A Reason to Hope
Click.
"Hello, Uncle."
(Hyeong-seok? You been keeping well?)
"Of course. Nothing new with you?"
Kang Hyeong-seok carried on the call from the middle of a hopelessly jammed lane of cars, his tone as good as saying, Take your time, we're not going anywhere.
(Right. Well, nothing much.)
"You don't sound quite yourself, though."
(I'll be. You've become a proper working man, haven't you. No, wait — I mean, does this sort of thing, er, fascinate you or something?)
Kang Hyeong-seok burst out laughing and shook his head.
"What are you talking about? It's nothing like that."
(R-really? Well, anyway, it's nothing major — I just have something to ask.)
"Yes, yes. Go ahead."
(So here's the thing. One of our heavy-equipment operators seems a little off. Keeps saying he feels unwell.)
"Then he ought to see a doctor."
He gave the commonsense answer — but what came back from his uncle sat a little outside the bounds of common sense.
(Well, of course he's been to the hospital. They said nothing's seriously wrong with him.)
"Ah... is that so?"
(You know your way around this sort of thing, so I'm asking just in case.)
Kang Hyeong-seok glanced at the ETA on his navigation, then at the frozen line of traffic, and exhaled through his nose. Then he pushed the breath out between his teeth and spoke.
"You do know what happened to him, don't you?"
It was not the tone of a worried nephew. It was the voice of a man feeling out a diagnosis, and his uncle understood that difference perfectly.
(That's right! Bless you, Hyeong-seok.)
Kang Hyeong-seok scratched at his eyebrow, sheepish, as his uncle's voice went on.
(Turns out, at one of his earlier sites, they uprooted a tree.)
"Don't heavy-equipment operators do that sort of thing all the time?"
(Fair point! But apparently that tree was one of those trees, if you take my meaning.)
Damn it.
Kang Hyeong-seok let out a careful sigh, keeping the sound out of the phone, and furrowed his brow.
"What kind of tree?"
(I couldn't get specifics, but they say it was an old one.)
Kang Hyeong-seok shut his lips tight and took one long breath through his nose — less out of irritation than because his thoughts had turned heavy.
"Uncle, is he very sick?"
(Oh, just numbness in all four limbs and blood pouring from his nose. Fellow doesn't touch a drop, and every so often his eyes go bloodshot red anyway.)
"Sounds like it could be Dongti."
(Dongti? What's that?)
Steering along with the traffic that was finally beginning to loosen, Kang Hyeong-seok explained.
"It's the illness that finds a man when he does something forbidden."
(Is it serious?)
It could be. But nothing of that sort had happened yet, which might well mean it hadn't reached a severe stage.
"Later on, ask him whether there was anything like a rope tied around that tree."
He put it that way so as not to needlessly alarm his uncle, and the answer came back at once.
(He says no. Just an old tree, he says.)
If so, thank goodness. Had it been a tree with a Geumjul wound around it, as Kang Hyeong-seok had half feared, this could have spiraled into genuine catastrophe — because then it would have been a Seonang tree, a guardian of the village itself. Uproot one of those, and no one would blink at a man's bloodline ending, or his life with it.
"It's a small mercy, all told, but it could still be a sacred tree, or one with something dwelling in it. If an angry god is behind it, a proper offering rite will settle things."
(An offering rite? Now what's that? Throw jargon at me and I'm lost...)
"Ah, uh, um — he'll want to visit a village shrine."
(Oh? Er, right.)
"But don't just take him to any shrine."
His uncle knew nothing of this world. It would be luck itself to find a legitimate shrine on the first try, and the odds of failure were every bit as plentiful as the fake shrines out there.
"You remember the shamans who came by the hospital, don't you? I'll ask them to point you to a shrine they trust."
(Haah! Thank you, Hyeong-seok.)
Kang Hyeong-seok was about to end the call when something suddenly surfaced in his memory, and he spoke up.
"Uncle, would it be all right if I asked one more favor?"
(Of course! Name anything. Anything.)
"You know what company I work for, right?"
(I do, I do.)
This was a delicate favor to raise, so Kang Hyeong-seok bit his lip once and chose his words with care.
"I've been hoping to make a connection with a construction company. I wondered if you might be able to build me a bridge."
(Ah. Is that so...?)
The voice wavered. He had braced for it, so it didn't sting.
"Please don't feel pressured. Just keep it in mind — and if the opportunity ever comes up, or you happen to know somewhere worth introducing me to, that's when I'll ask."
(Right, that much I can manage. No — of course I will. Look at everything you've done for me.)
A faint smile had just touched Kang Hyeong-seok's lips—
(Actually, hold on. Hyeong-seok.)
"Yes, Uncle?"
(You know what? Tomorrow when I'm at work, I'll look into it properly. Even just raising it with the man in charge might do you some good, no?)
His uncle had turned around and thrown himself into it.
"Are you sure that's no trouble?"
(If it weren't for you, would I even be chatting this comfortably on the phone?)
"Uncle..."
(Am I the sort who'd just push my own nephew around? You helped me like it was your own affair, so I'll treat this like mine. Understood?)
"Thank you."
(And thanks again for the other night. You heading home from work?)
"Yes. On my way home now."
(Get in safe! I'll call you again tomorrow.)
The call ended, and Kang Hyeong-seok stared straight ahead through eyes that, oddly enough, felt clearer. If things broke right, this looked like a situation where allowing himself a little hope wouldn't hurt.
The call he had expected around lunchtime didn't come until well past two in the afternoon. Honestly? It would have been a lie to say he wasn't disappointed.
"Cheer up, Section Chief Kang."
Shin Jeong-ah came over grinning, as though she found the new title itself amusing. They were in the rooftop break room, where the dingy sky — today every bit as glum as his mood — lay spread out in plain view.
"Oh, come on. I'm fine."
"Fine, my foot. The disappointment's plain as day on your face."
"If it fell through, I figured he'd at least have the decency to tell me it fell through."
Perhaps his deflation tugged at her, because Shin Jeong-ah smoothed the laughter from her face and thumped him on the back.
"Hey, hey — chin up. Chin up. Sales was always built on leaning on family, wasn't it?"
"It's just that this is a first for me."
"Did I never tell you? I had a friend who did insurance sales for a while."
This was news to him, so Kang Hyeong-seok settled in to listen.
"Sweetest girl you'd ever meet. And well — insurance sales isn't easy for anyone. So apparently she worked up the nerve to ask her relatives to at least sit through a consultation. Want to guess how that went?"
"How did it go?"
"She promised to walk them through everything, and every last one of them backpedaled. 'Not today, this has come up.' 'Not tomorrow, that's come up.'"
Kang Hyeong-seok could imagine exactly how her friend must have felt, and smiled a wry smile.
"In the end she couldn't stomach it and quit the insurance company. And what do you know — the relatives came calling again, quick as ghosts. Even family you've known since you were kids, huh."
Kang Hyeong-seok sipped his coffee, his face sour, and nodded. He understood — the friend's heart, and the relatives dodging her calls alike. Desperation or burden, neither was a welcome feeling, and in that they were one and the same.
"Still, yesterday's call ended on such a good note that I'd let myself hope a little."
"Shake it off. Don't go holding it against your uncle."
"I'm not."
"Not, he says. Your face is a storm cloud."
Shin Jeong-ah set a cigarette between her lips and tipped her head back toward the sky. Black clouds crowded it from edge to edge; rain could break loose any minute and surprise no one.
"Should we sweet-talk the Department Head into a team dinner tonight? Looks like rain — how about a jeon house?"
"A team dinner?"
"Come on, it's perfect. A rainy day and a jeon house. You tear the scallion pancake into strips like so, and — clink! — straight down with the makgeolli!"
Shin Jeong-ah mimed tearing into a pancake with theatrical flair. He knew full well she was doing it to chase off his gloom. Kang Hyeong-seok gave a short nod and a wry smile, and she dealt his shoulder a light smack.
And that was the moment.
BANG!
The door burst open and up came Kwak Young-ho, white as a sheet.
"Assistant Manager Kang! No — wait, Section Chief Kang! Hey!"
"Yes, Department Head!"
Anyone could see something urgent had broken loose; Kang Hyeong-seok snapped to attention — and then—
"What did you do? There was a call — they were asking for you!"
It came with no beginning and no end, and while Kang Hyeong-seok turned to Shin Jeong-ah, bewildered, Kwak Young-ho rubbed his forehead and tried again.
"Ah, damn. Uh! No — wait."
"Department Head, deep breaths."
Unable to watch any longer, Shin Jeong-ah cut in, and Kwak Young-ho fished out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long drag. Then, looking calmer than before, he opened his mouth.
"Whew! Section Chief Kang — that place you mentioned yesterday. Was it Shinjin Construction?"
"I'm sorry?"
"You brought it up with me yesterday — about trying to make something happen. Is that the one? Shinjin Construction?"
Shinjin Construction was one of those firms whose name turned heads anywhere — bigger, even, than the companies this firm had once tried, at the corporate level, to crack. At the news that such a place had called, Kang Hyeong-seok's brow knit.
"I do know someone who works there, but... why do you ask?"
"Because they called!"
"What?"
"Get ready for a business trip! Now! They called saying they want to see you!"
"What?"
"I said hurry and get ready! Go!"
Kang Hyeong-seok, dazed, had only just started toward the beckoning Kwak Young-ho—
Thump!
Shin Jeong-ah, who had shoved him forward from behind, raised a thumb. Nothing was certain yet — but all the same, it seemed like a moment worth hoping in. Before he could even turn to her, Kwak Young-ho seized him by the wrist, then all but bounded down the stairs, only letting go when he ran out of breath.
"Hah — hah! Section Chief Kang, openings like this don't come around twice, so do well out there — and have a good trip!"
"Yes, sir!"
To the sprinting Kang Hyeong-seok, Kwak Young-ho fired off a double thumbs-up before sagging forward, hands on his knees, wheezing.
Thunk!
Having thrown his preparations together in record time, Kang Hyeong-seok opened his phone and pulled up the text Kwak Young-ho had sent. The address he needed was in it, so he punched it into the navigation as his destination.
Vroom.
Even with the engine running and the road unspooling ahead, his face said he hadn't the faintest idea what was happening.
Shinjin Construction asked for me?
The moment he merged into traffic, Kang Hyeong-seok dialed his uncle.
"Uncle!"
(Huh? Oh! Hyeong-seok.)
"I'm on my way to the Shinjin Construction head office right now. Was this you, Uncle?"
(Huh? Huh?)
Why was his uncle reacting like that?
"You said yesterday you'd look into it. Who on earth did you talk to?"
(Oh, no, no. I only mentioned it to the site manager, a few of the foremen, and a handful of the head-office staff.)
So he had been remarkably diligent about spreading the word. But it hardly seemed reason enough for Shinjin Construction to come calling.
"But the head office is the one that called. You're sure you don't know anything?"
(Uh — er — hold on. Give me a second to think!)
"Take your time."
Perhaps it truly was a question worth thinking hard about; his uncle stayed silent all the way until Kang Hyeong-seok entered the expressway. In the meantime, the crackle of walkie-talkies and the grind of heavy industrial machinery bled through the line.
(Ah — could that be it?)
"What is it?"
(Well — you remember the tainted-liquor incident?)
"I remember."
(Because of that, head-office staff came down and did some kind of review.)
"...A review?"
(Well, someone did end up in the hospital, didn't they. They ran safety trainings, and a notice came down telling everyone not to be sharing things like that liquor around.)
Kang Hyeong-seok's eyes thinned, and he ran his tongue across a canine. Somehow, a thread was beginning to form. A corporation the size of Shinjin Construction wouldn't put stock in shamanism — who summons shamans at a hospital? If anything, they'd sooner hold it against him than thank him for the help.
They can't be calling me in to rake me over the coals. If that were the case, the Department Head's reaction would have been different.
The story must have reached them through intermediaries. Which left room for misunderstanding — but a man like Department Head Kwak Young-ho wasn't one to fall for that kind of thing easily.
"Was his name Mr. Kim? The man in the container."
(Right. Mr. Kim, that's the one.)
"It might be about my helping him, then."
(Ah!)
His uncle gasped, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him either. It had been Kang Hyeong-seok who loaded his uncle and father into a car and drove to the container to help Mr. Kim, who had lost consciousness after drinking the tainted liquor — and he who had smashed the window, slipped inside, and opened the door. If they had called to put in a good word for that, then Kwak Young-ho's reaction made rough sense after all.
"Either way, a door has opened. I'll take it from here. Thank you, Uncle."
(Thank me for what? What did I even do?)
"You asked around everywhere for me."
Kang Hyeong-seok meant every word. But the sentiment didn't quite land; his uncle grew flustered.
(No, come on. All I did was drop a hint here and there.)
"It is true, though. Anyway, I'm driving right now, so—"
(Ah, right, right! Drive safe!)
"Will do. I'll go in and find out."
Beep.
Call ended, Kang Hyeong-seok drummed his index finger on the wheel and drew in a long breath.
Let's make this count.
One way or another, a point of contact with Shinjin Construction had been made. All he had to do was seize this chance and hold on. If it went well, it would be a boon for the company — and for me.
"Hoooooh!"
Just as he let the breath out to shake off the tension—
Tap, patter, pitter-patter-patter!
The sky, choked with dark clouds, finally began to hurl down fat sheets of rain.