Don't Drink Today
Park Su-hwan could not properly remember his childhood.
The aftereffects of the accident that left him limping for the rest of his life had carved large and small blanks into his memory. On top of that, he had deliberately turned his back on those years, deciding there was no need to dig up painful recollections.
“I’m… an only child, you know?”
Even so, it was not as if he would simply forget a younger sibling who had actually existed.
“Oh, come on. Of course I know that. Who do you think cooked seaweed soup for you? Do you have any idea how good my memory is? I recognized you the second I heard the name.”
“Oh. Really?”
Park Su-hwan was startled by the revelation that she had once cooked seaweed soup for him.
“Yeah. You were little then, so of course you wouldn’t remember this auntie. But that’s not what I’m talking about. Hyun-seo used to say it all the time—that she couldn’t stand watching you grow up lonely.”
“That’s the first I’ve ever heard of it.”
Curiosity stirred at these unfamiliar words about his mother.
“Mm-hmm. So she really wanted a second child… but after having you her body weakened and they told her she couldn’t, so she went around saying she’d at least adopt. Honestly.”
The auntie suddenly swung her gaze toward the deaconess.
“Deaconess, you remember too, don’t you?”
“…Y-yes. That’s right. More importantly, aren’t you hot? What about the rest of you?”
“Oh, I’m fine. This is nothing.”
Everyone shook their heads and insisted they were all right. At last the auntie laughed heartily, waved a hand, and fixed her eyes on Park Su-hwan again.
“And then you suddenly moved away… so I naturally assumed things had worked out the way she wanted. You know how Hyun-seo is—once she sets her mind on something she finds a way no matter what. I never imagined she wouldn’t go through with it.”
“That’s true… Taking in a complete stranger isn’t easy, is it? It’s understandable. A difficult choice.”
The auntie nodded at the deaconess’s words.
“That’s right. It is. And from what I’ve raised, you don’t need a whole brood. One sharp kid is enough.”
She looked Park Su-hwan up and down and added,
“You’ve grown up so solid and dependable. So you’ve stayed in touch with the deaconess all this time?”
“No. I’m sorry to say I only contacted her after a long while. I had a favor to ask.”
It was so that Lee Han-gyeol, whose circumstances were difficult, could receive help from the church. Park Su-hwan simply chose not to voice that fact.
“Making a living comes first, of course. What about Hyun-seo? How could she not call even once after moving? She even changed her number completely. No matter how nice a place she went to—I’m really hurt.”
“A nice place?”
“Yeah! Her husband got a promotion—”
“S-sister! Come to think of it, didn’t you say you had somewhere to be? And everyone else, please go about your business. Quite a bit of time has passed.”
“Oh my. Oh my. Look at me. I have to get to the community center!”
Only then did she snatch out her phone in a fluster and check the time, as though the thought had just struck her.
“I’d better hurry. See you all later.”
“I’ll go with you. Your stories are so entertaining I completely lost track.”
“Me too. I’ve got to go cook for the kids. See you next time, everyone.”
“Deaconess, I’ll see you next week.”
“Take care.”
Greetings flew back and forth among the people hurriedly vacating their seats. When the dust settled, only Park Su-hwan, Lee Han-gyeol, and the deaconess remained.
“Tell your mom! The number’s still the same, so call her!”
Just then the auntie, already hurrying away, spun back toward Park Su-hwan and shouted at the top of her lungs.
“…Yes.”
How was he supposed to pass along regards to someone who had already left this world? With nothing else to offer, Park Su-hwan answered her with a quiet, bitter smile.
“I’m fine.”
“E-even so. I’m sorry.”
Park Su-hwan took the deaconess’s forced smile as pity aimed at him.
“A lot of time has passed. Right after the accident we sold the house and left, so it’s only natural the auntie wouldn’t know the details.”
Naturally, then, very few people could know the full truth of Park Su-hwan’s circumstances.
“And it’s not a story worth spreading around.”
“…Accident?”
Lee Han-gyeol, who had been listening quietly, asked carefully.
“Yeah. I told you my leg used to hurt.”
Park Su-hwan answered in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.
That was right. His parents had poured everything they had into healing that leg; it was no exaggeration.
“Not anymore, though.”
He shifted the left leg that had been injured in the accident, demonstrating its freedom.
Sadly, the recovery had nothing to do with his parents’ devotion. It was a miracle wrought by the ledger he had picked up one day—a truth he could never speak to a living soul.
“Th-that’s a relief. Still, that the treatment went well… How did that even— You know what I’m trying to say.”
So he left Lee Han-gyeol’s misunderstanding alone. The boy seemed flustered, as though he feared he had jabbed a raw nerve, and his words stumbled over one another.
“Well. I don’t really know.”
Park Su-hwan turned his gaze to the deaconess.
“Please explain things properly to the auntie.”
They say misfortune always arrives in a heap. Hard on the heels of his own accident, his mother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer—the very disease said to be nearly impossible to cure. To cover the crushing hospital bills, Park Su-hwan had been pushed into smaller and shabbier houses, one after another.
“Got it. Leave it to me.”
Next had come the sudden traffic accident that claimed his father and brought Park Su-hwan’s life crashing down completely.
Even so he had refused to give up. He had risen again, stubbornly, until he was strong enough to help someone else.
“Shall we go inside? We need to get the boy’s paperwork filled out right away.”
The deaconess stole a quick glance at his face and only then started toward the church doors.
Adoption, huh…
Park Su-hwan turned the conversation with the auntie over in his mind once more. He had never once imagined his mother had harbored such thoughts.
She had never so much as mentioned them to him.
Hmm… Well. Maybe she figured there was no point bringing it up. In the end she never got to do what she wanted anyway.
What if he had had a younger sibling? He could not picture it at all. One thing, however, was certain: he would never have made a good older brother.
Park Su-hwan had always considered his own personality thoroughly rotten.
His thoughts did not stop there.
Something about the exchange with the auntie kept snagging. One thing—no, two things.
First was the deaconess’s oddly flustered manner. He could not put a precise finger on it, yet throughout the conversation she had seemed to be watching his face for cues.
It might have been pure imagination, but in that moment Park Su-hwan had felt it clearly.
Second was the very fact of the move itself. The auntie believed his mother had relocated to some fine place and simply vanished.
Yet he could swear to the heavens he had never once in his life moved to a better neighborhood. If anything, they had only ever sunk into worse ones.
Why does she think that?
He could not even begin to guess where such a baseless rumor had come from. Come to think of it, hadn’t the auntie been about to say something more?
Promotion, she had said?
He was certain that was the word he had heard.
The deaconess had cut in so abruptly that he never caught the rest. Still, at least the first syllable had reached him intact.
What the hell is going on?
If he dug just a little deeper, some thread of a clue seemed ready to surface. Park Su-hwan wanted nothing more than to sink into those thoughts.
But the stifling heat refused to leave him alone.
“Aagh. I’m dying from this heat. Seriously…”
He grumbled, flapping the front of his T-shirt. Lee Han-gyeol, trailing behind, answered quietly.
“Hyung. You really can’t handle the heat, can you.”
Lee Han-gyeol had finished filling out the forms needed to receive daily necessities from the church. The two of them were now walking home.
“This is straight-up murderous heat.”
He wondered whether the Hell of Boiling Oil felt something like this—the place where they drop sinners into a bubbling cauldron.
“You’re not hot?”
“No. I’m more or less okay. But isn’t it cooler for you now than when you’re wearing the hanbok, hyung? Right now you’re in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt.”
“Dunno. It’s all the same to me.”
To Park Su-hwan every summer day was simply hot. There was no need to rank the degrees of misery.
“Ah. My grandmother says she wants to see you once.”
“Out of nowhere?”
“Not exactly. She’s been saying over and over how grateful she is for all the ways you’ve helped us.”
“You didn’t tell her everything, right?”
“Of course not. I never told a soul that we avoided a major accident thanks to you. You said not to go blabbing about it carelessly.”
“Good. Never tell anyone. Not ever.”
Back when he lacked the ledger, Park Su-hwan had wanted fame at any cost. Fame made it easier to rake in cash with a fraudulent shaman act.
Now that the ledger was in his hands, his thinking had flipped completely.
Thinly. Quietly. For a very long time.
“I’ve got a really tight lip. You can trust me.”
“Hey. Let’s duck over there for a second.”
Park Su-hwan’s gaze had landed on the ice-cream discount shop across the street.
“Huh?”
“I need ice cream. Gotta get some sugar in me too.”
“Ah… Okay.”
“I’m buying, so quit looking so tragic. But you stick to the bar kind, got it? Mine’s a cone, obviously.”
“What do you take me for? I can at least buy one ice cream. I’ll get yours.”
“Then it’s not one, it’s two. You’re not eating?”
“If you’re going to make dumb jokes, at least make them funny. You know that one landed flat.”
Thud.
Right in front of the two of them waiting at the crosswalk, a black foreign car that looked expensive at a glance rolled to a stop.
The window was down; the driver was on his phone, talking with clear irritation to someone on the other end.
“Uh.”
In that instant Park Su-hwan’s body gave a sharp flinch. Lee Han-gyeol tilted his head beside him.
“What is it?”
“My mouth… My mouth is itching.”
Uuuuugh…
The moment he laid eyes on the man, the inside of his mouth began to itch like mad.
“All of a sudden?”
“Yeah.”
Why now, of all times?
Park Su-hwan could no longer pretend he did not understand the sensation. It meant he had to deliver the words of some god he did not even know.
What is it going to make me say this time?
Uuuugh…
The itch grew fiercer by the second. He dreaded the mouth that would start spouting on its own, yet holding it back was impossible.
Tap-tap.
Park Su-hwan carefully approached the car.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes?”
The man, clearly not expecting anyone to speak to him, frowned and looked over.
“Don’t drink today.”
“...?”
“You’re going to cause a huge accident.”