Monday Worship #3
Yu Da-hee and Yang Ju-hui were waiting for me in front of my house. But their behavior was a little strange.
“What are you doing?”
It was oddly unsettling to see Yu Da-hee kneeling on the asphalt. What kind of bizarre act was this now?
Da-hee said, “A cat.”
“A cat?”
I bent down to look too, and sure enough, a black cat was crouched under the car. It was one I often saw wandering around the neighborhood. There was an auntie in our area who wrapped cat food in plastic bags and left it out, so these strays were everywhere. They’d tear open trash bags and yowl all night long. It was seriously noisy as hell.
“Meow meow. Come here.”
Swish swish swish—.
Yu Da-hee reached her hand toward the cat. A high school girl imitating a cat. I thought it was a rare sight and was mentally filing it away in my internal memory when Yang Ju-hui, who had looked somewhat bored, suddenly stomped her foot.
“Waaah!”
Thudathudathudathuda—!
The black cat bolted at the loud noise from Yang Ju-hui.
“Ah. It ran away…”
“Oh, shit.”
Apparently Yang Ju-hui wasn’t very fond of cats. I’d assumed most high school girls liked cute things and enjoyed taking pictures, but it seemed my knowledge was too narrow.
Yang Ju-hui said, “The dinner appointment is at six. Hurry up and change. Don’t dawdle.”
Right. I’d come home to change clothes and drop off my stuff before the six o’clock meeting.
I went upstairs, changed, and came back out. Then the three of us headed to the meeting place together.
“Hey kids, hi! Welcome!”
Joo Chan-mi noona had her hair tied back, wearing jeans and a white shirt. She was twenty-five, had just graduated from college this year, and was about to start working. Her face wasn’t heavily made up, but she was reasonably pretty and had an extremely friendly personality. She was the type of woman who set the hearts of the church men on fire. She was also the noona I’d had a one-day crush on.
“Aigoo, you’re all such babies. Look at those school uniforms.”
Joo Chan-mi noona was visibly impressed and delighted as she looked at the Yeongji High uniforms worn by Yang Ju-hui and Yu Da-hee. Maybe it reminded her of her own high school days. Every woman had once been a high school girl. Joo Chan-mi noona must have been one too. It was fun to imagine what kind of high school girl she’d been. Outgoing… maybe the outgoing Jeong So-jin type? Though calling it the “Jeong So-jin type” somehow felt like an insult. To people who didn’t know her, Jeong So-jin was an honor student and a sociable friend, so… yeah.
Anyway!
We each ordered a pasta. Thirteen thousand won per bowl. I wasn’t sure if that was cheap or expensive, but Joo Chan-mi noona said she was treating.
“It’s on me.”
Memory of a Poor Man
To be honest, the only pasta I’d ever eaten was three-minute spaghetti or the tomato spaghetti from school lunches. Being told to eat pasta with women in a place like this left me completely lost. And unlike what I’d expected—each person getting their own bowl—the meal involved ordering different kinds of pasta, placing them in the center, and sharing everything! Having attended an all-boys middle school, this was an incredibly unfamiliar way of eating, and it felt very uncomfortable. Did women always eat like this? When guys ordered black bean noodles, everyone got their own bowl and just dug in. Above all, I wasn’t used to using a fork. Yet the women twirled their forks like they’d known how since birth, skillfully wrapping the pasta. Well, not everyone.
“…Ugh. This is frustrating.”
Yang Ju-hui kept trying to twirl the pasta with her fork but failed miserably, making a huge mess. Since her skill level was about the same as mine, I felt a surge of inner camaraderie. So she hadn’t eaten pasta much either. As expected, for us commoners, cup ramen suited us better than pasta.
On the other hand, Yu Da-hee ate with incredible elegance. She didn’t make a single sound with her utensils. Rich kids really were different.
“Your name’s Da-hee, right?”
Around the time the meal was proceeding smoothly, Joo Chan-mi noona showed interest in Yu Da-hee.
“You’re incredibly pretty. You must be popular in class, right? I bet you get a ton of confessions.”
“I’m pretty average, I think.”
What did it even mean to be “average” in popularity? That was a realm I couldn’t understand.
After that came casual chatter that felt like a background check—how’s studying, what are the teachers like, that sort of thing. The women would occasionally burst into laughter and build rapport, while I felt like a lone island cast adrift. The seat was seriously uncomfortable.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
I stepped outside, wanting some fresh air. With a moment to spare, I checked my phone and saw Jeong Seok had sent messages.
「Jungle Jeong Seok: What the hell is this.」
「Jungle Jeong Seok: Looks like some kind of code. Morse code?」
「Jungle Jeong Seok: When I translated it into Korean, it says ‘Beware of the Sky.’」
Beware of the sky?
The phrase “Beware of the Sky” written on the business card of Kang Ba-da, my mother’s old classmate. What on earth did it mean? Sky. Sky, huh…
“Maybe it means beware of Kang Haneul?”
That was the best deduction I could come up with. After taking care of my business and preparing to head back inside, Yang Ju-hui came out.
“What? You came out to smoke?”
“What are you talking about? I quit, remember? Running makes me short of breath. We’re done eating, so we decided to leave. She’s probably paying the bill inside.”
The bill! More importantly, Yang Ju-hui had quit smoking! She wasn’t bothering her friends or smoking anymore—what was even left for the delinquent Yang Ju-hui? Her human characteristics were getting too faint.
While I was thinking that, Yang Ju-hui glanced around and said to me, “You. Be careful around Chan-mi noona.”
“Be careful? About what?”
“Didn’t you notice? During dinner, noona was only looking at you.”
Whoosh—.
It was incredibly shocking and somehow embarrassing. Only looking at me? Maybe she liked me. That thought naturally crossed my mind, but Yang Ju-hui wasn’t finished.
“Do you know what Chan-mi noona’s nickname is at church? She’s called the Younger Guy Killer.”
“Younger Guy Killer?”
“Yeah! All the boyfriends she’s dated have been younger, and from what I know, the number is over seven.”
Yang Ju-hui spoke as if revealing a deeply guarded secret, but I didn’t see why it was that special. A twenty-five-year-old woman having dated seven guys seemed pretty normal, didn’t it? These days people start dating in high school, so seven by twenty-five was basically one per year. I thought it was fairly average. Of course, the fact that they were all younger was a bit interesting, but everyone had their preferences.
“Hey. This isn’t the time to be saying that. All the guys Chan-mi noona dated were CCs! Church Couples! And now none of them answer their phones or come to church anymore.”
“Hmm…”
Dating seven church couples was pretty unusual. Usually when couples formed at church… if it went well and led to marriage, fine, but if they broke up, it turned into absolute hell. There was no way to end it amicably, so both sides would fight like crazy, people who were close to them would split into factions or become awkward with each other… and eventually, one of them—guy or girl—would stop coming to church. That’s why dating within the church wasn’t exactly encouraged. To do it seven times? And to make every single guy go completely dark? That was impressive, if nothing else.
We arrived at Yeonggwang Church. Churches that held services on Monday weren’t very common. The reason was simple: the people who worked hardest on other people’s day off—Sunday—treated Monday like their own day off. So a church holding services on Monday was usually one overflowing with passion.
When we entered the chapel, there were quite a few people. About twenty. Everyone was smiling, greeting each other, and chatting.
“Oh my, we have students here?”
“Look at those uniforms.”
Those of us in school uniforms naturally stood out. The deacons and deaconesses smiled at us with satisfaction. Finally, at seven o’clock in the evening, a young man who appeared to be the praise leader appeared and took the microphone.
“Then let us begin the Monday service with praise. First, everyone please stand and offer joyful praise before the Lord.”
Thump thump thump—.
A hymn began, accompanied by drums and a full band.
“By the blood of the Savior’s cross—”
Everyone raised their voices and sang. The only ones standing there blankly were me, Yang Ju-hui, and Yu Da-hee. In my case, I was observing the surroundings. In Yang Ju-hui’s case, it was probably due to subtle adolescent rebellion. In Yu Da-hee’s case, the atmosphere seemed to make her uncomfortable.
What made it even more awkward came after the praise. Click, clack—.
All the lights illuminating the chapel went out. The room became so dark you couldn’t see an inch in front of you. In that darkness, the praise leader said,
“At this time, let us shout ‘Lord’ three times and pray aloud together.”
Lord—.
Lord—.
Looord—.
Everyone called out to the Lord in loud voices, and the prayer began.
“Abba, Father, today once again—”
“Arrrgh—garrgh—”
“Forgive this sinner—!”
“Abararararai, eskararararai!”
Group prayer. All sorts of voices tangled together in chaotic shouting. There were still churches that prayed this passionately with tongues? As the son of a pastor, I was somewhat used to it… but it seemed not everyone was.
Swish—.
Someone grabbed my side in the darkness.
“…Yeong-won. I’m scared.”
It was Yu Da-hee. Unfamiliar with church culture, the frenzied and blind faith of this group prayer must have sounded like the screams of hell to her. Making inhuman sounds in all kinds of tongues would naturally feel strange and frightening.
—These fucking idiots are putting on a real show. A real show.
That was when it happened. Amid the hellish screams of group prayer and tongues, someone’s voice rang out clearly. And at that exact moment, the roaring prayers that had been shaking the chapel cut off all at once. The perfectly timed silence was spine-chilling.
Click—.
The lights in the chapel began to turn back on. Before the platform now stood not the praise leader, but a rather large man holding the microphone. It was Pastor Cheon Ae-soo, the founding and senior pastor of Yeonggwang Church.
“Brothers and sisters. It seems a demon holding authority in the air has slipped into this place. In the name of the Lord, I command it. Enemy demon Satan, rise from your seat and leave!”
What the… what the hell was this situation? Leave? This was extremely unfamiliar and bizarre even to me. I looked around in confusion, but the surroundings were deathly quiet.
Swish—.
Pastor Cheon Ae-soo stepped down from the platform.
“These demons hide among people. They hide among people, making their bodies sick. Making them disobedient. Making them unbelieving— Making them sin!!!”
Hweeeeee—.
Pastor Cheon Ae-soo began to whistle. He whistled in a steady tone as he slowly circled the inside of the chapel.
Hweeeeeeeeeee—.
It was an incredibly impressive lung capacity. How could he whistle without ever breaking?
While I was thinking that, Pastor Cheon Ae-soo’s steps paused briefly in front of me.
Hweeeeeeee—.
“……”
What the hell was this? I was starting to feel tense when…
“You son of a bitch! Jesus or whatever, just give me my money back! Before I burn this whole church down and kill everyone! Pastor or whatever you are, give me my money! My money! My mooooney!”
Someone screamed at the top of their lungs. When I turned my head, a shabby-looking man in work clothes was glaring at Pastor Cheon Ae-soo with bloodshot eyes. Someone recognized him.
“Isn’t that… isn’t that Chan-woo’s dad? Deacon Kwon’s husband!”
“Oh dear, it is! It really is!”
The man limped toward Pastor Cheon Ae-soo, as if one of his legs was bad. Then, reeking of alcohol, he snarled like a starving mad dog.
“The insurance money I got when my leg became crippled! The disability benefits I received after getting my disability grade! My wife gave all of it to this church! I need that money for surgery! Give me the money! Money! My money!!!”
So he was the husband demanding back the money his wife had donated to the church. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence… but it wasn’t unheard of either. Pastors often received death threats like this during their careers. The atmosphere felt like it could explode at any moment. I was wondering if we should call the police when Pastor Cheon Ae-soo spoke.
“This man is possessed by a demon. From now on, I will drive out the demon dwelling inside this man. Lock all the doors and play the PowerPoint starting from John chapter 1.”