You-jeong Jeong - The Good Son

‘Where were you?’

When was this memory from? Last night? When I came back from the sea wall? A faint light flickered at the bottom of my muddy consciousness, but when I blinked, my own ghostly form against the wall disappeared. Mother’s voice vanished, too.

I continued up the stairs and followed the dried footprints along the marble floor of the hallway. Even though I placed my heels purposefully, I felt as if I were slipping and sliding. I turned the bloody door handle of my own room, walked inside, and stood at the foot of my bed.

‘Stop right there.’ Mother’s voice came again.

I stood next to the footprints; they were the same size as my feet. I looked cautiously around the room, at the sliding door still open a crack, the blinds pushed to one side, the light on the pergola blinking in the fog, the neat desk, the chair draped with the comfortable clothes I wore at home, the cordless phone on my bedside table, the pillow and blankets drenched in blood. Mother’s mobile slid out of my hand and fell to the floor. All the clues were pointing to one person. The ‘intruder’, the ‘murderer’, was me.

I perched stiffly on the edge of my bed. Why would I have done it? I came home around 12.30 a.m. last night. If I’d bumped into her then, she probably held me hostage for a long time, pressing to find out what I had been doing. She would have figured out that I was on the verge of having a seizure, and she would have realised I wasn’t taking my meds. Her speciality, gentle scolding, would have begun. But that still didn’t explain why I would have killed her. How many mothers would still be alive if their sons murdered them when they got caught doing something they shouldn’t?

I slumped over. Nobody would side with me. I needed someone who would believe me, no matter what anyone said, no matter what kind of evidence they could dig up. I looked down at the black Gore-Tex jacket, the words Private Lesson embossed on the back in blue. Would he believe me? Would he help me?

It was August, the day after I’d taken the exam to enter law school. I’d taken a Mokpo-bound train at Hae-jin’s invitation. Since May, he had been part of a crew filming on an isolated island called Imja in Sinan County. Lonely and bored, he had called nearly every day to see what was going on. If he’d had something to drink, he’d call once an hour and ask, ‘What’s up?’ Each time, he insisted that I should come for a visit after my exams. ‘I want to show you something.’

‘What is it?’

‘You’ll see when you get here.’

I didn’t take him seriously. Everything annoyed me at the time, because I had the worst headaches and all I was doing was studying; I didn’t have time to even think about Imja Island. More than anything, I didn’t want Mother on my back. Though I was twenty-five, I’d never travelled alone, not even backpacking or going abroad to learn a foreign language like everyone else. Mother went so far as to ensure that I went to work at the local government office instead of letting me escape for military service. All for the same reason that my curfew was 9 p.m. – to prevent my having a seizure out in the world all by myself.

I was at the dining table when Hae-jin called. ‘Tomorrow’s the last day of shooting,’ he said. ‘You have to come. You can stay over one night, and then we’ll go home together.’

I hesitated and glanced at Mother.

Even though he couldn’t see me, he understood instantly. He asked me to put Mother on the line. ‘Let me try.’

Hae-jin was persuasive. Mother listened without protesting, then said, ‘All right.’ She didn’t stop her nagging, though. Don’t forget to take your medicine, don’t drink, don’t get in people’s way… On the way to Gwangmyeong station, she added, ‘Don’t go into the deep water,’ as if she’d completely forgotten that I’d once been a competitive swimmer.

Everything was fine all the way to Mokpo and on the intercity bus to Sinan. The symptoms started when the ferry left Jeomam Quay. For the twenty minutes it took to get to Imja Island, I was surrounded by a strong metallic scent, and I hallucinated that the sun was literally burning my eyes. I couldn’t tell if I was about to have a seizure or not; maybe I was just getting sunstroke.

If I had been taking my meds, it would have been obvious. But I’d stopped taking them two days before the exam, for the first time since the episode I’d had when I was fifteen. I was going to start taking them again the night after my exams, but I changed my mind when Hae-jin called. I decided I would wait until I returned home from Imja Island. What’s two more days? I thought. I wanted to revel in my true self, freed from my usual constraints.

But by the time we docked at Imja Island, my hallucinations were so severe that I could barely keep my eyes open. I got in a cab, the metallic smell permeating everything around me. Sweat was running down my back, but I was freezing. I now understood that I was going to have a seizure but I was too far away to go back home. I had to get to Hae-jin’s place as fast as possible. I told the driver to rush to Hauri Harbour.

‘Let’s give it a go,’ the driver said.

I felt that I was drifting in and out of consciousness as the car flew along the roads.

‘Excuse me.’ The driver had turned around in his seat and was shaking my knee. ‘We’re here.’

I opened my eyes. We were at the harbour. I managed to pay and get out of the cab. I didn’t have to go far; this was where they were shooting. Two men were running along the top of the tetrapod-covered sea wall as the camera followed them, a large truck spewing water over the actors. People were huddled around monitors. Villagers had gathered around the perimeter of the shoot to watch. I stopped about ten metres away. I needed to lie down, but I couldn’t move. Hot white light trapped me. The world disappeared. The last thing I heard was Hae-jin yelling, ‘Yu-jin!’

When I came to, I was lying down. My vision was still fuzzy but I knew right away that the brown eyes that met mine were Hae-jin’s. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I croaked, and a headache gripped me. It wasn’t the usual sharp stabbing from behind my eyes but a heavy pain pressing on my head.

‘Can you see me?’

I saw the beach umbrella above his head. Something soft was under mine. My trousers were damp. I must have pissed myself during the seizure. A black jacket was draped over me.

‘Are you hurt?’

Everything hurt, even my jaw; maybe I’d been grinding my teeth. It must have been a bad one. I could hear people on the other side of the umbrella. I could see myself collapsing in front of them, Hae-jin running over, grabbing the umbrella to give me privacy, a cushion to prop my head up, and clothes to conceal my lack of bladder control. I wanted to go home.

‘Can you get up?’

I sat up. We went to Hae-jin’s place, which was near the docks. I showered and changed, while Hae-jin packed his things and called a cab. I had arrived just as they were finishing the shoot, and the only thing left was the wrap party.

I knew what films meant to Hae-jin – this was what he’d dreamed of since he was twelve, maybe even younger. It had kept his spirits up while his alcoholic grandfather was raising him, and had given him something to live for when he’d lost his grandfather and become an orphan. These three months at Imja Island were the first step toward his dreams; he must have wanted to stay and celebrate.

I knew all of this, but I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to go home by myself; I didn’t even think I could go back outside. A strange chill settled under my ribs. I sat curled up in the corner of his room, wrapped in his jacket, until the cab came. The jacket smelled like something I hadn’t smelled in a long time – the grass on the waste ground near Sinchon station, from back when I used to wet my bed.