Sparkling Golden Light
“Waaaah!”
“……Yeah, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
I forced my eyes open and lifted the baby into my arms.
Waking every two or three hours to feed Luca, morning always arrived before I knew it.
I put the bottle to his mouth and started nodding off again, only for Luca’s small, warm hand to brush lightly against mine.
My eyes snapped open. The baby’s big, round eyes were looking right at me.
“……Yeah. Daddy’s here.”
Even before he finished the bottle, his eyes kept drifting shut again. It was so endearing I almost smiled.
I laid Luca back in the bed and stretched until my joints popped. The moment the baby fell asleep, I had to scramble to eat, wash up, and get the housework done.
I was working through my chores quietly but quickly when a knock sounded at the front door.
“Who is it?”
No answer. Figuring it was a delivery, I opened the door—and sure enough, a package was waiting.
It was the tool set I’d ordered with points just the day before. Goods bought with points really did arrive fast.
The lumber hadn’t come yet, so I had nowhere to use them right away, but it had been so long since I’d bought something new that just having them felt satisfying.
Assorted screwdriver bits, a hammer, pliers, a spanner, a woodworking handsaw, a measuring tape, a flashlight, wrenches, a utility knife, scissors—on and on.
There was a real pleasure in taking out each gleaming tool and turning it over in my hands.
“……Hmm.”
After fiddling with them for a long while, I got embarrassed with myself and let out a silly little laugh. Honestly, I’d half expected some mystical feeling to wash over me the moment I held a tool.
Artisan’s Mastery probably just meant that buying good equipment paid for itself. Gear advantage was a real thing, after all.
Hoping the lumber would show up soon, I carefully stored my new tools in the empty room I’d never once used.
Two more days slipped by like that.
Since it was a custom order, the lumber was taking its time. The baby stroller, though, had already arrived.
It was the kind that faced the parent, with a cover you could close to shut out the outside air.
“How is it? Comfy?”
I laid an extra soft blanket inside and set Luca down. He tilted his head this way and that, as if inspecting his new ride.
Adorable.
I pushed the stroller over to the sunniest spot in the gloomy apartment to take a photo, and my phone buzzed with a text.
The sender was Tony, one of the two building managers.
I checked the time. It was already almost two. He sure didn’t waste time asking.
Still, the stroller had just arrived, and I was grateful the work had come through relatively quickly. I texted back right away that I could make it.
I pushed the stroller over to the management office, and Tony pointed at it with his chin without so much as a hello, his tone blunt.
“What’s that.”
What do you think it is. Are you seriously asking?
“Like I said in the text, it’s my kid. As long as he’s not hungry he barely cries—he’s easy. Won’t be a problem on the job.”
Tony snorted.
“So that’s why you vanished for so long and then suddenly showed up.”
The real reason I hadn’t come was the miserable working conditions, but I didn’t bother correcting him. Talking with these people only ever left me in a worse mood.
Tony, of course, wasn’t about to pass up a chance to sneer.
“Got a kid, so now you need money, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Should’ve thought ahead and saved up a little before having one.”
“I know, right.”
“Kid’s mom run off on you?”
This time I just stared at him without answering. It wasn’t a question worth answering, or worth arguing about. And I had no interest in wasting more energy on someone who meant nothing to me.
“Hmph.”
Standing there with a blank face must have bored him, because Tony pulled two repair slips from his clipboard and held them out.
“Building 3, unit 103—swap out the entrance sensor light. Unit 201 wants a new screen door. The screen’s leaning against the hallway wall; just swap it with the one on the small bedroom window. You know where the spare sensor lights and tools are in the supply room, right?”
Of all places, it had to be Building 3, unit 103.
Two old women lived there—women who looked like they’d been in the apartment since the day it was built—and they were racists down to the bone.
I took the slips without a word, went to the supply room, and gathered what I needed: a spare sensor light, a folding ladder, and a tool bag with a few screwdrivers. Then I headed for the building.
For a second I wondered if I should have brought my own tools.
I fastened the stroller cover snug, tucked the ladder under one arm, and cut across the complex.
Standing in front of unit 103, I took a breath and knocked.
Knock, knock.
I heard movement on the other side of the door, but it didn’t open. No answer, either.
“…….”
I swallowed a sigh and knocked again.
Knock knock. Knock knock.
Still nothing. I raised my voice so the neighbors would hear too.
“I’m here to replace the sensor light. If you don’t do it now, tomorrow’s the weekend, so it’ll get pushed to next week.”
Only then did grumbling start up inside, and the door finally opened.
“…….”
The grandmother who’d clearly been about to say something looked sidelong at the stroller and spoke instead.
“How do you bring a baby to work?”
I pressed down the door stopper and answered simply.
“I’m only changing the entrance sensor light, so the baby won’t be going inside the house anyway.”
“So you want me to leave the front door open when it’s this cold?”
“You’ve always left the door open every time I come over because you say I smell.”
“…….”
She had nothing for that. Denying it would have meant admitting I didn’t smell—and that clearly didn’t sit well with her.
I stepped right in, unfolded the ladder, and reached up toward the light.
“Three minutes. Just wait a moment.”
Working free the stiff, rusted screws and swapping out the old sensor light really didn’t take long at all.
When I finished, I held out the notepad for a signature—and Luca started fussing.
I yanked off the work gloves, stuffed them in my back pocket, and flipped up the cover.
“Yeah. Daddy’s here. Don’t cry.”
I brought my face close and met his eyes. Thankfully, Luca stopped fussing, gave a little smile, and flailed his arms and legs.
I’d been worried he’d start wailing if he was uncomfortable. Relief washed through me.
The conversation between the two grandmothers behind me, though, was something else.
“I guess Asians can have white babies these days?”
“No way. Look at him—he’s probably just fostering for the subsidy money.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police, then?”
“…….”
What kind of mind even produced the idea that this was a situation for the police? I couldn’t understand it. They just wanted to run their mouths about anything.
I hadn’t expected a thank-you, but still. These people had a real talent for souring someone’s mood.
Awful people.
Heat rose in my chest, but I smoothed my expression, turned, and held out my hand.
“If you’ve signed, give me the slip.”
The grandmother who’d signed handed over the paper with a look of deep dissatisfaction. The second I took it, I grabbed the ladder and left.
I rode the elevator up to the second floor, shooed away the kids kicking at the screen door leaning outside unit 201, and knocked.
A Pakistani family lived here.
“Baby?”
The couple skipped the greeting and pointed at the stroller too, but once I explained, they just nodded and let us in without any fuss.
Swapping the screen door took about five minutes.
I stored the old screen in the hallway closet, got the repair slip signed, and was on my way out when the husband asked if my wife had run off.
I answered with a slight shake of the head and left the apartment. In this neighborhood, that counted as decent.
I went back to Tony, picked up a few more repair slips, and kept moving.
At Building 2, unit 101, I replaced a faucet. At the unit next door, I tore out the bathroom fan and installed a new one.
Whenever someone tried to pick a fight the way the grandmothers in 103 had, I ignored them just enough. Luckily, most people held back from saying anything truly vicious when there was a baby around.
It had been a while since I’d done this kind of work, and as the hours wore on my shoulders and lower back started to ache. The jobs themselves were one thing, but I’d also been hustling the stroller between buildings with a ladder under my arm whenever I needed it. No wonder.
“…….”
There seemed to be an unusually heavy load of work today. Tony and Andy had almost certainly been putting everything off because the weather had turned cold, telling residents they were too busy while they dragged their feet day after day.
“Haa.”
A sigh slipped out on its own—but if I thought about it, their laziness was the reason work came my way at all. Hard to complain about that.
Still, the fact that they collected a fixed salary for it left a bad taste in my mouth.
Finishing faster didn’t mean more pay, though, so I got each job done quickly, then stopped by home in short bursts to check on the baby, feed him, and change his diaper.
Before heading back to the management office for the last time, I washed my face with cold water to wake up my heavy body and heavier mind.
Wiping the dripping water and looking in the mirror, I could feel how my face had set into its usual hard lines—no matter how hard I tried not to care about the harsh people in this neighborhood.
“…….”
Right. This was what my everyday life here had always been like.
Among the residents, not a single person looked at the stroller with the kind of genuinely warm eyes Maria did. Everyone here was just struggling too hard, with no room left over for kindness.
I’d wrapped Luca tight in a blanket and closed the cover, but I still worried those feelings might somehow reach him.
As if he’d read my mind, the baby babbled when I came close.
“Ung……. Ah……!”
I leaned in, met his eyes, and answered his babbling right back.
“Yeah, that’s right. My baby’s so good. Didn’t even cry.”
“Ung……!”
I smiled. There was no way he understood me yet, but it felt exactly like he was answering.
In this gray neighborhood, I gently stroked the cheek of the one child who shone with golden light.
His warm little warmth melted the fatigue away and put strength back into me.
Daddy’ll make money fast. Then we’ll move somewhere better—just you and me.