Repairing the Abandoned House — 4
"The cat seems a bit sick. Is there an animal clinic in town?"
The cat demon was as lively as ever, but the white cat serving as its vessel was wilting. It had grown gaunt, with pus crusted around its eyes—it clearly needed treatment right away.
"You'd have to go to the county seat for an animal clinic. There's a livestock hospital in town, though."
"A livestock hospital?"
"It specializes in cattle, pigs, chickens—that sort of thing. The doctor there is remarkably skilled. When our cow was carrying twins and nearly died, he pulled both calves out safe and sound."
So a large-animal specialist, apparently. A man who assisted with livestock pregnancies and delivered calves with the practiced ease of pulling a radish from the earth.
"Wait a moment."
The village head rummaged through his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "I wonder if he'd look at a cat, too. Let me ask."
He pressed the call button, and after a moment, someone picked up. The village head bowed politely toward the empty air.
"Yes, Doctor. Have you eaten? Oh my, Jeong-ho's cow is calving today? Will you be opening the clinic after that's done? Haha. We have a sick cat in our village. Yes? You're saying a cat's been wandering around our village too?"
Apparently the livestock veterinarian and the village head were old friends, because the chatter went on for quite a while. A farmer named Kim Jeong-ho's cow had blown past her due date without delivering her calf, so the doctor was on a house call right now.
Whether he was wearing earphones or not, the call kept going even as he drove, stretching all the way to a report of how the village head's twin calves had happily gobbled up their feed that morning.
"Haha. You've arrived already? Don't feed that cat of ours, Doctor—I just hope Jeong-ho's cow delivers safely. Yes, yes, go on in."
At last the village head hung up and looked at me. "He said he can do an examination this afternoon, so call ahead before you go. Animal clinic or Chinese restaurant, out in the country a phone call always comes first."
Skip the confirmation call, he explained, and you'd make a wasted trip for nothing.
"Thank you."
"Haha. What are you thanking me for? Haha. Now, let's go eat."
"There's one more thing weighing on me."
"Ah, what now! My stomach's about to collapse onto my back."
I scratched the back of my head. "I was worried Grandma Mak-soon might be going hungry."
While I'd been in Seoul, the village head's wife, Mrs. Han Su-ja, had promised to look in on her. Still, I've been worried. And curious. On top of that, Carpenter Jang had been waiting for me yesterday, so I hadn't been able to visit Grandma Park Mak-soon. It had been nagging at me the whole time.
"I picked up some castella and yakgwa pastries in Seoul. I'll bring them by for Grandma, and stop by your house later—just give me whatever cold rice is left over. Barley rice is delicious even cold."
"Well, I'll be! So you were serious about looking after Grandma Mak-soon?"
"Of course I'm serious."
I gave an awkward little laugh, but the village head's expression only grew more solemn as he watched me.
"What I mean is, it doesn't seem like you're just keeping an eye on her as a neighbor. It looks like you intend to care for her as tenderly as a son would."
"As a son... probably not. What I feel for my own parents and what I feel for Grandma Mak-soon are different things."
How could someone of my own blood and a complete stranger be the same? That was exactly why I had to be careful. With blood family, you could disappoint them by mistake and simply do better next time. But with someone who doesn't share a single drop of your blood, one mistake can mean the relationship never recovers at all.
So now that I'd committed to caring for Grandma Mak-soon, there could be no stopping halfway, no backing down. I didn't want to disappoint her.
When Lee Ho-young had shown the appraisers the photo of the white porcelain jar, they'd all said that if it survived in its original condition, it would fetch well over a billion won. And there was roughly 300 million more to reclaim from Kim Chang-soo. Grandma Mak-soon was ninety-two this year. Could she really live another ten? She'd spent ninety-two years toiling away raising that worthless thing she called a son, and she'd had far too little time to live in comfort.
I lowered my voice. "If Grandma Mak-soon can live out her days happily, I want to give her a proper funeral when she passes. That's what would put my heart at ease."
"If that's truly what you want..." The village head heaved a deep sigh, then went on. "After I had eel with you yesterday and got home, my wife's face was black as thunder. Her younger sister runs a restaurant, and it failed completely—she lost every last coin, right down to the house."
"I did hear that small businesses are struggling these days."
"Exactly. She couldn't even afford a place for the kids to sleep, and I told her we've got plenty of empty houses in our village—come live in one."
"What good is a house if there's no money to be earned— oh!"
I'd been searching for someone to look after Grandma Mak-soon for a while now. And every time, the village head would ask why I was throwing good money around, insisting that Mrs. Han Su-ja could simply check in on her now and then—that just housing the old woman at the village community hall would be blessing enough. But now that his sister-in-law had fallen on hard times, here he was, tentatively floating a proposal.
"I don't know how flexible you can be, but what if my sister-in-law looked after Grandma Mak-soon? Would that work for you?"
"If you introduce her, I'd be grateful."
"Even without one of those caregiver certifications?"
"Oh, come on. How many people get certified and then go right on beating the elderly?"
Barely a day went by without the news running stories of caregivers beating dementia patients or starving them.
"Don't you worry about that. She served her in-laws hand and foot while running her restaurant—devotion itself. Hardworking and sweet as can be. Now that the restaurant's gone, she can't show off her cooking, which is a shame. Her cooking? It'd smack our Han Su-ja's cheeks three times over and still have room to spare."
"Well, it's not easy to cook better than the Women's Association President, but if she manages even that... wouldn't that make her about a two-star Michelin?"
"Mishut-garu? What about it?"
"Haha, Michelin. It's a term for an outstanding chef. Say—what about her family? Her household, I mean."
I needed to know the makeup of the family before I could work out a basic living stipend. She'd be moving into an empty house on short notice, after all, and she'd need to be able to feed herself. That way she wouldn't be tempted to look for other work and could devote herself properly to Grandma Mak-soon.
"She's the youngest sister, so the kids are in middle and high school now. Her husband did table service and deliveries back when she ran the restaurant."
"So four in the family total?"
"That's right."
A family of four in the city would need at least three million won a month, but in the countryside they could live largely off the land. Mountain greens grew thick and lush everywhere you looked, and a kitchen garden was practically a vegetable warehouse. Raise a few chickens and you'd have fresh eggs every day. The sticking point was the middle and high school kids. My mother had always said the most expensive years were right before college—clothes shrank on them overnight and had to be replaced, and they ate like there was no tomorrow. The saving grace was that the village head's brother-in-law was of working age. He could earn a day's wage doing manual labor on the house repairs, too.
I finished my thinking and looked at the village head. "If she prepares Grandma Mak-soon's meals and handles all the housecleaning as well, I'll pay two million won a month."
"Th-that much?"
"And if she helps with baths or drives Grandma to the hospital, there'll be extra pay on top—plus a bonus."
People on salaries know the sweet taste of a bonus; that's half the joy of holding a job. With a bonus in hand you dream up things to buy, and that just makes you work harder, doesn't it?
"Good grief! Are you sure about this? I'm asking whether you can really afford to spend two million won every month."
"Yes. Of course."
"Well, I never. Are you a bodhisattva? An angel? You're bringing two households back to life in this world all by yourself!"
The village head clasped my hand, his eyes reddening. "Thanks to you, Grandma Mak-soon will have a comfortable old age, and my sister-in-law's family gets to put down roots in our village. Thank you. Truly, thank you."
"All you have to do is treat Grandma Mak-soon well."
"Don't you fret about that. My wife will look after the old woman like family too."
With that, the village head declared he had to spread the news right away and headed home at a half-run.
"H-hey! Village head! You said you'd wash the griddle I grilled the eel on, and all the dishes with it!"
He'd promised to scrub anything I brought over, and now he'd flown off so fast he was nowhere to be seen.
"Haha. He must be over the moon."
"Grandma, are you up?"
A little later, I parked in front of Grandma Mak-soon's house and let myself in through the gate. "Who is it? Ahh. The young man who moved in new."
Grandma Mak-soon, trimming mountain greens in the yard, glanced back at me with a look of recognition. Her mind seemed clear today.
"Grandma, I brought you some castella and rice cakes."
"Goodness, why would you buy all that?"
"You entrusted me with something very precious. With the money from selling it, I'm going to fix up your whole house and get your land back for you."
"Entrusted you with what? If it's that valuable, it should go to my Chang-soo. My Chang-soo is so cowed by his in-laws these days he can barely bring himself to call me."
It wasn't fear of his in-laws that kept him from calling. To that man, his mother had already been erased from existence. Only by living as if he'd dropped from the sky could his sins stop being sins at all.
Even if Grandma handed him a Silla golden crown instead of a late-Joseon pure white porcelain jar, that boy wouldn't be the least bit grateful. No—if anything, he'd try to bury the truth by sending her somewhere very far away.
I pressed down the bitterness welling in my chest and held out the shopping bag in my hand. "Take this, quick. I bought you new shoes, too."
"Why shoes for me?"
"Look at the ones you've got on."
How long had she worn those closed-toe plastic slippers? The middle of the sole had bent and flopped loose with every step. At this rate they'd snap clean in two. Nobody wore shoes worn down like that anymore.
"Besides, the weather's turned cold. Plastic slippers will have your feet freezing."
"Thick socks do the trick just fine... Oh!"
"What is it?"
"Fur-lined shoes?"
I'd bought them from the grandmothers selling traditional fur-lined slippers at the open market, and they must have struck her fancy. Grandma Mak-soon slid her gaunt, bony feet into them and grinned wide enough to show her gums.
"So soft. It's like walking on clouds."
"Do you like them?"
"I do. I love them."
Not expensive heels, not fur boots—just a simple pair of fur-lined slippers. I'd bought them so she could slip them on without a second thought, and that was enough. She twirled in place, showing them off.
"How do I look?"
"Beautiful."
"Oh, you liar."
She gave my shoulder a playful smack and burst into a shy little laugh—then suddenly headed for the tap and started packing the mountain greens into a plastic bag. "Take this with you. I don't care for handouts."
"But I'm eating lunch here?"
"Are you now? Is there any cold rice left?"
Since the fire she'd started during a bout of dementia, Grandma seemed to cook her rice in an electric rice cooker and boil her soup in a coffee pot. She opened the rice cooker, made a glum face, and heaved a sigh. "No rice? What am I going to do?"
"Grandma Mak-soon! I brought rice!"
The village head called out as he climbed down from the car. Mrs. Han Su-ja pulled an enormous wicker basket from the back seat. I hurried over, took the basket, and asked, "What's all this?"
"Barley rice, mountain greens, and soybean paste soup."
Like something laid out for a mid-morning snack, the basket held containers of rice, side dishes, and soup, all packed snugly together.
"Grandma, eat up quick and then head over to the village hall. Carpenter Jang's already left with the crew to start the repairs."
"Then we really don't have much time?"
"That's right."
"This picnic table—the village head built it for me last year. Would you look at that, not a single scratch on it. Perfect for setting out a meal."
Mrs. Han Su-ja gave the table a brisk wipe with a cloth, and I carried the basket from the wooden porch over to it and laid out the meal.
"Yunho, I heard everything from the village head. Thank you—truly, thank you." Mrs. Han Su-ja bowed her head to me in gratitude.
"I'm the one who's grateful. Please take good care of Grandma Mak-soon."
"Don't say such things. Even before you came along, Yunho, I looked in on her whenever I passed by. It broke my heart to see her. From now on I'll do even better. And my little sister Han Mi-ja goes without saying. Earning money like this in a mountain village like ours? It's no small thing."
Mrs. Han Su-ja began scooping rice, and it seemed as though my bowl alone got an extra generous share of the chestnuts. When I took a bite of rice studded with sweet, nutty fresh chestnuts, it was as if the whole mountainside had poured into my mouth.
"Wow, this is delicious. I could demolish a whole bowl with nothing to accompany it."
Sweet and chewy—genuinely wonderful.
"Add some mountain greens bit by bit, drizzle in perilla oil and soy sauce, and mix it all up. Then one bowl won't be the end of it—you could eat a whole pot."
"We've got a big mixing basin at our house!"
Grandma Mak-soon washed one and brought it back. Into it went a heaping mound of barley rice, every manner of mountain green, seasoned with perilla oil and soy sauce.
"It smells delicious already."
"Have a bite."
I opened my mouth wide and accepted the heaping spoonful of chestnut-and-greens bibimbap Mrs. Han Su-ja held out to me. "Whoa... whoa..."
Words simply failed me. It was so good that nothing but gasps of amazement kept tumbling out—and at the sight of me, Grandma Mak-soon cackled with delight.
"Hohoho. I look like some big-shot gambler raking in a quadruple payoff!"
"Hahaha, Grandma! Looks like your mind came back today!"
The village head asked, laughing.
"You bet! My head's been sharp as a tack all my life. It's the year 2002, isn't it? Like I wouldn't know! Dae-han-min-guk! Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!"
"That was twenty-three years ago..."
The village head jabbed me in the ribs with his elbow and shot me a look. Just play along. Then he said with a grin, "Grandma, come over to my place tonight, watch some TV, and sleep over. Dae-han-min-guk, clap-clap-clap-clap-clap! We've got some cheering to do."
The work on Grandma Mak-soon's house was set to begin today. Until the repairs were finished, the village head and his wife would be taking her in.
"Got it! I'll come by after I win big at the village hall. Dae-han-min-guk, clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!"
"Hahaha. I'm coming too! Dae-han-min-guk, clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!"
"That's the spirit! Everybody gather round! Dae-han-min-guk, clap-clap-clap-clap-clap!"
Mid-bite of mountain-green and chestnut bibimbap, everyone in the yard raised their voices for the Republic of Korea together.
Once the meal was over, I headed for the abandoned house on the mid-slope of the hill where the former-former village chief had once lived. When I'd chased the rat-shaped demon up here before, I hadn't seen him—or the ghost of Hwanggu—anywhere. Then he should be here now.
There was something I absolutely had to say to him.