INFB Ch 16

Seobin couldn’t help but gape his mouth open without realizing it. It was a reason he couldn’t understand. Given the age of the caregiver, whose hair was flecked with gray and who had deep wrinkles around her eyes, her son must be at least, really at least, over thirty. To think she had to go make him a meal for no other reason than that.

Was that son physically disabled? Or did he have a disease of the mind where he couldn’t eat meals on his own? Or had he been missing and returned after a few days?

Seobin was puzzled, but he didn’t pry for the reason. Because the form of a family varies from one to another. And even if he heard the reason, he didn’t think he would be able to understand it. Since he himself had never eaten a meal made by his mother and father his whole life.

He had heard that he was raised by a hired sitter ever since he was a newborn baby. When he wore a school uniform, he ate meals prepared by the housekeeper—that was, Jaegyu’s mother.

Seobin hurriedly entered his mother’s hospital room. The caregiver who had been sitting beside his mother approached as if she had been waiting. She was already wearing her outerwear. Apparently, her son was on the verge of starving to death after starving for about three days.

“Hello.”

Checking his mother’s condition with his eyes first, Seobin bowed his waist deeply. The caregiver buttoned up her coat and approached with quick, short steps.

“Oh, student! Why are you so late?”

“I’m sorry. I came right away.”

“Tsk, I told you to come quickly… By the way, did you lose weight? Your face looks hollow?”

“Ah. I was a bit… sick.”

Seobin stroked his cheek and smiled awkwardly. The skin felt rough at his fingertips. Come to think of it, he couldn’t even apply lotion after washing up this morning. Surely his skin must have felt tight. Since there was no spot on his body that didn’t hurt, he hadn’t even recognized that faint sense of pain.

The caregiver clicked her tongue—tsk, tsk. Then she pulled out something from her small handbag and handed it into Seobin’s hand.

“You’re the pillar of your home, student. You have to take care of your health. Drink this.”

Seobin looked down at what was placed in his hand. It was orange juice contained in a glass bottle. Something people commonly buy by the box when visiting the sick. In fact, in terms of ingredients, it was closer to sugar water rather than juice.

“…”

If it were back in his ‘young master’ days, it would have been a food he wouldn’t even put near his mouth. But ironical as it was, he was glad to see it now. Because it had been a long time since he had eaten something that could be named a snack. When he imagined the sweet yet refreshing taste, saliva seeped out from between his molars.

“Thank you.”

Seobin bowed his head slightly and held the juice tightly. The caregiver laughed softly—hoho—and patted Seobin’s forearm.

“Yeah. I’m going now.”

“Yes.”

“I was here for four hours, so calculate it by the hour and deposit the money.”

“…Yes.”

Seobin nodded his head a beat late. She must have been here for about three hours and ten minutes. Demanding money for four hours so confidently, he felt a bit resentful toward her, yet also envious. Wondering what he should do so that he, too, could say such words shamelessly.

The caregiver left with quick steps. As she left the hospital room, she made a phone call to her son, and he could hear her saying things like what did he want to eat, she was going to stop by the supermarket on her way, where in the master bedroom the boiler ran particularly well so go sit there, and things like that.

Seobin stared at her back with eyes of unknown meaning, then turned his gaze back to the hospital room.

The six-bed hospital room was quiet. That was because everyone was a long-term hospitalized patient. Most had no intention of being discharged, their interpersonal relationships were not active, they had no hobbies, and they had no money to move to a better hospital room.

Drawing the curtains to sleep or staring blankly out the window was all they did. A hospital room that was full of people yet desolate—this was probably the only place like that. It was to the point that the caregiver grumbled that people were too quiet and there was no fun.

Of course, the quietest one was Seobin’s mother. A patient who hadn’t said a single word since her hospitalization.

Seobin pulled the zipper of the hooded zip-up he was wearing all the way up to beneath his chin. Because Jaegyu’s bite marks hadn’t completely disappeared yet, he was concerned. It didn’t seem like his mother would see those traces, but even so, he wanted to hide them.

A son selling his body. Wasn’t that too terrible a sentence?

Seobin unnecessarily smoothed his hair and cleared his throat. Then he approached his mother and greeted her with a bright smile.

“I’m here, Mother.”

There was no answer.

“How is your body feeling?”

There was no answer to that either. It was a matter of course, but Seobin still made a point of talking to her regularly.

It wasn’t an easy thing. Because even when she was perfectly fine and alive, they hardly conversed. In fact, at the beginning of her hospitalization, when he couldn’t find a caregiver and looked after her himself, he hadn’t said a single word either.

What on earth would he say? To a person who couldn’t even hear, and who had never thought fondly of his existence her whole life.

However, from a certain point, he came to blurt out words regardless. It wasn’t out of hope like, what if Mother is listening?

He just did it for his own good.

Coming back home and chattering to his mother about what happened to him. Because he wanted to try doing it. Also because she was the only one in the world who would listen to his daily life.

Seobin pulled the chair where the caregiver had been sitting and sat close to the bed. Then he placed his hand lightly over the back of his mother’s hand. Lacking any vitality, it didn’t feel like a person’s hand at all. It felt like touching old leather or a dry tree branch.

“Today, the auntie had an errand to run, so I’ll be here.”

“…”

“Ah, it didn’t seem like a big deal. She said her son came home and she had to go make him a meal.”

“…”

“Isn’t it strange? Is that such an important matter? To the point of leaving work midway?”

“…”

“If it were me, work would come first. You have to make money, after all. Because daily wages are far more important than just a single meal…”

A meal—that’s something you eat in the evening too, and eat tomorrow too… Seobin spoke while gently rubbing the orange juice the caregiver had left behind.

Come to think of it, every time he met her, she handed something into his hand. Sometimes she gave tangerines, a handful of almonds, or a red bean bread flattened from being crushed somewhere, songpyeon with a hardened exterior, a cold carp-shaped bread, four cherry tomatoes. She gave things like that.

“Does she like eating that much?”

Even though her build was small. It was a peculiar thing.

“What did you do in the morning? I was cleaning the bathroom at the gosiwon all morning— .”

Seobin continued muttering in a small voice, then suddenly shut his mouth tight.

Gosiwon, bathroom, cleaning.

Although there was no high or low in professions, he had the thought that it was not something his mother particularly needed to know. Because she was always dignified, valued elegance, and cared about how others saw her.

Well, even if she knew that he did manual labor and wiped men’s urine at a gosiwon, he didn’t think she would care, but still. He wanted to tell her that he was living well.

He wanted to appear that way.

Not just to his mother, but to himself as well.

Seobin kept his head lowered for a moment, staring at the floor. Then he wiped his face dry roughly and straightened his head.

“…”

Today, without fail, his mother was looking into the empty air ahead. Wondering what was there for her to stare so intently into space. When there was nothing but a dusty fluorescent light.

Seobin hesitated, then leaned his face into her field of vision. And he awkwardly raised the corners of his mouth to make a smile.

Whenever his mother met eyes with Seobin, she usually turned her gaze away. So Seobin also tried not to enter her field of vision. Avoiding, running away, and stepping backward so as not to create the act of being ignored itself.

However, the mother of today did not ignore him. But that didn’t mean she was looking at him either. Surely I was reflected in her eyes, yet I wasn’t there.

Seobin wore a bitter smile.

Feeling that whether in the past or now, he couldn’t cross the solid wall she had built, his heart felt empty. Even if she were to die like this, he would ultimately fail to cross that wall.

However, Seobin was not discouraged.

It was an indifference he had carried with him his whole life. To cry now saying it was sad was funny, too. But he had no intention of abandoning his mother while resenting her, either. Either way, she was his mother, and she was the family he had to love.

Taking a deep breath, Seobin pulled the corners of his mouth again and stood up from his seat. And he began his work in earnest.