Raising a Neglected Singer-Songwriter - Chapter 5



Only Krnovel

Episode 5. 21st Century Boy (2)

Spring is often called the season of life.

The trees that had been curled up all winter are starting to stretch and show off their greenery, and warmth is blooming on the frozen ground.

The warmth that blooms like that spreads like wildfire.

An unknown sprout in the gap between the cement.

A frog that was hibernating.

The animals in the zoo are basking in the sun with their hunched bodies and mouths wide open.

but.

-widely.

The lights came on and I pulled the blanket around me tighter.

“… … How long are you going to be like this?”

It’s a big deal.

“well.”

Chook!

Beomseok walked over with brisk strides and roughly opened the curtains covering the room.

“Well, what is it? Ugh… … that smell. Why does the room of a twenty-year-old boy smell like the smell of a widower in his fifties?”

“Close.”

“No. This is my home, Emma.”

“… … .”

I can’t really refute that.

Suddenly dropped into the future, the only thing he can rely on is Beomseok, who has become bald.

When I stared blankly at the TV instead of answering, Beomseok picked up the remote control and turned off the TV.

“Hey, Emma. Are you just going to watch TV all day?”

“well.”

“Ah. I feel suffocated.”

“There’s a lot to see. You haven’t seen it. The past 30 years.”

“So what? Are you just going to stay locked up in your room like a hikikomori and watch TV until you see everything you’ve missed?”

“well…….”

“Oh my… … .”

Beomseok put his hands on his waist, sighed, and swallowed a few times.

And then.

“Let’s eat.”

“… … .”

“Pretend you can’t win, Emma. Don’t make me feel guilty for starving my friend whom I haven’t seen in 30 years.”

My powerless eyes turned to Beomseok.

You are a great friend.

So, you must have come to me first, overcoming the gap of time.

Paying the hospital bills for me.

He deceived people by saying that I, who had died 30 years ago, was his son.

After I was discharged from the hospital, he brought me to his house and took care of me to the end, even though I’ve been locked up in my room for three months.

As the guy said, I pretended not to be able to win and got up, staggering towards the table.

The guy’s big, strong hands grab my staggering body and sit me down on a chair.

“Eat.”

His words breathe strength into my hands like a spell.

I picked up my spoon and took a spoonful of the steaming hot soybean paste stew.

“It’s delicious.”

“It’s delicious. Man, I’ve been doing this for 10 years already. I’m a master.”

“… … .”

After a few more conversations, silence fell over the table again.

Huroop-

A few spoonfuls.

After a few more chopstick strokes and I put down my spoon, the guy opened his mouth as if to soothe me.

“Aren’t you going to see your father?”

“……well.”

“You don’t want to admit it?”

“… … .”

I couldn’t answer what the guy said.

Because I was telling you why, for the past few months, I’ve been cooped up in my room like a hibernating bear, watching TV all day and then falling asleep.

Thirty years of time.

My acquaintances who ran with all their might through the world where I disappeared.

And my friend.

My family.

To the world.

The music we dreamed of has long since disappeared into the back alleys of history.

Rock has disappeared from the TV screens that we’ve been watching like idiots for months. And people are saying this.

―Rock is dead.

Music that has already disappeared into the depths of history.

New music takes its place.

Again, new music covers that music.

Rock has now become a relic of prehistoric times.

But I wasn’t the one to be frustrated.

It is clear that when all of those things come at once, the strength to resist is gone.

More precisely, I didn’t want to admit it.

So I don’t know what to do.

“Do you know what people say when they meet someone they haven’t seen in a long time?”

Instead of answering, I looked into the guy’s eyes and Beomseok continued speaking.

“How have you been? What have you been doing? What do you do for a living? Where do you live? How? Are you married? If you are married, do you have children? If you do have children, how old are they?”

“It’s a mess.”

“Yeah. It’s annoying. But maybe because I’m getting older, I like people who are annoying like that.”

“… … .”

“Okay. Do it. For me.”

I looked into the guy’s eyes.

It’s eagle-eyed.

What power the years have given him.

Or maybe it was something that was taken away that gave it this depth, I don’t know.

“Try it, you rascal. Why do you live alone? Why do you make soybean paste stew so amazingly? How did you manage to pretend to be my son! You’re not stupid, are you? Huh?! Even if you were twenty, if you were my friend, you should have asked me these things. If you thought of me as a friend. So if you saw the me that has changed, even if you were still the same, then you would have.”

“… … .”

“There are things you should have asked me before thinking about your pain.”

A huge hole formed in my heart.

Sancho advances to fill the hole.

He rides a bloody horse and charges towards the windmills of evil.

Shame covers my face, but I too must raise my head.

I can’t ignore the hand of my friend who is trying so hard to wake me up.

“You’re married, so why… … do you live alone?”

The guy sighs in relief and answers my question, which I opened with great effort.

“Because I got divorced.”

“What about the child?”

“There was one… ….”

“… … .”

“He died. It’s been about a year and a half.”

“… … .”

“She was so pretty. When we made eye contact like this, she smiled brightly. Kiya… …, I couldn’t express the happiness I felt at that time in words.”

Beomseok scooped up a handful of rice, put it in his mouth, and slurped it.

Then he picks up the spoon again and puts some of the soybean paste stew he made into his mouth.

It wasn’t a meal… … it was like a struggle to survive.

I started to listen to the guy’s story as a listener rather than a speaker.

It’s a pivotal moment.

The last 30 years of my friend who only thought about my pain and ignored me.

I have to listen.

If I were his friend, as he said.

This is something that should have been done a long time ago.

“But it was too late for me to speak. Even when I was five… even when I was six.”

“… … .”

“He had a developmental disability. That’s why my wife took him to the United States. She said Korea wasn’t the right place to raise a child with a disability.”

In that short summary are contained the tears shed by the guy and his wife.

I couldn’t even feel the slightest urge.

“It was okay. Raising a disabled child costs a lot of money, and I have a lot of money. Plus, my wife is a doctor, and I am a doctor. My wife even got a job in the US. She said that it would be better to become an American to receive proper treatment. So I got citizenship and my son and wife became Americans. I think it was about 5 years ago… … . Well, thanks to that, my soybean paste stew skills have improved. My son has gotten a lot better too… … .”

“… … .”

“He came to Korea the winter before last. To see me. He really liked me.”

Even though he was full of pain, he was strong and calm.

Time can turn paper into clay, and it can also turn graphite into diamonds.

My immature friend has become an adult.

“how……?”

My mouth was barely open.

It was a squeeze of courage.

“While sleeping. He was just big. He swallowed a toy while sleeping. His airway was blocked and he died.”

“… … .”

“The kid’s father and mother are both doctors. The father is even an emergency room doctor. The kid went like that. Isn’t that absurd?”

“… … .”

“The child’s mother was just like you. She didn’t admit it. The child was dead.”

Even though I didn’t answer, the guy continued talking as if he was listening to a recorded audio. As if he was going to be in big trouble if he stopped.

“So when the child died, we didn’t report the death. The child’s mother was strongly against it. In Korea, he was a foreigner, and in the US, they would think he was staying in Korea for a long time. It seemed absurd, but it worked. Our… … son died… … except for my wife and me… … .”

Again, as if he had to do it, he played with his chopsticks and put kimchi in his mouth.

Ugh-

“I was worried that someone might ask me. Would the district office come out? Would the U.S. embassy check my stay? Then how would I respond… … . But no one asked me. … … No one.”

A huge hole of unknown depth appears in the guy’s chest.

It was a sadness so deep that I couldn’t even sympathize.

But in that sadness, the guy smiled.

“Our son’s name is Yidong. It’s exactly the same as yours.”

“… … What is that?”

“I built it for you. I wanted you to be good at studying and music like me, so you can do whatever you want.”

“……sorry.”

“What’s wrong with being sorry? I now believe in fate.”

“fate?”

“Yeah. Fate.”

I chewed over the guy’s words.

Fate… … that is.

“Working in the emergency room, I saw people dying every day, several times a day. The pain piles up here. And it’s eating me away.”

“… … .”

“To overcome that, you either have to become numb to your emotions and not see the patient as a person. There are things that can be achieved through human effort, and there are things that cannot be achieved. The things that cannot be achieved are just fate… … or you think. I was the latter.”

“… … .”

“So I ate three meals a day, without fail, on time. Until the day fate came knocking at my door. I had to do my part. Then, when I met my son, I would be able to proudly say that I had done enough to be a father.”

I’m looking at my friend in front of me.

The age of the guy is fifty years old.

Older than my third-year high school homeroom teacher.

The guy’s bald head and the wrinkles around his eyes.

In addition, the guy’s mind that has become deeper speaks.

The fear of 30 years of time.

Even though I feel that depth and sadness and the years that have passed, I still feel like he’s my friend.

Because this guy is speaking to me with his soul.

That’s about all that has changed.

Don’t be afraid, just accept it.

Only after the guy has emptied his bowl of rice, not leaving a single grain behind, as if he were performing a ritual, does he put down his spoon and stare at me.

“The fact that we became friends. The fact that we met after 30 years. The fact that I named my son Dong-ha. The fact that I didn’t report his death even after our Dong-ha died. The fact that you survived 30 years after that accident. The fact that you survived under my hand as a doctor. It was all fate that told me to do so.”

“……fate?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“… … My father… … passed away like that?”

“Oh. It’s fate. Just dismiss it as a trick of fate.”

Those were terrible words.

But those harsh words comfort me and wash away the pain in my body like rain.

It’s easy to cry when it rains.

Because the falling rain hides the tears.

I cried again and cried again.

“That’s how people live. While resisting fate. While accepting fate.”

“… … Will I really… … be able to live again?”

“uh.”

The guy speaks to me as I whine.

“Dream again. Sing again. Play guitar again. You’re still twenty. You’re still Dong-ha. Nothing has changed.”

Tears burst out like a dam, blurring my vision.

I can’t control myself anymore.

My immature friend has grown up and is comforting me.

“Don’t starve from now on.”

“……uh.”

Food and tears.

The soybean paste stew and snot were mixing, but I didn’t care and just poured it in.

The spring sunshine is visible beyond the blurred vision.

It must be Beomseok’s effort to welcome spring by opening all the windows in the house wide open.

So I… … finally encountered spring.

It was the moment of awakening from a long winter sleep.

“Do you think you can start living like a human being now, like the person you were born to live for?”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“rock.”

To be exact.

“Rock band.”