Return to Cheongunpo
Half from hunger, half from curiosity, I stepped into the gukbap house. Luckily a single seat was free, so I claimed it at once.
"Mister!"
The criminal-law girl spotted me and came over with a bright greeting.
I'm not a mister. I'm thirty-two. Still a young man.
Ah—in a few days I'll be thirty-three.
"Huh? You're here in the evening too?"
She answered my question with a sunny smile.
"Oh! Suddenly we got swamped with customers, so I decided to help out today."
"Looks like things worked out for you?"
"Yes. The police rounded those guys up completely. They finally got them good this time."
"That's really a relief."
Seeing her happy smile left me with a strangely warm feeling.
"But when do you even study?"
"I'm good at studying, you know~? No problem at all. Pork gukbap again today?"
"Yeah. A big one. Make it the special."
I noticed a new "special" option had appeared on the menu board.
"Okay~ Just a moment~"
She winked one eye and vanished toward the kitchen.
A little later, as she set the bowl down, she asked me casually,
"Have you been here a few days ago? During the day?"
"No. Never."
"Ah, I just wondered if maybe you were the one who helped us."
She was fishing a little, so I tilted my head as if I had no idea what she meant.
"Helped with what?"
"Never mind! If it wasn't you, it's fine! Enjoy your meal~"
She stared at me for a beat, then smiled softly and walked away.
It was a strangely meaningful smile…
Anyway, the gukbap here really was delicious.
A place like this shouldn't disappear.
When I finished and tried to pay, she flatly refused. I insisted, but the criminal-law girl shoved me out the door with both hands.
"Come often, Mister!"
I'm not a mister.
I gave her an awkward smile and a light wave.
Stomach full, I took a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood and headed for the bookstore.
Fortunately no loan-shark business cards were stuck to the entrance.
I opened the door; a fair number of customers were inside, and the owner was busily arranging books.
"I'm here."
"Oh! Young Noh! Come in!"
A broad smile bloomed across the bookstore owner's face.
A few days later.
December slipped away and the new year dawned.
On the weekend I headed to the terminal to catch an express bus.
There was no direct train home, so I usually took the bus.
Mother had kept asking me to visit; I had put it off and put it off until something finally forced my hand.
My younger brother was moving up to Seoul, and he had so much luggage he couldn't manage alone.
So I decided to go down myself, see their faces, and come back up with him.
I bought a ticket, waited a short while, confirmed the bus had arrived, stood up, and climbed aboard.
Three hours later I reached my hometown in Changhae-gun, Gangwon-do.
From there it was another fifteen-minute local bus ride.
Cheongunpo.
The name meant "harbor where blue clouds linger."
It was also where Mother's restaurant and the house I grew up in still stood.
A place of unusually blue skies and a wide-open view of the East Sea, it never lacked for tourists.
Riding the bus toward Cheongunpo, I briefly considered buying a car once I had some breathing room. Then I shook my head.
How often do I even come home?
I skipped the house and went straight to Mother's restaurant.
Lunch hour had already passed, so the street of eateries was quiet.
Mother's place was a small snack shop on the corner of the building; surprisingly, it had plenty of regulars and a fair number of travelers as well.
I was just about to step inside when Mother's voice drifted through the open door.
"Owner, last year you already raised the rent, and now you're saying you'll raise it again this year? What are we supposed to do? Business is already tough these days. We have to eat too. Please. Couldn't we put it off until next year? Just give us a break this year. Yes. Yes. Please ask your wife and call me back."
The call ended and a long sigh escaped her lips.
"Haa…"
Raised the rent last year and again this year?
With the recession dragging on, every won they scraped together seemed to go straight into the landlord's pocket.
Tenants were barely keeping food on the table.
Apparently Mother was no exception.
I paced outside for a moment, then turned away.
I'll come back once she's collected herself.
Figuring I might as well gather some information, I headed for the raw-fish restaurant my hometown friend ran near the beach.
It was only a five-minute walk from Mother's snack shop.
Sangjun had been close to me since we were kids; he ran the place with his parents.
I dialed him while I walked.
"Hey, it's me. What are you doing?"
"Thinking about you."
I hung up.
Partly because the line was ridiculous, partly because I could already see Sangjun under a parasol in front of the restaurant, sipping beer.
He was staring down at his phone, smacking his lips.
Crazy pervert bastard.
"Hey. Kim Sangjun! Drinking beer in the middle of the day like some sad case?"
I sat down across from him under the parasol. He sprayed beer and shouted,
"Huh~? Huh?? Yo, Noh-bakku! What the hell? No call or anything!"
"I missed you."
I paid him back in kind. Sangjun looked at me with pure disgust and held out a beer.
"Bullshit. Want one? When'd you get in?"
"Just now."
I cracked the can he handed me.
"Didn't go to your mom's place?"
"I got as far as the front door and came here instead."
"Why?"
He looked puzzled.
"Heard something I shouldn't have. Business going okay these days?"
I smoothly changed the subject. He guzzled beer and answered in a complaining tone.
"Us? Don't even ask. We're scraping by. Just pinching every coin to hang on."
For the record, the raw-fish restaurant building belonged to Sangjun's parents. At least they didn't have rent hanging over their heads.
"Your mom's place is doing pretty well, though. It's just that the landlord's a pain in the ass."
Of course—if I stayed quiet long enough, the guy would volunteer everything himself.
Something felt off, though. The landlord used to be kind old Mr. Hong.
"The landlord? Wasn't he a decent guy?"
Sangjun frowned at my question.
"Your mom didn't tell you? Last year he remarried some young fox of a woman, and ever since he's been dying to squeeze every tenant dry. Looks like she's the one cracking the whip. Dumb bastard got played. You really never heard?"
"Ah… yeah. First I've heard."
"Tsk tsk… She didn't want you to worry, so she kept quiet. She told me, though. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything."
Sangjun glanced at me guiltily and cracked open a fresh can.
The thorough bastard even kept an ice bag under the parasol.
"Your mom's been keeping the place open late into the evening. You should talk to her. Health comes first once you get older. And that fox of a woman seems to be eyeing your mom's shop… just a hunch, but the way she looks at the place isn't normal…"
The alcohol had loosened his tongue; Sangjun started rambling on and on.
Listening quietly, I realized Mother's stress must be far worse than I'd imagined.
Isn't there some good way to handle this?
For the first time in a while, my mind began spinning at high speed.
But doesn't this bastard have dinner service to run?
I endured about an hour of Sangjun's nonsense until word came that his father was returning from fishing; I quickly cleaned up the table.
"Have a drink before you head back up."
"I'm going straight back today."
"Bullshit. Hey, you been working out lately?"
Sangjun looked me up and down and tilted his head.
"Working out? Please…"
I gave him a light wave and headed back to Mother's shop.
Three in the afternoon.
The quietest hour of the day.
"Mom, I'm here."
I stepped through the open door. Mother, dozing in a chair, jerked awake and sprang to her feet. Then she beamed and hurried over.
"You're here! My big son! Why are you so skinny? Are you eating properly?"
She poked and prodded me all over, face full of worry. Mom, those are muscles.
"Yes. I'm stronger than before. Don't worry."
"Have you eaten? Want me to fix something?"
"No, I already ate. What about you?"
Reunions with Mother always began and ended with food.
"I ate ages ago. You must be tired from the trip. Sit, sit. I'll get you some fruit."
"Where's Beomjin?"
"He stopped by the cooking academy to pick up his things. He'll be here soon."
I nodded and looked around the shop.
The air was thick with the familiar hometown smells.
Crisp frying oil, the scent of freshly boiled tteokbokki broth, steam rising from the fish-cake soup—all of it blended together, and somewhere in the middle was the faint, warm scent of Mother herself.
The interior was old, but kept meticulously clean, with little repairs here and there.
There were two fewer tables than before; the space between the kitchen and the counter had been widened instead.
"You changed a lot in here."
"Opened up the kitchen a bit. Getting older makes all that back-and-forth hard. And I can't handle as many customers anymore."
Mother smiled, put a few strawberries on a plate, and handed them over. I sat in my usual spot beside the kitchen and popped one into my mouth.
No matter where I looked, the place still felt peaceful.
I watched Mother peeling an apple.
She had aged a lot since I last saw her. Even the hands peeling the fruit carried years of experience. Yet she was watching me too. She tilted her head and asked,
"Looking at you now… your face seems handsomer somehow… Were your shoulders always this broad?"
"Come on, Mom. No way. Same as always."
I laughed awkwardly and waved it off. Mother narrowed her eyes at me.
"Really? Strange. Are you seeing someone these days?"
"No. Like I have time for dating right now."
"You should date a little. You're settled enough now—time to get married."
There it was. After food came marriage. Classic.
We chatted about this and that while waiting for Beomjin.
It was time to ask.
"Mom, how long are you planning to keep this place going?"
"The snack shop? Who knows? As long as I can, I guess?"
"Isn't it hard?"
I probed gently. Mother laughed as if the idea were absurd.
"Hard? Once I start working I don't even notice the time. Staying home is more boring and stifling."
"…Okay."
I couldn't ask anything more and closed my mouth.
This isn't about money.
This is Mother's life.
And she probably wouldn't quit until all three of her children were properly married and settled.
That meant I needed a different approach.
Dozens of scenarios—from Plan A to Plan Z—unfolded in my head. Well, not quite that many, but if I exaggerated a little…
The most certain and appealing plan was still the same: buy the building and set Mother up in a brand-new shop.
For her happy later years.
Of course it wasn't a problem that could be solved overnight.
How much would a building like this even cost?
"Mom! Hyung!"
A cheerful voice rang out from outside.
Beomjin.
"Looks like he's here."
Mother stood up first.