Fourth Ghost Story - Mom (4)
Hurrying home, I immediately called Gyeong-won.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Gyeong-won. You done with cram school?"
"Nah, I'm on break right now, that's why I picked up. What's up?"
"Got a question. You got time?"
"I can only talk for like five minutes. Spill it."
"Any ghost stories about something in the house pretending to be your mom?"
"Ghost story?"
Gyeong-won paused for a beat, like he couldn't believe it, then asked,
"You're asking about that right now? Like, immediately?"
"Yeah, sorry. If anything comes to mind, tell me straight away?"
"You really ask the weirdest shit..."
"Any guesses?"
"Of course."
He acted a bit smug sometimes, but the guy always answered straight.
"You're the Ghost Story Club president now, right? I like the attitude."
Gyeong-won seemed satisfied with himself, then rattled off the info fast.
"Stories about ghosts impersonating family are a dime a dozen, but ignoring personal experiences, the most famous one circulating as a proper ghost story is probably the Mom Dilemma."
"Mom Dilemma?"
"Urban legend that came from America. Listen up."
One night, I was studying on the second floor. Suddenly, I heard my mom calling from the kitchen on the first floor, telling me to come down.
As I headed down the stairs toward her, I heard a frantic shout from my parents' room on the second floor.
"Don't go to the kitchen! Mom heard that sound from the room too!"
Which mom should I believe?
"Creepy, right?"
···So that's the Mom Dilemma.
"A dilemma means no right answer, yeah?"
"Exactly."
Damn.
But no way. The last ghost story, and the one before—same deal. These things wield insane power once their conditions are met, but the solution was always baked into the story itself.
"You said it's famous. Any theories people have come up with?"
"Theories, huh... "
A bell rang over the phone. Break time over, probably.
"There are a few. Like deducing based on who called first, or figuring it out from their locations."
They might help once I hear 'em, but right now, they don't fit my situation.
"Any others? Other clues in the story to spot the real mom?"
"I gotta go to class now."
"Sorry, really sorry. I'll buy you something tasty tomorrow."
"Not really into food, but... "
Gyeong-won sighed.
"Jokingly, some say throw out stuff that'd make a mom freak—like 'report card's out' or 'I'm pregnant'—to see who reacts big."
Something clicked in my head. That's it. Dig from here, and we'll get somewhere.
"Gotta go for real now. Ask later—"
"Got it, thanks! Gyeong-won, seriously, thanks! Study hard!"
"Yeah. Good luck."
Click.
Sunset had faded to evening, and our apartment complex entrance loomed ahead. I mulled it over.
This Mom Dilemma. The key isn't figuring out which mom's real. Why's the first-floor mom in the kitchen at midnight? Why'd the second-floor one wait till I was heading down? Digging those just makes both suspicious. That's the trap.
The real fix? Force the fake one to reveal itself.
The story's about someone mimicking mom. Flip it—make it impossible to mimic.
How?
I racked my brain as I passed the entrance. Our building came into view. Someone stood on the balcony.
How to make it unable to mimic?
Denying it endlessly hadn't worked. What way? Trigger a reaction to identify...
Wait.
I hurried to our building entrance. Dad stood there, dazed by the door.
I snuck up quietly. "Dad."
Dad whipped around, startled, then sighed in relief seeing me. "Joon-ah. You're home. You scared me, kid."
"There's something weird in the house, Dad."
His eyes went wide again. "···What kinda weird?"
"Something keeps pretending to be Mom."
Dad swallowed hard and nodded fast. "I saw it too, Joon-ah. Me too."
"Let's handle it between us before Mom gets back. I got a good plan."
"Good plan? What is it?"
I hesitated. Explaining'd just confuse him... Have to show him face-to-face with the fake. He's sharp—he'll get it instantly.
"Let's go up first. I'll explain inside."
"Right, got it. Two strong guys like us can handle it."
Dad nodded and followed. This time, I led.
Elevator up, door dread hit. Will this work?
I glanced at Dad—tense too. I steeled myself, faced front. Have to try.
Dad's tough stand before death flashed back.
You punk! Get outta someone else's house!
How scared was he really?
I clenched my fist. It'll work. Gotta believe and push.
Elevator dinged open. I marched to our door, resolve firm, and mashed the doorbell.
Ding-dong~
Silence. I rang again.
Ding-dong~
React, please... Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~
I jammed my finger down repeatedly.
Finally—Click. Intercom picked up.
I murmured quietly, "Open the door, you hag."
Dad's eyes bulged at me. Silence on the other end, but they heard.
I repeated, deadpan, "Open the door, you hag."
Still quiet. I mashed the bell angrily.
Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~
"I know you're in there—open up!!!!! Only you'd leave your 70-year-old mother-in-law outside!!!!!!!"
My roar and endless ringing unlocked the door.
Beep-boop~
I flung it open and stormed in. Dad followed, stunned but quick.
The Mom Dilemma never needed distinguishing real from fake to begin with. Just corner the fake till it can't mimic anymore.
Do that by hurling mom-bait lines that'll make her lose it. That's my answer.
Let's see who wins, fucker.
I desperately recalled TV morning drama mother-in-law lines in my head.
Full night. House pitch black, only the shoe cabinet sensor light glowing orange, dimly lighting the living room.
Mom poked her head from the kitchen corner, glaring.
She jaw-dropped complaints. "Can't even study, and you strut in like that?"
"Hey hag, teach me the door code already."
I fired back. "Hate ringing like it's someone else's place. Gimme the code."
Mom's eyes darted, then more gripes. "What kinda kid sucks at everything? Like—"
"My own house, and that's wrong?"
I cut her off, snapping. She stared. I glared harder, refusing to lose momentum.
Silent standoff. Mid-stare-down, she averted her eyes, pupils rolling like a frog's.
"...Last time too, you said you'd do it and didn't. No willpower, no—"
"My own house, and that's wrong!!!!!!!!! Door code!! Can't learn it, huh!!!!!!?"
Round two. We glared forever till she rolled her eyes slow. "M-Mother-in-law... wh-what..."
"I birthed your husband!! His name on it makes it my house, whose else!!!! What kinda kid thinks so small!!!!!!!"
She's hooked!
"Daughter-in-law, come greet and open the damn door quick. Hate me coming? That it?"
"N-No... not th-that... nooo..."
"No my ass, you bitch! Pisses you off I show up, right!!"
"N-Nooo... m-misunderstanding..."
I surrendered to adrenaline, one with the drama hag, yelling louder.
"You bitch, you hit the jackpot!!! Know what day it is and you're holed up!!!!!! What kinda kid are you!!!!!!"
"Wh-what... d-day... m-mother...?"
The mom-mimic lost all fight, just rolling eyes.
"Asking now!!!! What kinda kid are you!!!! Your family teach you that???? Thought you were decent till now!!!!"
"How's the level difference this bad, really!!!!!!! What now!! What!!!"
She stopped rolling, stared, asked, "So what day is it, Mother-in-law?"
Fuck. What day? Immersed in the act, I blurted without thinking.
"···Talking back now? What kinda—"
"So. What. Day. Is. It."
She drawled slow. My mind blanked. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Birthday...? Flow's broken, damn. Next line blank. So close, fuck...
Then—
"You!!!! Today you promised to pick up our kid from daycare!!!!!!!!!"
Dad screeched in falsetto, mimicking a woman.
"Sister-in-law got amnesia!? Or too hard watching one more kid, so you ditched!?"
I gaped at him. He met my eyes seriously, nodded firm.
The fake froze, then rolled eyes slow. "B-Brother-in-law... h-how that request... k-kid-raising... so hard..."
"Hey!!! You nuts? Our kid bawled at daycare cuz of you!!!!!!"
Dad's face red, falsetto roaring.
"Mental damage to me and our kid!! 500,000 won now!!!!!"
"B-Brother-in-law, wh-what..."
Eye-rolls sped up. Flow back to us!
"Why me for the kid... c-coulda hired... sitter..."
"Sitter? You lost it? Entrust a kid to strangers!?"
"Then why not me..."
"You a stranger, sister-in-law? Ignore when hard, pick easy stuff? Ancestor rites too! Tch, you're a riot."
"B-Brother-in-law... s-stop..."
"500,000 won! Me and kid's mental damage! Pay or get out!"
"Outta the house... why..."
I jumped in. "Why!? It's our son's house, ours, you bitch!!"
"M-Mother... wh-what..."
"Out, bitch! Can't stand looking!"
"N-No... won't go, Mother..."
Dad seized the gap, falsetto bellowing. "Sister-in-law!!! For real!? Pay 500k or back to your folks!!!!"
"Yeah bitch! 'Folks, folks' song, huh!! Thrilled inside, right? I know!!"
The ghost's eyes full frog-mode, rolling wild, lost.
Dad and I synced, bellowing.
"Back to your folks, you bitch!!!!!!!!!!"
"Back to your folks!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Ughk, ugh... ughghk..."
Apartment shook as we roared louder.
"Back to your folks!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Back to your folks!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Ughk, ughghghk..."
She jaw-unhinged.
"Back to your folks aaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!"
"Back to your folks aaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!"
"Grrk, gyaaak! Gyaaaaak!"
"Back to your folks aaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Back to your folks aaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Ughk. Ughk. Ughghk...!"
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