4
Chapter 4. Who Are You?
The morning the Jonathan family departed for Boston.
Jonathan’s old truck, loaded with all their belongings, rattled along the unpaved road, gradually disappearing into the distance.
Mr. Martin watched the truck’s retreating figure for a long time. His gaze remained fixed on the little boy leaning out the window and waving goodbye.
Sigh.
When the truck finally disappeared beyond the horizon, shrinking into a tiny dot, Mr. Martin took off his glasses, wiped the lenses, and let out a deep breath.
“Ibrahim! Are you watching?”
His voice was carried away by the wind, but there was certainty in his words.
“After meeting you, I thought I would never encounter another person capable of surpassing you.”
Mr. Martin smiled faintly and adjusted his glasses again.
Jonathan’s Grocery Store, Cambridge Street
The Jonathan family’s new life on Cambridge Street in Boston settled into place much faster than they had expected.
Using the money he had received from selling the farm, Jonathan purchased a modest two-story house and opened a small grocery store on the ground floor under his own name.
Jonathan’s business sense was remarkable.
His farmer’s eye for selecting the freshest vegetables and fruits at the market before dawn, combined with his characteristic diligence, quickly won over even the most particular people in Boston. Word spread that the food sold at Jonathan’s store was always trustworthy and fresh, and the shop grew busier with each passing day.
However, the greatest joy for the Jonathan family came from something else entirely.
With Mr. Martin’s letter of recommendation, Leo took the entrance examination for Buckingham Browne & Nichols and achieved the highest score in the school’s history, an unprecedented result. Breaking through the prejudice against Asian students, he earned his place at one of Boston’s most prestigious private schools.
School had begun, but the time Leo looked forward to most each day was after classes, when he could help his father at the store.
“Leo, you should be studying. From now on, stop coming to the store so often.”
Despite Jonathan’s protests, Leo cheerfully tied his apron tightly around his waist and smiled.
“I’ve already finished all my homework, Dad. Besides, I like being with you more than anything.”
“You little rascal!”
There was another reason Leo was so enthusiastic about helping at the store.
Jonathan had started delivering groceries to MIT, one of the world’s leading engineering universities, located nearby.
Most of the orders were small and hardly profitable, but Jonathan never once showed any reluctance as he prepared the delivery boxes.
His real intention was to use the deliveries as an excuse to take his son around the MIT campus and let him explore every corner of it.
“All right, Leo. Let’s go!”
Father and son headed to MIT every day in the delivery truck.
As Leo watched the magnificent domed buildings and the backs of future engineering geniuses hurrying through the corridors, his eyes sparkled like stars.
Jonathan quietly worked up a sweat carrying boxes, while Leo stood beside him, glimpsing his own future over the shoulders of those geniuses.
Before they knew it, two years had passed since the family had settled on Cambridge Street in Boston.
It was 1987, and ten-year-old Leo had become an absolutely unrivaled presence at Buckingham Browne & Nichols.
He had repeatedly skipped grades and was now attending eighth grade, the equivalent of the second year of middle school in Korea, despite being only ten years old.
Even among students several years older than him, the top spot in the entire school always belonged to Leo.
Mathematics, in particular, was on an entirely different level. He had already moved beyond the regular high school curriculum and was studying at the level of Advanced Placement courses designed to prepare students for university.
Leo achieved overwhelming scores in every school examination and academic competition he entered, sweeping up practically every award available both inside and outside the school.
But what astonished people even more than his talent was his character.
Leo was so brilliant that using even one-thousandth of his intelligence would have been enough to excel, yet he never flaunted his abilities.
Instead, his natural sense of humor and consideration for others made him one of the most popular students among his friends.
The unfamiliar stares directed at him as an Asian boy had long since faded into the background, overshadowed by his bright and infectious energy.
Meanwhile, Jonathan’s grocery store had also grown tremendously.
His insistence on sourcing the freshest ingredients every morning, combined with his diligence, had completely won over Boston’s discerning customers. The store now stocked more than a hundred different products and had grown large enough to employ three additional workers.
Yet Leo still considered rushing straight to the store after school and helping his father the happiest part of his day.
One peaceful morning,
A well-built man riding a bicycle along Cambridge Street stopped in front of Jonathan’s store.
He was Professor Ibrahim, a world-renowned authority in the Department of Mechanical Engineering at MIT. Without even getting off his bicycle, he waved through the shop’s wide-open entrance and called out a greeting.
“Good morning, Jonathan! As expected, you’re the first person to get Cambridge moving this morning!”
Jonathan, who had been sweeping the floor, straightened up and returned the greeting with a bright smile.
“Good morning, Professor Ibrahim! You’re out early today.”
“Not as early as you, Jonathan! Now, shall I borrow an expert’s eye again today? Which fruits are the freshest?”
Jonathan glanced over the neatly arranged fruits on the shelves and answered confidently.
“Fresh grapes from California are arriving this afternoon. They’ll be incredibly sweet.”
“Oh, grapes! Excellent choice. My mouth is already watering. Could you deliver some to my office this afternoon?”
“Of course, Professor! I’ll pick out the best ones myself and bring them over.”
Just then, a young voice came from inside the store.
“Hello, Professor!”
“Oh, Leo, you’re here too! Good morning! I’ve heard the news. You’re absolutely dominating BB&N, aren’t you? At this point, why don’t you become my student?”
“Yes! I’ll think about it!”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re considering that mediocre Harvard, crawling with bookworms!”
“Who knows!”
“Hahaha! This is serious! I’ll have to work harder to win you over! Leo, I’ll see you later!”
“Yes, Professor! Have a safe ride!”
Professor Ibrahim pedaled away again, disappearing down the street.
A little later,
As the lazy afternoon sunlight settled over Cambridge Street, Leo finished his classes and, as usual, rolled up his sleeves inside the grocery store.
He was already a veteran employee.
His hands moved with machine-like precision as he checked the quantities of incoming goods and arranged fruit on the shelves.
Finally, the long-awaited fresh California grapes arrived, filling the delivery truck.
To keep his promise from that morning, Jonathan selected a box of the plumpest grapes.
Just as he was about to deliver them to Professor Ibrahim himself, Andrew, one of the employees, came rushing over, his face drained of color.
“Mr. Jonathan! The control unit in the freezer has suddenly stopped working! All the meat inside is going to thaw!”
“What?”
It was an urgent situation, and Jonathan, who had become highly skilled at repairing machinery back in his farming days, needed to handle it personally.
Seeing his father panic, Leo loaded the box of grapes into the front basket of his bicycle and volunteered to make the delivery.
“Dad, you should fix the freezer first. I’ll handle the delivery!”
“Are you sure you can manage alone? That box is pretty heavy.”
“I’ve traveled that route with you hundreds of times. I’ll ride over and be back in no time.”
“All right. Then I’ll leave it to my son. Be careful on your bicycle!”
“Yes, Dad!”
Jonathan readily accepted his dependable son’s offer. Leo secured the box of grapes on his bicycle and pedaled toward the MIT campus.
The MIT campus was bustling with energy in 1987.
The sight of ten-year-old Leo riding his bicycle across the grounds had already become familiar to many students. The little boy who used to sit in the passenger seat of Jonathan’s delivery truck had now started showing up on his own bicycle, and the engineering students who encountered him on campus greeted him warmly.
“Hey, Leo! I heard you won the grand prize at the competition last time! Congratulations!”
“Well... I was lucky. Thank you!”
“You little rascal! Don’t even dream of going to Sanders Theatre, where all those bookworms hang around! MIT has already called dibs on you!”
“Yes!”
Leo was already something of a celebrity among the university students.
A little later,
Leo made his way toward Building 7, where the Department of Mechanical Engineering was located.
When he arrived at Professor Ibrahim’s office, he found a witty note attached to the door, written in the professor’s characteristic style.
“Due to an urgent academic conference, I’ll be away for a while. Jonathan, please leave the grapes in front of this door. I’m sure I’ll be able to find your grapes easily just by following their delightful aroma.”
“He’s not here!”
Leo smiled and carefully placed the box of grapes beneath the note.
Then he took a pen from his pocket and wrote a reply in the empty space on the professor’s note.
“Our grapes smell so delicious that I can’t be held responsible if a stray cat carries them away, Professor! Enjoy! Sincerely, Leo.”
Having completed his mission, Leo decided not to head straight back. Instead, he took a moment to explore the building.
The views beyond the corridors had always intrigued him whenever he accompanied his father, and now he finally had the chance to look around.
“...!”
As he walked absentmindedly, Leo suddenly stopped in front of a lecture hall.
It was a large, empty classroom with the door slightly ajar.
Curiosity gleaming in his eyes, Leo stepped inside. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows from behind, illuminating the dust motes floating in front of the blackboard.
The enormous blackboard was covered from edge to edge with complicated equations, as though someone had spent a great deal of time working through them.
Leo’s eyes began to sparkle.
This was a world of mathematics on an entirely different level from the boring material taught at school.
The intellectual instincts he had been forcing himself to suppress began to stir to life.
“If I substitute this variable here... Aha! So that’s how it flows.”
As though under a spell, Leo approached the podium and picked up a piece of chalk.
Tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.
The sound of chalk striking the blackboard filled the empty lecture hall.
He didn’t hesitate even once.
Leo’s hand moved with extraordinary precision and speed, like a machine following a predetermined path.
Adding his own original reasoning, he began writing out the equations without restraint.
Under his fingertips, the complicated formulas transformed into clear, comprehensible truths, gradually filling the blackboard.
He was almost at the final stage when a voice suddenly rang out.
“Hey! You there, kid! What do you think you’re doing?”
Startled, Leo spun around at the sound of the janitor’s voice from the back of the lecture hall.
“Ah, I, um...”
“You can’t just wander in here! Come on, get out!”
“Yes!”
Leo hurriedly put down the chalk.
He hadn’t completed the final step, but the essential framework of the solution was already written on the board.
He quickly left the lecture hall.
Without looking back, Leo ran toward the place where he had parked his bicycle.
He felt an exhilarating rush, the kind that came from finally unleashing the intellectual thirst he had been suppressing for so long.
Then he climbed onto his bicycle and returned to Jonathan’s store.
The next morning, in the lecture hall.
It was early, and the morning sunlight fell across the floor in the pattern of the window grilles.
Inside the lecture hall in Building 7 at MIT, Professor Ibrahim stood alone.
He had left his office earlier than usual, and the moment he opened the lecture hall door, he stopped dead in front of the blackboard.
The complicated mathematical engineering problem he had written at the end of the previous day’s lecture was still there.
But beneath it, a series of equations had been written in unfamiliar handwriting, as though someone had transcribed the contents of his own mind directly onto the board.
“Hmm.”
Professor Ibrahim folded his arms and stared at the blackboard, his face flushed with excitement.
The more lines of equations he read, the brighter his eyes became.
“This is...”
The person who had written the solution hadn’t merely solved the problem.
They had completely grasped the flow of the mathematics and the underlying logical structure he had intended.
They had followed the exact trajectory of reasoning he had envisioned, without the slightest deviation, and laid out the entire process.
Of course, the final result was still missing.
It was as though someone had entered Ibrahim’s mind and walked around inside it.
Just then,
Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and the lecture hall door opened.
The first student entered, noticed the professor standing motionless in front of the blackboard, and hesitated before taking a seat.
Then two more students arrived, followed by three others, until the lecture hall gradually filled up.
“Good morning, Professor!”
“...”
Ibrahim merely raised a hand in response, keeping his gaze fixed on the blackboard.
It was unlike him to be so quiet. He was usually quick to crack a joke or make a playful remark.
As the students put down their bags and took out their writing materials, their attention kept drifting toward the unfamiliar equations on the blackboard and the professor standing in front of them.
At last, the lecture hall was packed, and the bell signaling the start of class rang.
Only then did Ibrahim slowly pick up his attendance sheet and turn around.
His gaze swept across the students before he spoke.
“Who did this?”
He stretched an arm behind him and pointed at the equations on the blackboard.
“Which one of you pulled off this outrageous stunt?”
The students exchanged bewildered looks.
Ibrahim studied their reactions one by one. Then, fiddling with the piece of chalk resting near the blackboard, he asked again.
“Come on, confess. Who was the person who hacked into my mind without permission?”
Professor Ibrahim’s sharp voice rang out through every corner of the lecture hall.