearly made Hayeop spit out his food. His mother patted his thin back and told him to eat slowly before he gave himself indigestion.
“It seems his vacation is about to begin.”
“R-really?”
Hayeop thumped his chest with his fist. His mother poured him some barley tea and told him to drink it.
“Yes. I expect he’ll be spending much more time at home now.”
“…I see.”
“Before you come inside, make sure you check whether the white blanket is on the rooftop.”
The white blanket was a signal between Hayeop and his mother. If it was hanging on the rooftop, no one else was home and it was safe for him to enter. If it was absent, he had to stay away.
“……”
Hayeop stared down into his noodles, even the tips of his perked ears turning scarlet. He had scarcely encountered Young Master since that day. Unless Yoonwon recklessly came searching for him, they were two people who had no opportunity to meet.
“Be very careful not to run into him.”
“Yes….”
Hayeop added silently, Don’t worry, Mom. We won’t run into each other again.
The class system might have disappeared long ago, but an invisible difference in rank still stood between Yoonwon and him. Hayeop had resolved never to see him again and to avoid him at all costs.
He had no idea that very night would overturn his resolve.
“Ugh, it itches.”
With his stomach full and his body warm, Hayeop had fallen into a deep sleep beside his mother. He kicked off the blanket and scratched vigorously at his pale leg. Had that damned mosquito found its way through the mosquito net again? He lit a mosquito coil with his lighter.
Scratch, scratch. Hayeop scraped at his leg once more. Looking closer, he noticed something like a small black speck clinging to his mother’s pale leg as well.
Get away from her, you rotten bastard.
He waved it off with his palm, and the mosquito fled with an angry whine. Although her skin had turned bright red, his mother remained sound asleep.
The next moment, a rank, fishy smell reached his nose.
“Mom?”
Sensing something was wrong, Hayeop hurriedly switched on the light and crawled over to her. His mother’s eyes were half-open, showing their whites. Her hazy gaze was unfocused, and yellowish vomit clung around her mouth.
“Mom…!”
His heart nearly stopped. Terrified, Hayeop quickly took hold of his unconscious mother’s head. He called for her again and again, but she gave no response. Her rough hand fell limply to the floor.
“What do I do?”
He had heard that a person could suffocate if vomit entered their throat. When Hayeop turned his mother’s head to one side, she released a faint breath and coughed weakly. Tears flooded his eyes.
Thank goodness. Thank goodness, she’s breathing.
“Mom, we need to go to the hospital. We have to.”
He tried to lift her, but her arms, as thin as bare branches, merely dangled. They swayed like lifeless fallen leaves.
What am I supposed to do?
His mind had frozen completely. He could not think of anything.
Thump, thump. Only his heart continued beating painfully, as though his insides might burst from his stomach. He seemed to have forgotten how to blink, how to breathe, and even how to move his hands and feet.
“Young Master.”
Hayeop flew from the room. He raced straight upstairs and knocked rapidly on the door with his fist.
“Y-Young Master! Young Master…!”
Tears were already streaming down his face. He kept his voice as low as he could, but Madam might still wake. In the middle of the night, even the quietest sound could carry. But his mother mattered more than anything else now. He could think of nothing but her.
“Young Master….”
Before long, the bedroom door opened. Yoonwon emerged, still half asleep. His sharp eyes were narrowed into a deep scowl, but the instant he saw Hayeop, his face went cold and rigid.
“What happened to you?”
All traces of sleep seemed to leave him at once. His large hand closed around Hayeop’s shoulder, gripping the trembling flesh firmly as if to steady him.
“Please help me, Young Master.”
Hayeop could barely see Yoonwon through his tears. He needed to explain what had happened, but his thoughts were so tangled that his tongue kept failing him.
“M-my mother…”
The instant he heard those words, Yoonwon sprang into motion. Hayeop hurried after him.