It Dwells in Gyeonggi Province (3)
Park Seongmin had one old memory that stood out especially vividly. Back in his childhood, when times were tough and money was tight. His family rented a cramped second-floor attic space attached to a small house. Naturally, there was no proper shower in that rundown attic. The bathroom was just a faucet and a toilet, with no hot water whatsoever. In summer, the heat made it fine to splash around with cold water, but winter turned it into an icy hell where the cold wind whistled through, and even washing your face was torture. They'd boil a big pot of water, scoop it out with a ladle bit by bit, mix in the freezing tap water to eke out some warmth, and barely manage to clean their faces. In such conditions, bathing at home was out of the question.
So Seongmin would head to the public bathhouse once a month, hand in hand with his father. Faded scenes from long ago. Memories of forcing himself into the scalding water to soften his skin, only to bolt out after less than ten minutes. Of being grabbed by his dad and scrubbed until his whole body was red and raw. After his father washed up first, Seongmin would turn the bathhouse into his playground, racing around until a loud voice called out—then he'd dash over and push his father's broad back with his tiny, twig-like hands. His father was gone now, but those memories remained a warm treasure in Park Seongmin's heart. Poor as they were, it had never felt cold. That legacy was something he wanted to pass down intact to his own son.
That was why, even with a decent-sized tub in their home bathroom now, he still made a point of taking his son to the bathhouse now and then. Frequent visits meant he'd gotten familiar with quite a few faces. Neighborhood folks would greet them on the street.
"Well, if it isn't our little general!"
"Hi, Grandpa."
An old man sitting on the changing room bench, watching the news, greeted Seojun warmly. He came to the bathhouse almost weekly, complaining of back pain. Unlike other kids, Seojun wasn't shy, always bright and polite with adults, which made him popular with the elders. This grandpa was one of them—and he never failed to slip Seojun some pocket money whenever they met. Park Seongmin felt grateful but guilty about it.
"Can't just see our future general and not give a tribute! Here—take this bribe, Your Excellency!!"
"Whoa—thanks!"
Park Seongmin could only give a wry smile at his son snatching it up without a hint of hesitation.
"You don't have to do that. Really, we're sorry every time."
The old man waved it off at Park Seongmin's words.
"Nah, I do it 'cause I want to. Gotta butter him up now for favors later, right?"
"Thanks for saying such kind things."
"I know a bit about physiognomy, and Seojun's got the aura of a general. Not your average noble face."
"Haha—really?"
"Yup, not just any general. A great general—a grand marshal!!!"
Park Seongmin couldn't deny the old man's words when he saw where his gaze lingered. Objectively speaking, it was freakishly huge. A congenital trait, compounded by his physical growth balancing out some imbalance between body and soul—but from Seongmin's perspective, unaware of the details, even at rest it asserted a heavy, abnormal presence that made him worry it wasn't healthy. No ordinary clothes could hide the monstrosity, and his concerns grew daily.
"Seojun's no ordinary kid, that's for sure."
Pushing open the heavy glass door brought a thick herbal medicine scent and a wave of humid, steamy heat flooding into their lungs. Through the thick mist, the roar of cascading water and splashing echoed loudly.
"Let's soap up first."
The two stood side by side at the showers. Turning the lever to adjust the temperature and pressing the button unleashed a powerful jet that hammered their heads.
"Ow, too hot."
Wiping the steam from the mirror revealed his handsome face at a glance. Wrapping brought soap in a towel and scrubbing produced rich foam. After a quick lather and shampoo, Park Seongmin—who'd already rinsed—held out a toothbrush. Leaning in to brush, a sharp medicinal tang pierced his nose beyond the mint. Classic cheap toothpaste smell. As soon as he started brushing, a heavy, refreshing chill spread through his mouth, making his tongue tingle.
"Urk—urk—"
"Ughhh—"
"Kuhhh—"
Like the other middle-aged guys around, they brushed with gusto, down to their throats.
"Blub blub blub—ptoo."
After a round of retching and gargling, their mouths felt fresh.
"Gotta scrub the dead skin, so cold plunge later. Let's soften up first."
"'Kay—"
"Which bath?"
It was a big bathhouse with over five hot tubs.
"Herbal bath, obviously."
The emerald bath was too lukewarm, the clay one too scorching—the herbal one in between hit just right.
"Uuuu—feels good."
Dipping in foot by foot, the warmth climbed his calves, already loosening his body. Fully submerged, the earthy herbal aroma enveloped him. Not super concentrated, but the bubbling foam clouded the water till his legs vanished.
"Ahh, living again."
The heat seeped through skin into muscles and joints, wrapping them cozily—a week's fatigue melting away. He'd been a bathhouse regular for a while now, and it wasn't just about washing; it had a unique charm that eased the mind too. He felt deprived without it. Once or twice a month, weekend morning bathhouse trips were something he looked forward to.
"Haa—Seojun, how's school lately? You've been in the new grade a while—made lots of friends?"
"Eh, same old. Not many classes, small school, kids are all meh."
"Yeah? No new buddies?"
"Couple new faces, maybe six, but the rest are old ones. No point. Even with class changes, they stick to their cliques."
Even advancing grades and switching classes, kids stuck with old friends—didn't form new groups. At best, a newbie joined an existing crew. With so few kids, no real turnover.
"No one's bullying anyone?"
"Huh? Outta nowhere? What would I even bully kids for."
"You're a kid too, aren't ya? Mom's been worried lately. Says you just game at home instead of hanging out."
"Who goes out these days? Everyone meets online. Gaming together's more fun."
"Huh. Thought you had no friends from all the gaming. Glad to hear it."
Park Seongmin knew well how unusual his son was. From newborn days to now, countless bizarre events no normal person like him could comprehend. So he understood: Seojun had traits unlike other kids his age, yet he tried hard not to show it, making an effort to fit in. Those glimpses eased Seongmin's occasional anxiety from the unavoidable distance.
"Seojun, Dad's fine with you gaming all day. Just come to the bathhouse with me sometimes, chat, stay healthy—that's enough. I've been busy at work, haven't paid much attention, huh?"
"What? Why so sappy all sudden. Then up my allowance."
"No way."
"Tch—"
After the sauna and a thorough scrubbing, their bodies felt limp and drained. Post-bath, cracking open an ice-cold Pocari Sweat was paradise. Sitting on the changing room bench trimming nails, the morning news played on TV.
"Hmm...... natural causes, huh."