TFEB 03

Chapter 03…

 The Person Who Butted In

The weather app always showed cloudy skies, but it was safe to say that the weather on Dalos Island rarely followed the forecast.

Even during the rainy season, when eight out of ten days were cloudy, there was no need to worry. The fickle rain would pour down relentlessly for about four hours, as if it had made up its mind to do so, then clear up around the afternoon. Things were a little different toward the end of December, when the monsoon rains became particularly heavy, but muddy puddles and rainwater flooding the roads were nothing new to me.

Looking at it that way, the adults had actually timed their trip quite well. I’d heard that when the rain was particularly heavy, the waves became too rough for boats to sail.

My mother, who had always been lucky with the weather wherever she went, probably couldn’t even imagine that people sometimes died when boats capsized. Sometimes, I couldn’t sleep because I felt that I was the only blemish on my mother’s otherwise perfect record of everything going her way. Even the weather, something capable of taking human lives, seemed to work in her favor, yet she couldn’t do anything about her own child. It was a little frightening, actually.

There was a reason people said that having no children was the greatest blessing in life.

“Eundam. Where are you going all dressed up?”

Nomnom, the front desk employee, had been chatting with his friends when he noticed me. I climbed onto my bicycle, placed my feet on the pedals, and shouted loudly enough for the entire alley to hear.

“Going out for dinner!”

Ever since a lizard as big as a baby crocodile had appeared in the swimming pool connected to the restaurant, I’d been eating my meals in my room. Throughout my stay on Dalos Island, I’d stubbornly stuck to one accommodation. If I wanted to swim, I could always go to the sea, and the breakfast menu was more varied than those of other well-known resorts.

But most importantly, I enjoyed the casual everyday conversations I shared with Nomnom, the front desk employee.

When you spend a long time abroad without a single acquaintance you can call a friend, there inevitably comes a moment when you start longing for a conversation with someone who knows you. The meaningless small talk I shared with Nomnom helped ease some of the loneliness that came with being a long-term traveler.

It wasn’t easy to meet someone abroad who was kind to me but didn’t pry into my personal life.

“My parents arrived from Korea today. I’m going to show them a nearby restaurant.”

“Oh, right! You told me about that. That’s nice, Eundam. Where are your parents staying?”

“At Koran.”

“They’re staying somewhere nice.”

Accommodations on Dalos Island usually kept several bicycles available for guests as a complimentary service. I pedaled along the narrow alley on a blue bicycle with its room number printed on it.

The family reunion about to take place would probably be the complete opposite of what Nomnom imagined as he waved goodbye with a smile. Still, from my perspective, this was a level of family interaction I could tolerate.

The road leading to Koran Villa was a mixture of dusty dirt paths and muddy roads soaked with rainwater. In other words, it wasn’t exactly suitable for cycling.

I also had to be careful of the enormous chickens that occasionally appeared, their bodies reaching up to my knees. Once, a group of children who couldn’t understand my language had been kicking around a pink rubber ball when it hit me right in the head.

But I couldn’t give up cycling just because of those inconveniences. Bicycles were essential to life here, and in the eyes of the locals, I was nothing more than a migratory tourist passing through. I was the outsider who had rolled into their lives like a foreign object, so I had no choice but to adapt.

“Hello.”

Although we were all grouped together as Asians, it seemed that Korean faces were still quite unfamiliar to babies. A little child sitting in front of a tiny convenience store barely big enough to hold two pyeong stopped sucking on his finger and stared at me.

I smiled at him as I passed by, but he only scrunched up the corners of his eyes.

Every now and then, I came across children who were that honest about their feelings.

The island’s main road ran alongside the coastline, but traveling along it took more than thirty minutes. Besides, whenever you encountered a horse-drawn carriage, the smaller party had to give way.

I personally thought it was better to leave the main road to the horse-drawn carriages.

Back when I first arrived, I’d enthusiastically ridden my bicycle all over the place, only to get splashed head to toe with muddy water by a horse-drawn carriage coming straight toward me.

Before entering a narrow road, horse-drawn carriages would ring their warning bells out of consideration for others. But if you were on a dead-end street, there wasn’t exactly anywhere to go.

That’s why travelers familiar with the island’s geography preferred taking the inner roads where the locals lived, choosing routes where they were less likely to encounter horse-drawn carriages.

As a fairly experienced traveler myself, I could reach almost any destination within twenty minutes or so by bicycle.

The fact that the island was ridiculously tiny also made it easy to learn the layout.

“Eundam!”

As dusk settled over the island, yellow light bulbs began to glow.

There were six outdoor tables on the sandy beach in front of Koran Villa. Among the dishes sold at the restaurant, the most popular were seafood platters grilled and sprinkled with spicy chili powder.

The vast nighttime sea, the sound of crashing waves, and the sparkling grains of sand all added to the restaurant’s atmosphere.

I’d planned to bring the adults here for dinner tonight, but my impatient mother and her group had already found a table and settled down.

“Come over here!”

Perhaps worried that I hadn’t heard him, Dad stood up from his chair and waved.

As I turned my back to lock my bicycle, Dad hurried down toward me.

“I was just about to call you. How did you arrive at exactly the right moment?”

“This place is delicious.”

“This place? We just sat down because it looked like the closest one.”

“This restaurant is run by the accommodation where you and Mom are staying.”

“Oh, my! You’ve lived here for a few months, and now you’re practically an expert.”

I wanted to check the lock two or three more times because bicycle theft was common here, but Dad seemed to be getting impatient.

He grabbed my wrist while I was turning the number dial on the combination lock and pulled me toward the stairs.

My parents really were two of a kind when it came to impatience.

If I told him at that moment that I was worried about losing my bicycle, Dad would probably say something like this.

‘What’s the big deal? Just compensate whoever owns it! Do you think anyone here would give you a hard time over something like that?’

Dad had gone through so many hardships when he was young that he’d developed a deep distrust of the world.

The problem was that his distrust wasn’t limited to himself.

If his daughter so much as showed the slightest sign of struggling or being inconvenienced, his anger would turn toward the entire world.

I’d gotten into the habit of keeping my mouth shut before the innocent world could become the target of his wrath.

“Now, everyone! Our Eundam has arrived!”

“Yay!”

Accompanied by Mom’s applause and Dad’s proud smile, I made my entrance looking like a chicken that had lost half its feathers.

My hair had been completely messed up from riding my bicycle, and there was no fixing it at that point.

As if she understood how embarrassed I was, Aunt Suyoung discreetly looked away.

“Sit down, Eundam. We ordered something for you, too. That’s okay, right?”

The man who had taken off his glasses for the evening looked much younger and more energetic.

I gave an awkward smile, bowed my head politely, and sat down beside Mom.

There were two empty wine bottles on the table, where a seafood platter had already been laid out.

They’d already had a few drinks.

Even without any young people around to guide them, these couples were perfectly capable of enjoying themselves.

“I was going to make a reservation here for you. You’ve already started eating.”

I knew perfectly well that I hadn’t told them I would reserve a restaurant, but I decided to make a little playful complaint anyway.

Of course, there was no way it would work.

“Hey! The people here are getting old. Their hands start shaking as soon as it passes five o’clock. And how long do you think we’ve been starving because of that boat ride? Our daughter, who only showed up at six, is young, so she doesn’t understand.”

Well, they must have been hungry after spending so much time traveling by boat.

The man reached for the wine bottle to pour me a glass, but I politely shook my head.

Since I had to ride my bicycle back, I didn’t want to get drunk.

“The scenery was much better during the day. Now that it’s nighttime, it’s pitch-black, and all you can hear is the sound of the waves. Oh, right, Suyoung! You brought your swimsuit, didn’t you?”

“Oh, honestly… I told you I wasn’t going swimming.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve come all this way! I saw swimsuits being sold at a shop earlier. Just buy one.”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t like water.”

“My goodness! Your name is Suyoung, so why don’t you like swimming?”

Mom’s corny dad joke caught me so off guard that my jaw practically dropped.

Everyone sitting at the table except me burst into laughter.

Judging by their reactions, they must have been pretty tipsy.

Just when I began wondering whether there was any point in being the only sober person at the table, the man, who had been laughing heartily, turned to look at me.

“Eundam is always so pretty. She’s old enough to get married soon.”

“Right? I guess the water here really suits her. Even I was surprised when I saw her earlier, and she’s my own daughter!”

My expression stiffened instantly.

Mom’s excessive compliments, which came out of her mouth out of habit, were poison.

And it wasn’t just because they made me uncomfortable.

Her words had a habit of completely changing the direction of an otherwise peaceful conversation.

“Honestly, our Eundam is lovely, of course, but…”

Because this was usually the point where the conversation shifted into the familiar pattern of ‘I’ve praised my child, so now you should praise yours, too.’

“Every time I see Junjae, I’m amazed. I can’t believe he’s Professor Cha’s son, that model student.”

“That’s right! Remember when he stopped by our shop for a little while last time? After Junjae left, we talked about how lucky you were, Suyoung, to have such a wonderful son. You really hit the jackpot with him.”

I had no idea how things always managed to follow the exact same pattern without ever deviating.

Even my parents, who never missed an opportunity to boast about how their daughter was the best, were forced to take a step back whenever that name came up.

I felt uncomfortable under Aunt Suyoung’s gaze as she quickly searched for something to compliment me about in return.

I turned my head toward the waiter, hoping to interrupt the conversation before it could continue.

“Mom, Auntie. You don’t know this, do you?”

The waiter, who caught my eye, approached with a welcoming gesture.

Dad muttered something about what else I was planning to order and began flipping through the menu, but I wasn’t ordering food.

“The wine here isn’t good. Maybe it’s because this is an island, but it’s more expensive than it normally would be, too.”

I wrapped an arm around Mom’s shoulders, smiling sweetly as though I were her affectionate daughter.

When you pointed out the price and quality of something, adults would usually nod along without much argument.

I then turned to the waiter who had just approached and was standing beside us.

“Five Dalos beers, please.”

I’d tried all sorts of things, but the only thing powerful enough to silence the name Cha Junjae was strong alcohol.

Usually, the person who butted into a conversation was expected to adapt to the situation.

But Cha Junjae was an exception.

His name was as stubborn and potent as a particularly nasty strain of influenza. Once it entered a conversation, it filled every corner and refused to leave.

“Make sure they’re ice-cold.”

I take back what I said about not wanting to get drunk.

As long as alcohol could make me forget the conversation we’d been having just moments ago, it wasn’t so bad after all.

“Beer? I don’t like that. It makes me feel too full…”

“Mom, I guarantee you’ll order another bottle after drinking just one. We can even bet on it.”

This was how I dealt with Cha Junjae, the person who had rolled into my life like a stone.

I tried to treat him as though he were dead, even though he was still alive.

By completely ignoring him.

And sometimes, by forgetting he existed.

Because that was the only way I could survive.

That bastard went through life splashing more mud around than a horse-drawn carriage, constantly blocking my path without even bothering to ring a warning bell.

As I listened to the laughter of the adults, who were getting thoroughly drunk, my consciousness gradually began to drift away.

I thought about it every time, but it had all started there.

Elementary School, First Grade, Class 1.