In the realm of dreams

Part 17: Parents and Children

Baek Yoona

'Appa, you need to eat something.' I said as I passed a bowl of japchae to my father who sat in front of the TV almost dozing off.

He sat up a bit straighter and took the bowl from me. We haven't been had a decent conversation in ages what with me coming home late from training and him often taking night shifts. Seemed he has got a few days break from nightshift – he look too tired. The rest would do him good I hope.

Seeing as it was a rare evening that both of us were home I made an effort to make some japchae – much healthier than ramyun. We chomped through our noodles whilst some B-grade celebrity was trying not to get overrun by a tractor on TV.

'How's school?' he asked.

'School's good. I am doing study sessions as well'. Then, in an attempt to share something exciting about my new life I added, 'I have made quite a few good friends in this school. Appa, they are really nice. And guess what, I will be playing the main lead in the schoolplay. We have been rehearsing for a couple of weeks and the play will be stage in July.'

'Good, good', Appa said as he opened a can of baekchu. His eyes were starting to take on that cloudy that meant he was slowly retreating into his private, grief-filled world. His hands shook a little as they held the beer can. The drinking had been pretty bad for a few years now. Perhaps it was better if he worked night shift. At least that meant he wouldn't drink so much at night.

'Appa, will you come and watch the play?', I asked. Maybe if he saw for himself how well I have settled into my new school, met my friends, he could become a part of my world again.

He murmured something which sounded like a non-committal yes to me and settled down on the sofa, no doubt for a night of heavy drinking and hoping to pass out drunk. If we were still as close we were when mum was alive, I would have asked him if the drink helped dull the pain. Did it lessen his grief or did it merely make him momentarily forget its existence? Did it manage to let in some sunshine in his otherwise grey skies?

Seeing him slip into a self-inflicted oblivion made sad for trying to live a normal life. Was I a pretender and a big hypocrite for trying to have a normal high-school life? Was I being unfair to my dad because I was laughing with my friends knowing full well my father's life was devoid of joy?

My appa, a broken man. He loved so strongly that the loss his loved one broke him into a million pieces. Perhaps he gave his love too much hold on his life and without that love he didn't know what to hold on to. I didn't know if I had the strength to fix him. The least I could do for my sanity was try not to be broken myself.

I put a light blanket on him and rushed out of the house, grabbing my backpack. The convenience store owner was stacking the front shelves with boxes of ramyun.

'Sajangnim, do you have any ice-cream?', I asked him settling down on one of the window seats.

'Only the cup ones.'

He put a banana-flavoured ice cream cup in front of me. I took out my notebook and wrote down a promise and a poem.

When I love, it will be like a river

Not like a blazing, exploding star

Through every bend, high and low

The water will find a way to flow.

As will my love.

Some days it will swell up and spill onto the shores

Other days it will be content flowing in its pre-destined path

No I won't love like a star.

For stars die.

By the time I finished the ice-cream had melted.

Choi Sooho

Most people found the bright lights of a 24-hour convenience store too harsh. I didn't mind them – a lot of light was a good way to overcome the darkness. I had brought my sketchpad to the store so that I could draw in peace. Eomma was getting on my nerves. I couldn't risk her finding out about my sketches – she would have another go at me.

There was only so much of shouting I could take. I made a mistake by telling her I had been selected for the school play. I thought, foolishly perhaps, that she might be happy for me.

'Play? You don't need any more extra-curricular you already have sports', she said as she tidied the dinner table.

'It will be good for me Eomma, it's a good example of working in a group. Colleges would approve of it.'

'Choi Sooho, don't take me for a fool. You are just finding more excuses to hang out with your friends', she spat out the word 'friends'. 'You spend too much time with your friends when all you need to think about is your studies with the CSAT coming up in a few months.'

I thought that would be all for the night. But she kept nagging. 

'You have too many distractions. Sports, play, study sessions with a girl,' her accusation was clearly implied. She had a problem with me hanging out with Yoona.

The air in the apartment was heavy with the odour of our recent dinner and something bitter. I had to get out.

At this time of the night there weren't many people at the store, so I concentrated on my sketch without any distraction. I made rapid strokes and soon Yoona began to appear on the blank paper in front of me. A vision in her school uniform, her long hair falling like velvet framed her face as she was mid-speech during the play auditions. In reality there had been other people around her on stage, but in my sketch I have conveniently omitted them, shining the spotlight only on Yoona. I started adding some complementary elements, like stage floor, background. The bell sounded 'ting' as someone came into the store. I looked up from my sketchbook to see that somehow Yoona had stepped out of my sketch and materialised in front of me in human form.

She chatted with the store owner for a few minutes, her expression tired. She seemed distracted and dropped her backpack as she took a window seat on the other side of the store.

I observed her for a few minutes. She scribbled something on a notebook, looking out to the night from time to time. Was she escaping from something at home too?

'It is a known fact that in summer, ice-creams melt quickly', I said going over to her side.

She was startled but soon relaxed and her lips curled into a familiar smile.

'Banjang, what a surprise'!

'Wrote a poem? Care to share?'

'Maybe one day I will, but just not yet.' She motioned for me to take the seat beside her.

'What have you got there? A sketchbook?', she said turning to face me.

When I nodded, she asked 'Drew something? Care to share?'

'Maybe one day', I gave her answer back to her with a smile.

She tossed her head back and laughed, 'Fair dos. Ice-cream meoggo sip-eo'?

It was a good thing summer nights were long, potent with the sweetness of promise.

For a while we sat with our ice-creams in front of us, sometimes speaking up with any thoughts or observations but mostly wrapped in our silences and whatever plight plagued our hearts. Words were good but sometimes all you needed was a companion who was content to sit by your side, listening to the same silent symphony. 

Later, much later, I walked her home.