Chapter 8: On 92nd Street in New York (4)
Chapter 8: On 92nd Street in New York (4)
That night after dinner, Lucas bitterly told Jo Minjoon his story. It was unusually candid for something shared with someone he had only just met, but perhaps that made it easier. They had known each other for barely a day, and there was little history between them to complicate the telling.
Lucas said he was the CEO of a jelly factory. The word factory could easily bring to mind cheap, low-quality food, but Lucas had spent years trying to break away from that prejudice. His efforts had paid off, and the factory had achieved fairly strong sales.
The downfall of the otherwise successful business had begun one morning when an American consumer-safety programme targeted Lucas’s factory. The programme aired footage of a piece of jelly containing dirt—something that could never have entered the product during the factory’s refining process—and claimed that it had come from Lucas’s factory. The fabricated report became widely watched, receiving ratings of more than ten per cent.
Lucas immediately sued the broadcaster, but the trial dragged on for so long that by then the factory was already collapsing. Running a jelly factory had been Lucas’s dream since childhood, and after everything fell apart, he lost the will to do anything. In the end, he became a vagabond and wandered from place to place.
He spent nearly three months living that way. After those three months, he eventually returned to 92nd Street, but even then, Lucas could not bring himself to enter his own house.
That was when Jo Minjoon had handed him the five-dollar bill.
As Lucas held that bill, countless thoughts had gone through his mind: the humiliation of looking so shabby that a stranger mistook him for a beggar, and the strange feeling that came from receiving five dollars out of pure goodwill. It was difficult to describe exactly what he had felt, but somehow, that small gesture had been enough to push him into returning home.
However…
“Jessie won’t forgive me,” Lucas muttered bitterly.
Jane had gone upstairs to comfort Jessie, but all that came from above were the sounds of Jessie crying and Jane’s irritated voice.
Lucas sighed.
“I’m sorry. I brought a guest into this mess.”
“…She’s still young. Once you stop feeling so guilty, I think things can go back to how they were.”
“I wonder if that’s really possible. I left everything behind and ran away. I had a wife and a child, but all I could think about was my own suffering. I’m a terrible father.”
“No father in the world can be a perfect Superman.”
(Translator’s Note: Superman — An American comic-book superhero created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster. Superman first appeared in Action Comics #1 in 1938. His name is commonly used figuratively for a person expected to be exceptionally strong, dependable, or capable.)
Lucas smiled faintly at that.
“But every child wishes their father were Superman.”
Jo Minjoon could not think of anything to say in response. Lucas was too deeply weighed down for ordinary consolation to reach him.
The conversation ended there. Lucas trudged off towards his bedroom, and Jo Minjoon returned to the room he had been given.
His thoughts were a mess.
Lucas’s problems belonged to Lucas, and the problems in this house belonged to this family. Jo Minjoon knew that much. It was far too personal and sensitive for him, a stranger, to interfere.
His own problem was what came next.
First, he needed to go downtown. He had to get his lost cards reissued, and he also needed to find a proper place to stay instead of continuing to rely on Lucas’s family.
“…Should I ask if they can take me there?”
There were few things more difficult than asking for a favour you already felt guilty about requesting. That was especially true when the family in question was dealing with something like this.
Jo Minjoon sighed and pulled the blanket over himself.
Then he heard the door to the next room creak open.
That room belonged to Jessie.
Where is she going this late at night? Is she running away?
Worried by the thought, Jo Minjoon quietly opened his own door and stepped out.
Jessie was creeping down the hallway so carefully that her footsteps were almost completely silent. She was heading towards the kitchen.
When Jo Minjoon saw her eating the cold macaroni and cheese, he sighed inwardly.
Right. She’s at the age when she should always be hungry. Especially after skipping dinner.
He hesitated for a moment, then went downstairs.
Jessie startled and turned towards him. Jo Minjoon gave her an awkward smile, while wariness immediately filled her eyes.
“Hello.”
“…What is it?”
“Are you hungry? Should I make you someth— Ah, right. It’s not my kitchen.”
He could not simply start using someone else’s kitchen however he pleased.
Jessie, on the other hand, could.
“Pour in a little water and some vinegar, then heat it again. It should be edible after that.”
“…”
Jessie did not answer, but she followed his instructions. She poured water and vinegar into a pot, then put it over the heat. The vinegar would help restore at least a little of the macaroni’s elasticity, although too much would leave behind an unpleasant sourness, so only a small amount was needed.
After crudely reviving the macaroni, Jessie began eating her late-night meal in silence.
Jo Minjoon simply watched her.
Eventually, Jessie was the one who spoke first.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I heard what happened with your father.”
“…I’m trying to leave it alone, so stop.”
Jessie answered sharply, her tone openly rebellious.
Jo Minjoon did not mind.
After all, until two years ago in his previous life, he had been a teacher. He was fairly accustomed to dealing with adolescents going through puberty.
He shook his head.
“I’m not planning to lecture you. I just wanted to congratulate you.”
“Congratulate me for what?”
“For your father coming back. Isn’t that something worth celebrating?”
Jessie did not answer.
Her long eyelashes lowered as she looked down.
That alone was enough for Jo Minjoon to understand.
Despite how she acted, she did not truly resent her father. If anything, she had missed him badly.
“I’ll be leaving soon.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“It means you can tell me everything without being embarrassed. You’re happy your father came back. You have to be. When there’s something you want to eat but you can’t have it, you keep thinking about it, right? This is the same.”
“…Then what?”
“What?”
“What am I supposed to do, then?”
Her voice trembled with tears.
Jessie bit her lip, clearly unwilling to show weakness, but she continued speaking even as she cried.
“Whenever I see Dad, I get angry. He used to be proud and cool. Why did someone like that… Why did he become so small? Why did he become so miserable?”
“…It’s not that he became smaller. You simply grew old enough to notice how small his back really was.”
How many fathers in the world truly had broad backs forever?
Every father feared the day when his children would realise that his back was not as large as they had once imagined. But unless he remained impossibly strong and healthy forever, that day would eventually come. Sooner or later, children came to understand that their father’s back was smaller than they remembered.
Jo Minjoon spoke again.
“I said I wouldn’t lecture you, so instead I’ll ask you a question. Do you want to hug your father’s small back, or do you want to stop looking at it?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to look at it.”
“Then that means you want to hug him.”
Jo Minjoon smiled.
Jessie turned her head away, her eyes red.
That was enough.
At least she was not the kind of child who knew how to hate her parents completely. In fact, that was precisely why, after all her anger and rebellion, she had only retreated to her room upstairs. If she truly had no attachment to her parents, she might have run straight out of the house.
Jo Minjoon spoke without pressing her further.
“I’ll cheer you on. Want to try something?”
“…Like what?”
“With the thing your dad loves most.”
For example, jelly.