How to Be Human [EDITING]

31 | patchwork of a person

31

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THE SUMMER OF 2007
The Cycle Continues

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Wednesday evening is the start of a nightmare. Narae sits lax in the front seat while John maneuvers the wheel—the car mutedly grumbling as it drives on. There is an occasional squeak as they turn, the faint hum of a radio station, and nothing more.

(An apology from his parents never comes. Jisung isn't surprised.)

The air is thick as can be; partially due to the unbearable heat of Marino Hills; and partially due to the tension in the atmosphere. A part of Jisung wants to tear his lungs from his ribcage and drown the organs in the heavyweight atmosphere. He thinks he'd like to watch his lungs deflate and his blood drip into the car's floorboards, staining the carpet crimson.

He wonders if his mother would get the message, then.

Jisung isn't sure if this is how families are supposed to feel. It must be normal to feel as though he's drowning in the suffocating silence, because no matter how hard he kicks, he keeps sinking. His heart is tethered to an anchor meant to hold a steamboat down.

He tries not to think about it.

After a year of unsettling quiet, they arrive at a home not so unlike his own. It's big, and it's white, and it's intimidating...but it's perfect.

There's a glazed wooden door, a black knocker, and a red-lipped Narae with a bottle of wine in her hands.

"Stacy-Anne! So good to see you!" Narae smiles, pulling a woman with short, sandy blonde hair into a tight hug. She steps back, holding her hands out for the other to shake.

Stacy-Anne is a beautiful woman with a bright-white smile and a contagious laugh. She seems kind, and sweet, and welcoming, and nothing like Jisung expects. This is Leon Smith's mother. The Leon Smith's mother.

This is the woman who raised the person who planted a bomb and destroyed his family. How can he trust her? How can he feel anything but anger and resentment towards her?

Jisung feels a little sick.

"Nora, darling! Goodness, it's been too long!" Stacy-Anne laughs. They exchange alternating kisses to the air that's really meant for their cheeks.

Jisung doesn't get it. Doesn't get how Americans who pretend they can't pronounce his mother's name default to calling her 'Nora'.

There's a part of Jisung that's angry. There's a part of him that's bitter, and it's burning a hole in his stomach. It's acid, and it's corrosive, and it's eating away at him.

It's an ache that settles deep inside of his chest.

"It has, it has!" Narae exclaims. "I've been a terrible friend. I really must apologize."