Vol 3 Ch 16

The next day. 

While changing into pants to go to the hospital, I noticed that I had lost more weight—my waist had grown thinner again. I hastily prepared a half-hearted meal to quell my hunger. Although I had no appetite, I forced myself to eat, thinking that if Mom were to wake up, I wanted to face her looking presentable.

“……”

When I saw Mom again in her hospital room, she was still lying motionless, exactly as I had left her, on the bed. The pallor around her shallow eyelids painted her face with a lifeless hue. Her skin, dry and parched, resembled brittle firewood.

I parted my chapped lips and murmured,

“…I had tuna sashimi yesterday.”

“……”

“It tasted good, probably because it was expensive.”

I mentioned we should go eat it together someday. Of course, there was no response, only silence. Her closed eyelids meant the coat I wore to show I was living decently served no purpose.

When it was nearly time for the caregiver to return, I left the hospital room. As I lingered near the phone booth at the end of the hallway, I stepped inside and picked up the receiver.

–The phone is turned off…

As expected, my uncle’s phone only played the message that his line had been disconnected before cutting off. Anticipating it, I wasn’t too disappointed. As I put the receiver back in place, I caught sight of an unfamiliar woman entering Mom’s hospital room through the transparent wall.

Could that be the caregiver? It was the first time I had seen her face. If we were to meet, I planned to pretend I was a relative, but I’d been lucky so far to avoid crossing paths. Regardless of it being lunchtime, there could have been a reason for her to stop by, even briefly.

Leaving behind the uneasy, lingering suspicion, I turned and walked away.

Back at home, I cleaned the house thoroughly. The weather was relatively mild, so after washing myself, I hung my hand-washed undergarments and clothes on a drying rack. If I hung them on the veranda in this weather, they’d stiffen like clubs, so I dragged the rack inside the house.

In a corner of the house that resembled a model home in its pristine appearance, a clothing collection pile had formed. From the deliberately turned-on TV, artificial human voices poured out.

“……”

I busied myself, searching for things to do. After propping a mop against the window for a moment, I pressed my palm against the glass and looked down below.

It was unmistakably a prison without bars. It felt like I was an inmate locked in a massive solitary cell. Though there was no actual lock, even going to the convenience store in front of the house drew someone’s gaze.

“……”

The quietness of the house made countless thoughts flash through my mind.

How much of the debt hadn’t I paid off yet? The remaining principal and the interest would have been multiplying on their own, growing monthly. If debt collectors ever came to the hospital, things would get messy.

I sighed deeply. Where on earth was Uncle? Did he plan on never coming back? The thoughts spiraled endlessly, filling my head. The stillness became a monster with sharp claws, tangling and scratching at my mind.

“……”

The man was late again today, or rather, he didn’t come home at all. Still, I didn’t think much of it. He was a man who practically lived at the golf course. He was probably staying there again.

I figured he’d come back when his funds ran low. Since he’d go mad if he didn’t satisfy his desires on time, I arrogantly assumed he’d return sooner or later.

But the man didn’t return that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. Two weeks passed just like that.

***

Days of instability, creaking like an unsteady wheel, continued.

When morning came, I crawled out of my room lethargically and headed for the living room. I habitually turned on the TV, rummaged through the built-in cabinet, and popped open a can to inflate my hollowed stomach.

Then, I heard something outside the door. Like Pavlov’s dog responding to the sound of a bell, my gaze instinctively snapped toward the door.

Whoosh. It was just the sound of the wind. It wasn’t a person, only the wind blowing.

Two weeks had passed since I last left the Japanese restaurant. There was still no word from the man who used to barge in at any hour, day or night. The woman had stopped coming to the house since his absence. On days when she was supposed to visit, one of his employees would simply drop off food and leave.

“……”

I ate the food from the microwave with a fork. It was lukewarm, probably underheated, but I didn’t mind. My eyes remained fixed on the TV screen, where a woman at a desk was reporting current events. Everything she said felt distant, as though it were happening in an era far removed from mine.

“…Here’s today’s weather.”

The screen shifted, and a weathercaster announced it would rain in the evening.

Rain?

I put down my fork and approached the window. Tilting my head upward, I looked at the sky. It was as dark as if gray paint had been spilled across it. Placing my hand on the window, I looked down. The quiet outdoor scenery unfolded before me. A cold gust of wind swirled across the empty lot below.

The windowpane was already covered in countless handprints. They were all marks I had left while looking down below. Staring at those white handprints, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

The man might never come back this time.

It was a plausible suspicion. An inexplicable unease brushed past my chest. My fingers curled inward on their own. Resting my fist against the window, I was filled with confusion.

…Then what happens to me now?

***

Perhaps because of the gloomy weather, even those wheeling themselves around in wheelchairs stayed near the hospital entrance today. The corridor leading to the hospital room was steeped entirely in gray. The somber atmosphere permeated the white building.

Entering Mom’s room, I adjusted the hem of my coat and sat down on a chair.

Seeing her lifeless face, I instinctively checked the respirator first. It fogged up, then cleared, then fogged up again. Weak but steady, she was breathing. Watching her faint breaths fog up the plastic mask, I turned to the window.

Large windows, deliberately designed so immobile patients could enjoy the view, revealed rain-heavy clouds gathering quickly.

“It’s going to rain this evening.”

“……”

“…They say there’ll be thunder too.”

Tap, tap. As soon as I finished speaking, raindrops hit the window.

After using up all the time I was allowed, I quietly left the hospital room. Out of habit, I headed to the phone booth and picked up the receiver. My fingers hovered over the buttons, but instead, I leaned against the wall of the booth, drained.

Clink, clink. The payphone swallowed the coins. Soon, the dial tone sounded.

“…Huh?”

I had expected to hear the message saying the phone was disconnected. But to my surprise, that didn’t happen. I straightened my back and clutched the phone tightly.

Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes as I waited.

Beep. The transmission tone was cut off.

“…Uncle?”

No response. But holding onto a sliver of hope, I quickly added,

“…Uncle.”

-……

“I thought something had happened to you.”

To be precise, I thought you had vanished completely. I heard a sigh—faint but clear—through the receiver. It carried a sharp, acrid undertone. He was likely smoking.

“I’m in Seoul now. I heard from the previous hospital that you moved Mom’s hospital here…”

Your name is listed as the guardian. Why haven’t you shown up all this time? Did you really use the money I sent to pay off Dad’s debts? I wanted to press him for answers, but those questions could only wait until we met in person. First, I needed to find out where he was.

“…Uncle, where are you right now?”

I waited quietly for an answer, but none came. I strained my ears, picking up only the faintest hint of movement. Then—thud—something fell to the ground, followed by a faint hissing sound. I could picture him crushing a cigarette butt underfoot.

“Please, say something. Anything.”

My plea was met with silence. Desperation clawed at me, and I begged again.

“…Please.”

-……

Fearing the call might disconnect, I was about to call him again when—

“Un—”

–Aaaaaaah!

A horrifying scream erupted from the other end of the line. The sound splintered into jagged fragments, reverberating in my ears. It was a throat-rending cry, raw and hoarse, the kind only a longtime smoker could produce.

–Ahhh!

The piercing shriek slashed through the air like an axe, only to suddenly, sharply cut off. It was as if someone had severed the connection with scissors.

Then came the beeps.

 

Beep, beep, beep.

Staring blankly at the disconnected phone, I stood frozen, as though struck on the back of the head with a hammer. My mouth hung open, unable to close.

…What on earth was that?

The acrid tone of the voice had been unmistakably Uncle’s. No doubt about it—it was his scream. With trembling hands, I immediately tried calling him back.

Gnawing on my fingernails, I anxiously waited for him to answer. But all I got was the endless transmission tone. No matter how many times I redialed, the result was the same.

A chill swept over me. Goosebumps rose all over my body, and an icy dread trickled down my spine. My mind went blank from the shock of the situation. Reality felt like it had slipped away entirely. I stood alone in the small, plasticky phone booth.

One by one, passersby glanced at me, their curious eyes lingering briefly before moving on. I stood there, motionless, as time crawled by at a sluggish pace, like a still-life frozen in place.

Suddenly, my eyes moved on their own, drawn toward the end of the corridor leading to the stairwell. There, like a black specter, someone was standing. Sensing my gaze, the silhouette shifted. A passerby chatting with a companion brushed shoulders with the figure.

“Oh, I’m so sorry—”

“……”
The person turned to face the dark figure and recoiled in fright, as though burned, stepping away quickly. Onlookers’ faces turned pale.

The dark figure moved closer to me. A massive, solid build like a boulder, thick limbs like tree trunks, and a scar slashing across his cheek—everything about him screamed his association with certain shady circles.

The man, an employee of CEO Jang, stopped a few paces in front of me. He must have come looking for me himself, tired of waiting for me to return.

“Let’s go.”

He cast a deliberate glance at his wristwatch, as if to remind me he was a busy man. Every day, this employee drove me here and then back home. While he never voiced it outright, his irritation was evident.

Reluctantly, I hung up the phone and dragged my feet out of the booth. Following behind CEO Jang’s man, I felt like a criminal being led away, only missing the handcuffs.

Tap, tap.

The sound of gentle knocking tickled my ears. A few drops of clear liquid began to hit the windows lining the corridor. The droplets soon turned into a heavier, faster rhythm.

Tap-tap-tap!

Screams echoed from below as people scrambled for cover from the sudden rain.

The car skidded to a stop on the slick road in front of the building. From the backseat, I stepped out and swiftly crossed the downpour to enter the building. It was only a meter or so, but in that brief distance, I was soaked to the skin.

The cold seeped in, making me shiver. All I could think about was warming up with a hot shower and changing into dry clothes.

The moment I got home, I stripped off my wet clothes and stepped into the warm water. My icy nose and cheeks softened as the heat seeped in.

Afterward, I wrapped myself in a robe and stuffed my drenched clothes into a storage box. Feeling drained, I began searching for something to wear. On the drying rack hung a man’s shirt, along with my pants and underwear.

“……”

Most of the clothes he had bought me were still hanging untouched in the wardrobe, tags intact. I could probably return them for a refund if I wanted to, though it had already been two weeks—far too late now.

Taking down the shirt, I untied the robe’s sash. Just as I was about to shrug off the robe, I froze and turned my head. My eyes were drawn to the small red light on the ceiling camera, the one overlooking the living room and kitchen.

…He’s not watching anymore, right?

Reassuring myself, I removed the robe and quickly dressed, shivering at the brief brush of cool air on my skin.

“……”

The soft fabric clung snugly to me. Even the finest materials eventually grew more comfortable after repeated wear.

I sank into the sofa, feeling my body go slack. The damp, slightly sagging leather felt warm and cozy, like being cradled in a blanket.

Hissss.

I gazed out the window at the rain. January nights came early, and with the thick blanket of storm clouds dominating the sky, it was even darker than usual.

Hissss, the rain poured down—no, it was a deluge. It felt as if the entire house was submerged deep within a vast ocean. Even the television’s noise seemed faint, drowned out by the rain pounding outside.

Despite the storm raging beyond the transparent walls, a strange tranquility settled over me. It felt as though an immense, invisible barrier separated me from the chaos outside.

“……”

Trapped in this solitude, I began replaying the earlier phone call with Uncle in my head. As I nervously chewed on my thumb, the old, discolored bandage unraveled, falling onto my thigh like a peeled apple skin.

…What if Uncle hadn’t been ignoring my calls?

What if he hadn’t been able to answer?

The unsettling noises I had heard through the receiver… Who did they belong to?

Images of debt collectors flashed in my mind. Could it have been them? No, I quickly dismissed the thought. They were only after money. If they were using Uncle as leverage, they wouldn’t have cut off the call like that.

The more I thought about it, the more potential culprits came to mind. Uncle was the type to make enemies everywhere he went. It wouldn’t be shocking to find him stabbed in some alley, discovered as a corpse the next day.

“……”

Something bad must have happened to Uncle.

And yet, I felt no sympathy. Even the tiniest shred of pity would be a luxury he didn’t deserve. He was the kind of bastard who should’ve been dead long ago.

My temples throbbed with a dull ache. My mind was a tangled mess, overwhelmed with scattered thoughts that flooded in without end. It felt as though someone was stretching and compressing the folds of my brain, over and over again.

Lost in thought, I found myself rising from the sofa and heading to the kitchen. I grabbed a sugar jar from the shelf and returned to my seat.

The fine powder inside made a soft sound as I tilted the jar.

Clutching the jar tightly, I let my eyelids close. I didn’t want to think about anything anymore. Forcing myself, I tried to sleep.

Tossing and turning for what felt like forever, I eventually drifted off.

Outside, the relentless rain continued to lash against the earth like a whip.