The Trial
This time, the cold air didn’t startle me.
This time, I didn’t wait for the water to turn hot.
This time, I finished washing my face without getting my hair wet.
This time, I didn’t sit straight down at the table.
“What’s gotten into you, bringing water yourself?”
Clink—
“You even put ice in it?”
I had fetched the water first.
“It’s nice and cold, right?”
“Yeah. It is.”
Then I picked up my chopsticks right away and set a few well-cooked potatoes and the least unappetizing pieces of meat onto Dad’s rice bowl.
“What’s this now… playing royal food taster?”
“Pfft… Yes. Royal food taster.”
“Well, poison wouldn’t kill your old man anyway.”
“Exactly. That’s why… I’m making you the royal food taster.”
“You little brat.”
A sharp retort, and the happy smile that completely contradicted it.
Dad beamed as he shoved everything I had given him into his mouth in one go.
“Oof, hot as hell. You eat some too.”
Even though steam was billowing off it.
With a face flushed bright red.
With an expression that said he was dying from the heat.
I watched him diligently move his chopsticks to pile potatoes and meat onto my rice bowl, and I smiled just as brightly as I shoved a mouthful in myself.
The potatoes were hard.
The meat was tough.
The soup was bland.
The rice was soggy.
Ah… this really tastes awful.
“Is it decent enough to eat?”
I kept chewing the meat that refused to break down and nodded.
“Right? Khahaha! Only people who know how to eat get it. Have plenty, my kid.”
A rough hand trying to cover up apology and gratitude.
I felt it fully as I forced the meat down.
Once I had finally cleared my mouth, softer-looking meat and a neatly shaped piece of tofu appeared next.
Dad, who always ate the ugly food himself and saved the pretty-looking pieces for Mom and me.
Dad, who at every meal made sure Mom and I got the tastiest bits first.
Dad, who hated moving while eating more than anything, yet the moment Mom or I wanted water would rise without a single complaint or hesitation, faster than anyone, and bring it to us.
Dad, who would secretly pick pretty flowers for Mom and get scolded for it every time.
Dad, who could read Mom’s mood like a ghost and would skip lunch just to buy her something delicious.
Dad, who always stopped on the way home from work to pick Mom up.
In February, chocolate.
In March, candy.
In May, a gift.
In November, Pepero.
In December, presents tucked into socks.
Their wedding anniversary.
Mom’s birthday.
My birthday.
On every single anniversary he would even take the day off to look after our family, while on his own special days he worked harder than anyone.
My beloved dad.
“Dad.”
“Yeah.”
“How… how can you do all that?”
“…What’s this out of nowhere while we’re eating? Does it… taste bad?”
“No… It’s just, I’m not even your real kid… but you treat me like I am.”
Dad set his spoon down with a clack, his face full of fluster, and straightened his posture.
“What are you talking about all of a sudden? Why, did someone say something? Which little—”
“Nooo… It’s not that… I was just… curious…”
Curious.
Worried.
Afraid.
Scared.
Dad carefully lifted his chopsticks again with a soft clink, let out a small sigh, and speared a perfectly cooked potato.
“We’re family.”
Then he gently placed it on my rice bowl and smiled warmly.
“Do I need any other reason?”
I put the nicely cooked potato that had appeared on my bowl once more into my mouth.
It was soft.
And so hot.
I couldn’t smile.
“Oh my? Noah, what brings you out to meet me? Where’s Dad?”
“We came together… Dad’s over there.”
“Is that so? Then why are you standing outside instead of waiting in the car?”
“I wanted to see you sooner. Hehe…”
“What’s gotten into this child?”
Mom’s hand, which had been stroking my hair, flinched and trembled.
“But… Noah, have you been crying?”
“Ah, n-no…?”
“Really?”
My throat felt tight and clogged; I could only manage a small nod.
Mom looked at me for a while with a strange little smile, then smiled kindly again and squeezed my hand tight.
“Goodness, your hands are freezing. Let’s hurry home. I’ll make doenjang jjigae today.”
“Yesss…”
Mom’s hands were bright red.
Rough and scratchy.
Cracked and swollen.
But so incredibly soft.
I held that hand tight and walked after her.
“Did you have lunch?”
“Yeees… Dad made it.”
“Did he? What was it?”
“…Doenjang jjigae.”
“Oh my.”
Mom let out a little snort of laughter.
“How was it?”
“I-it was delicious.”
“Tsk. Noah. Moms have a superpower that lets them catch every lie their kids tell.”
Her index finger tapped my lips.
Then she opened her whole hand and gently stroked my cheek.
“Umm… i-it was bad.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Yeees… The soup was bland, the potatoes were undercooked… the tofu was all crumbled, and the meat was super tough… Hic… And the rice… was basically porridge… Ngh, hhk…”
“I see.”
Mom’s arms wrapped around me.
Warm air whooshed out of her puffy padding jacket.
“When we get home, Mom will make you something really delicious.”
“Hnn… mmm…”
I nodded and buried my face in Mom’s padding, where most of the fur had already worn away.
Just as my crying was starting to quiet down—
“Anyway, your dad… what did he say he was preparing this time?”
Shocking words popped out of Mom’s mouth.
“Hic… Y-yes…?”
“The day after tomorrow is our wedding anniversary. I’m scared what kind of disaster he’ll cause this time… Did he say anything special to you, Noah?”
“Ugh… ah…”
Mom’s arms gently pushed me back a little.
“It’s our twentieth… Did he at least blow up some balloons this time?”
“No…”
“I wonder if he bought a ring with the emergency money he saved up last time…”
“Uh…”
Mom looked at my face and grinned mischievously, then plopped a hot pack onto my hands.
“I wonder if your dad even knows my ring size.”
Then, humming a little tune as if she were having the time of her life, she walked slowly toward Dad’s car.
We ate dinner in the warm house.
I secretly picked out a ring with Dad behind Mom’s back.
When Dad suggested we all eat tangerines together, we came out to the living room and sat around the little table.
And while watching a somewhat tragic family documentary, I popped tangerine segments into Dad’s mouth as he fumed, and into Mom’s as she let out heavy sighs, then carefully opened my mouth.
“Dad.”
Dad, who had been chewing a tangerine that still had some peel left on it, gulped down the rest.
“Yeah.”
“If… if Mom and I fell into the water… you have to save Mom first. Okay?”
Dad’s eyebrows shot up.
“What’s this all of a sudden?”
Mom’s expression turned strange too.
“I… I take after you, so superhuman blood runs in me. So… you should save Mom first, since she’s an ordinary person.”
“Noah, what on earth are you talking about all of a sudden…?”
“I had… a scary dream yesterday. Hehe…”
I leaned over, linked arms with Mom, and breathed in the scent that always made me feel safe no matter when I smelled it.
Seeing that, Dad snorted a laugh and declared proudly,
“A real hero like your dad can save both of you, not some half-baked superhuman like you, Noah.”
Then he pulled Mom and me into his arms at once and shouted even more boldly,
“Don’t you worry. I’ll definitely save both of you.”
“…No, Dad… you have to save Mom.”
Strength tightened in Dad’s arms.
“Dad, you believe me, right?”
“Hic… hhk… No… even so… hhk, Dad has to save Mom—”
“It’s okay. Everything’s okay. No matter what happens, Dad will take care of it all, so our family just has to trust Dad.”
I glanced at Mom, who was slicing radish with skilled, rhythmic chops.
“Mom.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you… like helping people?”
Chop— Mom stopped her knife and looked at me.
“Why the sudden question?”
“Just… even now, you’re preparing side dishes for the neighbors next door.”
“Hmm…”
Mom picked up the knife again and began chopping once more, murmuring quietly with an unreadable smile.
“Honestly, I don’t particularly like it.”
“Then why do you do it…?”
“Because they need it.”
She tipped the neatly sliced radish into the pot right from the cutting board and pulled a big piece of meat out of the pressure cooker where it had been boiling.
“Because there are people who need even my small help.”
“But Mom… it’s hard on you.”
“In exchange, Mom is happy.”
Wearing plastic gloves, Mom tore the steaming meat into strips with a bright smile.
“When I open my eyes in the morning, when I’m working, when I come home, when I’m making dinner, before I sleep, even when I’m sick. Mom is always happy. Thanks to our family.”
Then she popped a nicely torn piece of meat into my mouth.
“It’s not domestic, but if you just think of this place as Australia, it’s Korean beef. How is it? Soft, right? Hehe.”
Mom, who always thought positively.
Mom, who didn’t blindly criticize others but tried to understand the reasons they had become that way.
Mom, who always smiled even when people criticized and ignored her because of the burns on her face.
Mom, who carefully came to my school wearing a mask, worried that I might get teased because of her.
Mom, who told me she loved me at least four times a day—morning, lunch, dinner, and before bed.
Mom, who found happiness in helping others.
Mom, who was quick to notice and always knew what I wanted, who sensed every single one of my worries before I even said them.
Mom, who took the phone I had used for two years and still smiled brightly, saying it was nice, that new products really were different.
My beloved mom.
“Mom.”
“Hmm? Want more?”
“…I love you.”
“…Yes. Mom loves you so much too, Noah.”
Careful not to let the plastic gloves touch her clothes, Mom hugged me, and I held her tight.
Just a little longer.
I wanted to feel this happiness just a little longer.
I didn’t want it to end.
“Let’s go to the neighbors’ together later, Mom.”