Not Junk, but Charity
After parking the truck in front of the church, I got out from the driver’s seat. A-Young climbed out from the passenger side and looked around. It was the sort of quiet scene that felt like a patch of countryside tucked inside Seoul.
A-Young muttered, “This church is really small. Do you always donate to places like this?”
“The bigger places don’t need help. I only go where it actually means something.”
“...”
“I’ll go greet the pastor first. A-Young, just rest in the car.”
“...Okay.”
I picked up a few boxes and headed into the church.
“Hello, Pastor.”
“!”
Even though it was Sunday evening, the pastor and the others, who had been diligently cleaning, turned toward me. Then they greeted me with bright smiles.
The pastor came over with rubber gloves on.
“Mr. Seon’s here.”
“...”
I shook my head.
“That’s not it.”
“?”
“My family name is Seon-woo. My given name is Taek.”
“Ah! Right, of course…”
The pastor scratched his head awkwardly. The few strands of hair he had left swayed faintly.
I told him, “Anyway, I’m back. I brought some leftover snacks, bread, frozen food, and drinks from the store again.”
“!”
The pastor took off his rubber gloves and said, “Oh dear… Thank you so much. The things you brought last time were enjoyed very much by our congregation. Especially the children-they finished the entire box of snacks in a single day, can you believe it? Haha.”
“...”
I set all the boxes down.
“I’m glad to hear that. I made sure to bring plenty of snacks again this time.”
“Thank you, truly.”
The pastor bowed his head as he took my hand. His palm was damp with detergent, but there was a warmth in it that came from the heart.
At the sound of our conversation, a middle-aged woman who had been cleaning over by the side came over as well. She was a deaconess who handled the church’s day-to-day affairs.
“Pastor! You can’t grab him with hands covered in soap like that!”
“Ah, dear me. Look at me.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, no. That was rude of me.”
The pastor hurriedly apologized and let go. The deaconess looked over the things I’d brought and exclaimed, “Oh my, you really came again! I feel so bad, what am I supposed to do? With prices these days, all of this must have cost several hundred thousand won…”
“Hello, Deaconess.”
“Hello!”
She returned my greeting and went on in a voice full of apology.
“You really don’t need to bring food like this all the time. You don’t have to push yourself. God already knows that Mr. Seon is a kind and earnest person. You must have spent, what, several million won by now.”
The pastor, too, said apologetically, “She’s right. We understand your sincerity very well. Wouldn’t it be better if you kept coming to church from now on? Many of our members also say they’re grateful to you.”
“...”
I shook my head.
“No. That’s all right.”
“But...”
“These were things that were already scheduled to be discarded in half a month. Rather than let them rot away and then slap a disposal stamp on them and throw them out, it means more for them to go to people who actually want to eat them.”
“...”
“That’s enough for me. It’s nothing special. It just goes where it’s meant to go, to the people it’s meant to reach.”
“...”
The pastor asked in confusion, “But if that’s the case, what remains for Mr. Seon?”
“...”
“If no one even knows who gave it to them... then only God would know, wouldn’t He? That isn’t human life.”
“...”
That question...
Could be heard in many ways by a regressor.
It was also a question that had come back to me again and again without ever stopping.
I answered calmly, “It’s enough if the people who need to know, know. As long as this moment has meaning, I can keep going.”
When an awkward silence settled inside the church, the closed front door opened again with care.
The one who came in through it was A-Young.
“S-Sir...? Is there, um, anything I can help with...?”
“!”
“!”
With the evening light behind her, the girl appeared, her blond hair catching the glow.
At the sight of her, the pastor and the deaconess looked at each other at the same time. Then they turned back to me with wide grins. All at once, their smiles turned sly.
There was something slippery and middle-aged about the whole mood.
“Ahh...”
“Ahh...”
“...”
What the hell...?
What was this atmosphere?
The deaconess covered her mouth and scurried over to the gate. Then she took A-Young by the hand and pulled her closer.
“Ohoho! Ahh... so there was someone who understood what a good, kind man Mr. Seon is after all!”
“Ye, yes...?”
“And he even had such a pretty girlfriend, yes yes! My goodness, now I see why Mr. Seon is so devout!”
“W-Whattt—?!”
“My, how lovely! Such a beautiful daughter from a good family! When are the two of you planning to get married? Should our pastor officiate?”
“Whaaat—?!”
Under the baseball cap, A-Young’s face turned bright red. Her wet eyes darted around as she tried to make sense of the situation. In the end, her gaze landed on me.
Please help me...
That was what she seemed to be saying.
I declared, hoping to put an end to the chaos. “She’s not my girlfriend. She just helps out part-time.”
“...”
“...”
“...”
After a moment of silence, the pastor shook his head back and forth.
The deaconess patted A-Young on the back. “I understand. Young men are all like that.”
“??”
A-Young was the only one left confused.
*
The next place after the church was a temple.
This one was closer to downtown. Even though it was late, people were coming and going in a hurry. Smoke from cooking rice drifted gently upward.
A-Young got out in the parking lot and said, “This place has a lot of people?”
“Yes.”
“I thought we were only going to quiet places.”
“This place gets a lot of people, but they give away more than they keep, so they never have anything left.”
“?”
“They hand out free dinner to hikers and nearby residents too.”
“Ah!”
A-Young looked around again.
People of all kinds, mostly homeless people and elderly folks living alone, were sitting here and there around the temple, eating. The scene looked a bit like a free meal center.
“Wow, a lot of people really come here to eat...”
“The chief monk here has an open mind. He doesn’t hesitate to open the temple up to the public.”
“Is ‘open mind’ really what you use for that?”
“Physical openness is openness too.”
“Ugh, your jokes are no fun...”
“...”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I went to the back of the truck and began taking out box after box of candy, snacks, and cereal. A-Young came over beside me and helped sort everything.
“If you’re tired, you can rest.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Then when we get back today, leave work early. I’ll pay your wages as usual.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“...”
A-Young stacked the candy boxes neatly, organizing them so they’d be easier to carry. Then, with an “Unh-cho!” sound, she lifted one.
“Come on!”
“Yes.”
We carried the boxes and walked across the gravel parking lot without speaking.
“...”
“...”
With every step we took, the gravel shifted underfoot and made an irritating sound.
Crackle, crackle.
It was A-Young who finally silenced the gravel’s muttering.
“Did you watch Friday’s broadcast?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think?”
“It was fun.”
“What part, exactly?”
She glanced over at me.
I answered honestly, “The Doda fandom’s unique style of play. And the way it created such a rebellious atmosphere. Even though that PC café event was, at its core, a competition event, that was probably the decisive reason people could join in without feeling pressured.”
“...”
A-Young puffed out her lips and then poked the tip of her baseball cap against the candy box like a woodpecker.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
An awkward silence passed between us.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
“...”
“...”
I added, “And the choice made by the student who seemed to be from Ace’s fandom was impressive as well. Among all those high-performance prizes that the main audience for internet streams would almost certainly want most-gaming PCs, smartphones, graphics cards, and the like... it was impressive that they were able to step a little away from desire for their parents’ sake.”
“...”
I glanced at A-Young.
She’s stopped pecking at it.
Then I went on, “A stay at a five-star hotel in Seoul would be about the same price if you only look at the numbers, but unlike the other prizes, that can be classified as spending for a ‘temporary memory.’ The fact that they boldly turned away from the other temptations for the sake of that memory was impressive from a humanistic point of view.”
“...”
A-Young grumbled, “B-Being Japanese means I don’t know those hard words.”
“...”
I said again, “I think the humanity in Aki-chan’s fandom shone through. Probably a shared trait of fans drawn to her purity.”
“...”
And once more, I said, “The people who like Aki-chan all seem kind.”
“...”
Only then did A-Young smile.
“...Hehe.”
“...”
Fortunately, she didn’t press me any further.
We reached the chief monk’s quarters.
A few small children were playing there. They’d been chasing each other when they saw me arrive, and came running over. Waving their arms like zombies, they shouted, “Whoa! It’s the snack uncle!”
“Give us snacks! Snacks!”
“I want cereal! The energy of a tiger rises—!”
“Candy! Candy!”
“I want gummies—!”
A-Young panicked.
“Huh? Wait, sna-snacks...? Just a second...!”
The one who stopped the chaos was the elderly chief monk. He came rushing over with his face hardened like a dokkaebi’s.
“You little brats! What kind of manners are those with a guest! You should be saying, ‘Thank you!’ to someone who came to bring you something precious—!”
“Eek?!”
“Run!”
The children scattered.
I greeted the chief monk.
“Hello, sir. I’m back again.”
He didn’t answer as warmly as the pastor had. Wordlessly taking the boxes, he muttered with indifference, “Eat first before you go.”
“That’s all right.”
“Bullshit. Just eat. What are you, some kind of ghost? You even brought a date.”
“...”
Before I could even deny it, he disappeared with a grumble.
At the same time, the monks working nearby took the snack boxes from us. They gave wry smiles and asked us to understand.
“Dinner is prepared over there. The chief monk said a precious guest would be coming, so he had everything ready.”
“...”
I looked toward where the chief monk had gone. By then, he was already in the kitchen, portioning out snacks onto plates for the children.
“...”
In the end, A-Young and I ate bibimbap in the quiet temple grounds. More lavish than I’d expected, it was packed with a generous mix of mountain greens and vegetables.
A-Young smiled brightly.
“...It’s really good.”
“I see.”
“And it was fun.”
“Was it.”
“Yep.”
Slurp.
We drank our soybean paste soup in silence.
Everything about it tasted more surprising than I’d expected.