Bae Suah - Nowhere to Be Found

“Let’s go over there to talk.”

Get your hands off me. Don’t stroke my face. I’m not an animal.

Why was I suddenly thinking that?

I felt doubtful, but Cheolsu looked straight ahead as we walked.

“I wrote to my mom. Told her not to come. I told her it would make you too uncomfortable.”

“It didn’t matter to me.”

“But it did.” He sounded upset. “You took so long that I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I left early this morning.”

“Then what happened? It’s almost three p.m.”

“The guards at the PX told me you were doing a training exercise at a different base. I went all the way to the other base, on the other side of a snow-covered mountain, but they told me you were here. They said there are two officers-in-training named Kim Cheolsu. The other wasn’t there because he got in an accident during training, so they sent me back here. They said you were probably the Kim Cheolsu I was looking for. I came all the way back, worried I might never see you again.”

The words came out so fast that I wasn’t sure I even believed myself. I stopped. No further explanation seemed necessary. Cheolsu probably felt the same. He listened to me with his mouth half-open and didn’t say anything for nearly a minute.

“What are you talking about? You think there are like five hundred officers-in-training here? I’m the only Kim Cheolsu. There’s been a huge misunderstanding. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and ask someone else.”

I didn’t understand what was going on either. Was this hatred I was feeling? Or a dull affection buried deep inside? Or was I merely acting out some dramatic emotion in order to endure this chaotic life? I had no idea. But for God’s sake, stop petting my shoulder like that. I’m not an animal.

After a brief silence he asked, “Did you eat?”

We held hands as we walked. Like two lovers on a snowy, unpaved road. I shook my head.

“There’s not much to eat here. Just cookies.” Cheolsu sounded apologetic, and then he held up the bag of chicken as if he’d suddenly remembered it was there. “We have this!”

I shuddered in horror.

“I hate chicken. Besides, that’s for you.”

“Says who?”

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“It’s over there.”

Cheolsu pointed to the soldiers’ latrines at the end of the parade ground. I went inside and squatted down awkwardly, trying to keep my body from touching the latrine door, and peed for a long time. My thighs and bottom were ice cold. When I came out, Cheolsu was pouring a can of Coke into two paper cups. He was sitting on a bench beneath a tree overlooking the snowy parade ground. Cheolsu’s friends and their girlfriends, mothers, and little sisters were staring at us from across the way. They looked like they were waiting to see how much I would enjoy eating his chicken.

“Here, dig in.”

He tried to hand me some Coke. I shook my head.

“Eat! I bet you haven’t eaten anything all day,” he said, tearing up the chicken.

“Cheolsu, are there two Kim Cheolsus here?”

“Huh?”

He put down the chicken and looked at me.

“Tell me. Is there another officer-in-training named Kim Cheolsu besides you?”

“I told you there isn’t. Someone made a mistake. Either you misheard them or some idiot private misunderstood you. Besides, what does it matter? You’re here now, and the Kim Cheolsu you were looking for is right in front of you. So who cares? Have some chicken.”

“It’s your chicken.” I pushed away his hand as he held out the carcass. “Cheolsu is a very common name. You know that.”

“What the hell are you getting at?”

“I know I said your name clearly, both here and at the other base. Kim Cheolsu. I said I was here to meet Kim Cheolsu. Just like that. But the soldier at the drill field told me, ‘The Kim Cheolsu who was supposed to be on this training exercise isn’t here. I’m not sure which one you’re looking for, but you should go back to the base where you first checked in. The Kim Cheolsu who’s there is probably the one you’re looking for.’ That’s what he said.”

“You’re tired.” Cheolsu gazed into my eyes as if to soothe me. “That’s why your nerves are frazzled. Have some chicken. You’ll get your strength back, and you’ll feel better. Do what I say.”

My eyes started to well up with tears. Up until that moment I’d never really understood sadness. The fierce, mob-like sadness that would come over me, clear and strong. Where did it come from? Was it real? This sadness that crept up and cut through all of my routines and my boredom and my repetition and my drama, like a sliver of glass piercing my flesh and sticking in the soles of my feet?

“I went to see your mother,” I said. “She called me.”

I ignored Cheolsu’s chicken and kept talking. He must have seen my tears, but he wouldn’t move his hand away, which was still holding the carcass.

“I really don’t belong with you. If it was like the old days, when all we did was bump into each other at the bus stop on the way home from school and say hello, that would be one thing, but this isn’t it.”

“What are you saying?”

“I hate the formulaic lives you and your mother lead.”

Finally, I’d said it.

“Don’t say that. Eat some chicken.”

It seemed like Cheolsu was suppressing his anger, or his wounded pride. His voice was high and peevish. I took the chicken, placed it back in the container, and put it in the torn paper bag. Cheolsu watched wordlessly. I carried the bag over to the latrines. The snow was falling prettily on the paper bag that held the chicken carcass, on my footprints, on my sweater, and on the soldiers’ latrines, like a drawing of a landscape at midnight. The weather was frighteningly dark, and the world was filled with shadows that made it impossible to tell the time. I tossed Cheolsu’s chicken into the latrine and turned around. Cheolsu was standing right behind me. I ignored him and walked away. His friends, and their girlfriends, mothers, and little sisters were still staring at us.

“I’ll never forgive you for this. Ever,” Cheolsu hissed at me as I brushed past him. “All you do is put up walls and make excuses that I can’t understand. I’ve always hated people who go through life as if they don’t care, making everyone else pander to their moods. I tried to feel a sense of duty toward you.”

Without looking at him, I said, “Now that your toilet has eaten your chicken, you’ve done your duty.”

And then I left.

I became very ill after returning home. I had a fever and my body broke out in hives. My room was covered in dust from not having been cleaned in a long time, and at night I heard rats scuttling around. No one opened my door to check whether I was alive or dead. At work they were planning a Christmas party; they called to ask whether I could make it. One of the women who worked in the university office told me that it had been snowing the entire time I was sick, and there was a big commotion because everyone who’d taken a weekend trip to Gangwon Province was stuck there. On the third day, after my fever lifted, I took some bread and butter out of my desk drawer and ate it with barley tea. The cold butter and the lukewarm tea sat in my mouth. My brother’s departure date for Japan was approaching. He told me he was going to take out a loan to cover the rest of the money he needed. He put on a black fur-lined hat, black boots, and black gloves. He looked like an aging thief.

“I’ll send you money,” he promised me. “Mia is starting high school next year, and you’ll need money for your wedding. Stop working nights at that restaurant. I’ll send you money.”