2.1 | The Better Half and Half ✓

TWENTY ONE>> Explanations Need Energy

TWENTY ONE| Explanations Need Energy | CHOI HANUEL

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"No, I can't understand what was so sensitive in joining up the two wires." I didn't mean to make him feel bad but my fingers curled around the device vehemently. "The yellow one was to be attached in the main panel and the red one, well──"

"Hanuel-ah, it's a lost cause trying to tame a clumsy guy," Uncle Mojo whiffed and smoothened Mario's hair that slept on his lap at peace. His lustrous brown hair was soft like cotton in between his fingers.

"Kim Namjoon, I had high expectations from you. But no problem, I guess that's how it was supposed to end. Ya, see you soon." After ending the call, my phone landed on the mattress.

"Why were you telling him off as if he was already engaged to Molan and was unsure about marrying her? No. I think we just bid on the wrong horse and the race is over eventually."

"We have to bring his fault in sharp focus, so next time when he chances upon us, he should know who has to avoid whose gaze."

Before I could get on my soapbox, I glanced over my shoulder and a small smile ticked my lips upwards as Somi entered through the door with a servant. The four-year-old would occasionally run toward Mario and play with him until her interest leaped to another thing, or would pat his head just like the girl who took immense care of her puppy in one of Somi's storybooks. But today, she looked sterile.

I squatted down and saw big tears brimming in her small eyes. Her face evoked a confused expression on our faces. Uncle Mojo disturbed Mario's sleep by placing him on the floor. He then watched the dog gyrate around Somi and lick her legs before springing out of the room.

"Somi, why are crying?" She melted in my arms and when I looked up at the servant, I was greeted by a large piece of paper.

She gave it in my hands solemnly. "Somi has made a drawing of herself with her Mum and . . . Dad." Suddenly that rectangular sheet outweighed the heap of the problems that I had been carrying on my shoulders so far.

Her round head thumped against my chest and I hugged her tightly. And for one moment as I flew with the spate of emotions, I found myself molding in her mother's frame. "Somi, crying is not good for your health. Let's go and get your face splashed with water."

I turned to look at Uncle Mojo whose silence gave an account of how shattered his heart must have been.

"Unnie, where is Appa? Whenever I ask Eomma about him she says he doesn't exist, and never talks about him." Her rumbles from the tiny stomach and pink nose from crying shot a shiver down my spine.

"Dad exists. It's just that he is having trouble finding his way home. You know due to so many pedestrians and cars on the streets, he is taking his time," I made up a scenario and rubbed her tears with my thumbs; she shivered.

"My art teacher asked me about him and when I shook my head, the entire class laughed at me," she blubbered out and that sound pierced our eardrums. At that backdrop, she began hitting her hands involuntarily, as if I was her enemy who didn't ponder about the problem from her perspective. But, who could make her understand that I too wanted to help the feeble girl so bad? She just wanted to see her Dad in person.