Traces and Storms

Final

I was surprised to wake up in a house bursting with life. The smell of breakfast filled the air, along with music coming from the vinyl player. It was one of Dad's French records which never failed to remind me of lazy spring mornings and pourover coffee. The sensation reminded me of that day, when Mom and Dad came home without telling me. Only this time, there was no fleeting sense to it. I felt that they would—finally—stay.

Mom was in the kitchen, facing the stove and stirring something in the pan with a silicone spatula. I hugged her from behind, and gently inhaled her scent. It still comforted me. Her scent did. It carried my limited childhood memories of her, along with this feeling of security and tranquility. It was the scent I missed, and yearned for, when the dreams haunted me at night and when all I wanted was to cry.

"Did you have a good rest?" she asked.

I hugged her tighter, and nodded.

"Your father's in the shed. You should greet him, too."

I smiled, let go of her, and headed to the backyard. Dad was indeed there, polishing the grill with Myungsoo, much to my surprise.

"Good morning," Dad greeted.

"Good morning," I replied. "Aren't you going to work today?"

"I asked for a holiday," he returned.

I nodded, unable to keep the smile hidden away from my face.

"Had a good sleep, princess?" Myungsoo teased.

"I did," I said. "Until I saw you."

My neighbor could only laugh at my comeback, while Dad gave me a warning look. Myungsoo winked at Dad, signaling him it was okay. The sky was clear that morning. Not a speck of cloud could be seen. Even the sunshine seemed hazy for a summer day. It neither stung nor felt sticky. What kept me from forgetting it was the hottest season of the year, was the cicadas' ceaseless chirping.

"Oh, and before I forget," Myungsoo's face lit up. "I want to show you something."

"What is it?"

"You'll see. Follow me."

I looked at Dad, and he smiled while gesturing that we should go on ahead. Myungsoo took the lead. We walked around our house, only to stop on the porch, where a row of succulents rested on the ledge. There were five plants altogether, each placed in a white, fragile pot. All had different shapes, but what caught my eyes were the rose-shaped succulent, and the heart-shaped one.

"I asked my mom to help me out with these," Myungsoo tentatively said. "I figured it would do your room some good."

I glanced at him, and smiled. "Thank you."

"Although," he added. "Low-maintenance plants aren't enough to make up for everything I did."

"It's a good place to start," I reassured him. "So, thank you."

We were silent for a while, and Myungsoo finally opened up that Soojung had left. He said he knew, because she was kind enough to give his final goodbye to Taek. I said I was aware of that, because she dropped by in my ward.

"As for the orphanage," Myungsoo began. "Do you still want to know what happened to it?"

"I still haven't asked my mom."

"Do you want to know, though?"

I tilted my head and looked at him, straight in the eye. "I think...I'll get into it when I'm ready."

Myungsoo smirked. "But of course. Do you want to take a walk?"

-::-

We took our time ambling through the streets all too familiar to us. Without a word, our feet led us to the abandoned station, its debris sparkling against the sun. Myungsoo would—to break the comfortable silence—point at ruins and tell me what it used to be back in the days.