5
# 05. Dad Has Changed (2)
6:30 p.m.
After finishing work, there was 320,000 won in my pocket.
Six 50,000-won bills and two 10,000-won bills.
It wasn't a particularly thick envelope, but its weight felt heavier than the billions of won I had handled in my
previous life.
Money that smelled of sweat rather than blood.
Money I had earned by grinding down my own body, not by selling out my family.
“Hoo…”
I caught my breath and headed straight for a used-appliance store in the market.
“Welcome. Looking for something?”
The owner asked gruffly.
My appearance—covered in dust and wearing old work clothes—probably didn't make me look like someone with much
purchasing power.
“Do you have a small refrigerator and a washing machine? Something that can be used right away.”
“Cheap ones? Take a look over there in the corner. Refrigerator, 50,000 won. Washing machine, 70,000 won. They're a
little old, but the motors are still running strong.”
In the place he pointed, appliances with peeling paint and yellowed surfaces sat covered in dust.
A dull ache throbbed somewhere in my chest.
Where had all the household appliances Haeun had brought as her dowry when she married me gone?
The side-by-side refrigerator.
The drum washing machine.
The large TV.
I had sold them.
To pay off gambling debts.
To get money for alcohol.
I had listed them on used-goods sites and pawned them.
One by one.
One by one.
In the end, all that remained in the empty room was moldy wallpaper and a cold floor.
“I'll take both.”
“120,000 won. Delivery is separate, and you said it's a basement? Then you'll have to pay another 40,000 won for the
truck and labor…”
“I'll take them myself.”
“What? These?”
The owner looked dumbfounded.
The washing machine was manageable, but the refrigerator was heavy enough to be difficult for one person to carry.
And I was saying I would take both.
“Just lend me a handcart. I'll bring it back in no time.”
Before he could even answer, I took out 120,000 won and handed it to him.
Then I grabbed the washing machine with one hand and hoisted the refrigerator onto my back.
“Hup.”
As I focused my strength into my danjeon, the muscles throughout my body tightened.
It was enough weight to wreck an ordinary person's back, but my body, tempered by the Asura Art, didn't scream in pain.
Instead, it poured out strength.
I roughly secured the appliances with a rope, then effortlessly lifted them onto the handcart.
“Well, I'll be damned… You sure are strong.”
I ignored the owner's astonished muttering and pulled the handcart.
Rattle, rattle.
The sound of its wheels rolling echoed through the alley.
---
The tiny basement room.
Fortunately, no one was home yet.
Haeun got off work at six, and by the time she picked Seolhee up from daycare and came home, it would be past seven.
Creak.
I unlocked the door.
Damp air.
The musty smell of mold.
When I turned on the light, the traces of my sins were laid bare.
Torn wallpaper.
A broken door.
An empty kitchen.
This was the home where my family lived.
The prison I had thrown them into.
I installed the refrigerator and washing machine in the corner.
When I plugged them in, the refrigerator began running with a low hum.
That mechanical sound strangely comforted me.
At least it sounded like a sign that this house was alive.
Now it was time to buy groceries.
I ran to a nearby supermarket.
I needed to fill the empty kitchen.
Ten kilograms of rice.
A tray of eggs.
Tofu.
Bean sprouts.
And things to fill the completely empty cupboards.
Cooking oil.
Soy sauce.
Ssamjang.
Sesame oil.
Since I'd bought a washing machine, I needed detergent too.
I even picked up toilet paper.
I stopped in front of the meat section.
Pork belly.
Something Haeun liked.
When we were dating, we didn't have much money, so she would happily eat even the cheap frozen thinly sliced pork belly
I bought for her.
After we got married, I hadn't even let her see that much.
“Two geun of fresh pork belly, please. The best you've got.”
I put it in the cart and turned to leave.
Then the fruit section caught my eye.
Plump, ripe red strawberries.
I remembered.
Every time Seolhee passed the supermarket, she would look at the strawberries and swallow hard.
*“Daddy, I want strawberries.”*
*“Shut up! What do you mean strawberries when we don't even have money?”*
Back then, I had used the money that could have bought a pack of strawberries to buy soju instead.
Because my pathetic pride and drunkenness had mattered more to me than my child's tears.
My hand trembled.
I picked up a pack of strawberries.
It felt heavy.
Then I noticed the processed-food section beside it.
Pink sausages.
Another food Seolhee had begged for.
I picked up two packs of sausages and tossed them into the cart.
I added banana milk too.
Everything Seolhee had wanted to eat but had probably been too afraid of her father to even ask for.
The items piled up on the checkout counter.
“That'll be 134,000 won.”
That left me with 66,000 won.
I'd give 50,000 won to Haeun and use the rest for transportation and lunch tomorrow.
Perfect.
---
Back in the basement room.
I filled the refrigerator.
Watching the once-empty space become filled with food made something sting inside my chest.
I stocked the cupboards with seasonings.
I poured rice into the rice container.
The sound of it pouring in—
Whoosh—
sounded like rainfall.
Finally, I placed an envelope on the dining table.
50,000 won in cash.
And a memo pad.
I picked up a pen.
My hand hesitated.
What should I write?
‘I'm sorry’?
‘I'll come to my senses now’?
‘Please forgive me’?
All of it felt disgusting.
An apology that was nothing but words.
Lies I had told hundreds of times.
My words had less credibility than the Boy Who Cried Wolf.
There was no way they would reach her.
I put the pen down.
I didn't write anything.
I simply left the envelope of money.
For now, this was the best I could do.
She needed food more than excuses.
Clunk.
I heard the sound of the front gate opening outside.
They were here.
My heart dropped.
I hurriedly grabbed my shoes and rushed toward the window.
The half-basement window was right beside the alley.
I squeezed my body through the narrow opening and closed the iron bars.
Then I hid in the shadows at the entrance of the alley.
---
“Mom, I'm hungry…”
Seolhee's whining voice reached me.
There was no strength in it at all.
“Just hold on a little longer. I'll give you some food when we get home.”
Haeun's voice was exhausted too.
She had been worn down by work all day and then had to pick up the child.
Her voice sounded completely drained.
The two of them descended the stairs.
I heard the sound of a key turning.
Creak.
The door opened.
Then silence.
“……?”
Haeun's confused voice came from inside.
“What… is all this?”
“Wow! It's a refrigerator!”
Seolhee shouted.
“Mom! Look at that! It's humming!”
“……”
Haeun said nothing.
I heard the sound of her taking off her shoes.
Then the refrigerator door opening.
“Huh? There's meat! Mom, there's meat!”
Seolhee's voice was filled with excitement.
“There are sausages too! And banana milk! Wow, strawberries! Mom, there are strawberries too!”
“Seolhee, don't touch them.”
Haeun's voice was cold.
Caution came before joy.
“Someone… came here.”
Anxiety.
Suspicion.
Of course.
She probably couldn't imagine that her husband had done this.
She must have been afraid that a debt collector or gangster had come by, wondering if they had some ulterior motive.
“Huh? Mom, there's money here.”
Seolhee had found the envelope on the dining table.
“……”
I could hear the rustling of paper.
Haeun was checking the envelope.
After a moment—
“…Ha.”
A small sigh.
It was relief.
Relief that whoever had come hadn't come to hurt them.
And relief that with this 50,000 won, she could at least buy the things Seolhee needed for daycare tomorrow.
But the words she muttered afterward flew into me like a dagger.
“That man… What kind of trouble did he get into this time?”
Maybe he had stolen the money.
Maybe he had won it gambling.
To Haeun, that was the kind of person I was.
A man who would never honestly work up a sweat to earn money.
A man who would blow away any money he got through some kind of incident on alcohol.
A man who would create debts through his own stupidity and then come home and take his anger out on his family.
My chest ached.
Her reaction was completely natural.
But it still hurt.
“Mom, can I eat this? The strawberries.”
“……”
“Hm? I want some.”
“…Okay. Let's eat.”
I heard clattering.
Then the sound of running water.
The sound of strawberries being washed.
“It's yummy! Mom, you eat some too!”
“No, I'm fine. You eat a lot.”
“No, Mom, you eat some too—ah~”
The sound of Seolhee chewing.
Her laughter.
I leaned against the cold alley wall and listened to those sounds.
I wanted to be in there too.
I wanted to sit at the table and wash strawberries for her.
I wanted to ask, “Is it good?”
I wanted to pat her head and tell her, “Eat lots.”
But I couldn't go inside.
Because if I went in now, that laughter would turn into screams.
I wasn't ‘Dad’ yet.
I was the ‘monster’ who shattered their happiness.
I clenched my fist tightly.
‘Wait.’
My fingernails dug into my flesh until blood welled up.
‘I'll come back.
I promise.
And I'll come back with my head held high.’
I pulled my cap down.
Then I walked into the darkness.
Out of habit, my hand went into my pocket.
My fingertips caught on a crumpled pack of cigarettes.
Without thinking, I pulled one out and put it between my lips.
Click.
The flame of the lighter illuminated the darkness.
Beyond that flickering light, I heard the innocent sound of Seolhee's laughter from moments ago.
‘…….’
The acrid smell of cigarette smoke brushed against my nose.
Along with the lingering smell of alcohol.
That was my smell.
The stench that had made Seolhee cover her nose and run away.
The smell that had made my wife wrinkle her nose in disgust.
If I was going to return to that house, I had to get rid of this smell first.
I spat out the cigarette between my lips.
Then I crushed the pack in my hand until it was completely mangled.
Thump.
I shoved the crumpled pack into a trash can.
“I'm quitting.”
This too.
My trash-like life as well.
I began walking toward the jjimjilbang.
My footsteps felt lighter than ever.