You-jeong Jeong - The Good Son

I was a little annoyed. If I didn’t want to be seen as suspicious by this woman walking alone at night, I had to either run ahead past her or cross the street and take the path by the neighbourhood park.

‘Are you deaf? Why don’t you understand what I’m saying?’

Are you deaf … I remembered a woman I’d encountered on my way home from a morning run in May. Mother was okay with me running in the morning. I was crossing the street in front of Gundo Elementary School when I stopped short. I’d had a headache since the night before, but it flared up intensely right then and there as though I was about to have a seizure. I couldn’t see anything. It was as if I’d been hit in the eye socket with a hammer. I couldn’t move another step. I might have dropped to the ground with my head in my hands if a horn hadn’t sounded right next to me. A car whizzed by, and through a window, a woman’s voice called out, ‘Prick! Are you deaf?’

This was on a road in front of a school, designated as a pedestrian protection zone. Even if it hadn’t been, a driver should really wait if someone was staggering on the crossing, holding his head, not insult him by shouting ‘Prick!’ before zooming off. I wanted to write down the licence plate or at least the make of the car, but the early-morning fog was waist-deep, my headache was making everything bleary and the car was already turning left onto the road along the river. For a moment, I forgot about the headache; I was so incensed that I crossed the last few metres quickly. Once I was on the other side of the street, I looked around. I wasn’t sure what to do. The car was gone. There was no CCTV on that stretch of road yet. There was nothing I could do. I started to cool down a bit. My biggest flaw was that I stopped seeing clearly when I got angry; on the other hand, I gave up easily when there was no point in being angry. I gave up on getting revenge.

But that night in August when I first slipped out through the roof, I was certain that the woman I’d encountered in May was the same woman who was ahead of me now. Her voice sounded identical. I didn’t need to think about it any longer. I ducked behind the street lamps along the river and walked quickly to get closer. I finally detected a dark shadow moving slowly in the fog. I saw her long, wind-blown hair. I slowed down and followed, giving her some distance. I swear I had no other plan. I just wanted to know where she lived. She chattered on for another five minutes.

‘It just broke down in front of Kyobo Bookstore in Gwanghwamun… What do you mean, what did I do? I called the tow truck, of course, and took it to the garage!… No, I took the bus. I can’t take a taxi, it’s so far to get here… No, no, I’m not scared. It’s only midnight, it’s practically early evening! And the moon’s really bright tonight, too.’ She’d begun to walk past First Dongjin Bridge when she suddenly fell silent. It was as if she’d just realised that midnight in Seoul and midnight in Gundo were completely different. The streets here were dark and quiet. Nobody was around, not even cars. All you could hear was the seagulls crying behind the thick fog. She whipped around and looked towards where I was standing. She seemed most uneasy about what was behind her.

From behind the street lamp, I watched her standing under the yellow light. What caught my eye was one of the fingers gripping her phone. More specifically, it was a gold ring on her pinky. I don’t know if the moonlight bewitched me or if the lamplight gave it an aura. Even through the fog, the ring twinkled mysteriously in the dark, like a star crossing the galaxy. The voice in my head decided to quiz me. What’s the easiest way to take the ring off her hand? I knew the answer instantly. Cut off her finger, of course.

‘No, no, it’s nothing,’ she said into the phone. ‘I just thought I heard something behind me.’ She turned around and began to walk again.

I followed, matching her pace.

About ten metres later, she stopped and looked behind her again. ‘Look, let me call you when I get home.’

I stopped too, grinning. She should have done that at the very beginning.

She put her phone in her other hand, turned around once more, and then started to walk ahead quickly. I could sense her nervousness. Her sixth sense, drilled into her through the history of humanity, was probably whispering to her: Doesn’t that sound like someone’s behind you? Or maybe she heard the whispers in my mind: Can you feel me behind you?

I sped up too. My thighs tensed. My gums tingled, as though I was about to sprout new teeth. Small goose bumps dotted the skin below my ears. It wasn’t exactly excitement or tension; it was similar to what Hae-jin had told me about once.

It was four years ago, maybe in the late spring or early summer. Hae-jin had gone out to see a slightly older girl in his department he’d had a crush on for a long time, and hadn’t come home until the next morning. It was probably the only time in his life he stayed out all night without letting Mother know beforehand. It was one of the very few times Mother had scolded him. While she nagged him, I stood by the kitchen island, watching. Even though he kept saying, ‘I’m really sorry,’ he wasn’t paying much attention. Stars were twinkling in his brown eyes; he was probably floating somewhere far away in space. I became curious. Who was she, this girl who’d sent him into space?

As soon as Mother walked away, I asked, ‘Was it that good?’

Hae-jin’s neck reddened and he gave an evasive answer, as if I were Mother. ‘I don’t really remember. We were drunk.’ He wanted to keep it to himself.

I didn’t want to respect his privacy; he’d clearly experienced something important that was a complete mystery to me. ‘But how did you feel about it?’

‘Well…’ He hesitated for a long time before sharing his rambling literary thoughts. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but the gist was this: if God comes to take me on my deathbed when I’m ninety and asks, where in your life would you want to return to before you leave this world, I would answer that I want to go back to that moment last night when I felt the whole world slide away.

What was it like for the world to slide away? I hadn’t experienced intimacy or love but I had slept with two women. What I’d experienced both times was worlds apart from what he was talking about. The first woman had had small, perky breasts just the way I liked, but I couldn’t get into it. In fact, my pulse slowed. Even the moment of release wasn’t electrifying. It was the same the second time around. It was so boring to kiss her that I found myself tracing her teeth with the tip of my tongue. But I wasn’t attracted to guys, either. Hae-jin’s dreamy expression was incomprehensible to me. It seemed to signal feelings that I would never be able to understand.

That night, when I started to follow the woman with the sparkling ring, I finally found a clue to unravelling that mystery. I suddenly realised what I was attracted to. I was attracted to someone feeling afraid.

The moon slipped behind dark clouds. The fog spread out, growing thicker. I stopped when she turned around and followed when she went on so that she would sense someone behind her. The closer I got, the clearer I heard the sounds she was making; they fired up my senses. The clanking of coins or keys in her backpack. Her footsteps, falling faster and more unevenly. Her bare thighs rubbing together with each step. Her hair being whipped around by the rough wind. Her ragged, wet breathing. I thought I could even hear the flow of blood under her jaw.

I imagined all the things I would do to take off the gold ring. I would grab the hair that danced above her shoulders. I would cover her mouth with my other hand. I would drag her to the river. I would rip off the ring with my canines and shove her into the water.