The Waters That Hated

Old Tales

The next two days passed somewhat uneventfully - or at least, I didn't see much of what was happening. I stayed at our apartment and only went out to fetch some mountain water and cook soup for the next few days. So, every news I heard came from your grandmother. There had been some unrest because the well near Deiji's house wasn't the only one to have those strange yellow streaks in the water; other wells near the sea had also been contaminated. We sat together in the evening by an old oil lamp that smelled rancid and partially darkened the room with its smoke, casting a dim glow. She sat knitting and squinted to see the stitches, while I had already put you to bed in the adjacent room. Your father still hadn't returned, and slowly, anxiety began well up inside me. Was he in danger? Had they drifted away and landed in the South, where they had been executed? I needed him, I needed him so badly! Everything else was too terrible... I just needed him! And you, Joon-Ho, I needed you too!

"Have you heard what they're saying?" my mother suddenly asked, setting her knitting down on her lap.

She looked at me with a furrowed brow, as if she expected that I knew what she meant.

"No, what?"

"The wells, they've been poisoned. They were talking about it today in the gardens near the slopes. I just wanted to check on things, help out as one does, but everyone was in an uproar."

"What did they say?"

"I don't know, it mainly revolved around some things happening down by the shore that aren't very nice. Not nice at all. They say people from the South are responsible. They must have sneaked across the border. No one knows how many there are, but they must have poured something into the sea near the coast... They say people are getting more aggressive down there. Losing respect for each other. There have always been people who were just sick. People who were poisoned, not by something in the water, but by this place. By their lives..."

Her expression twisted, and she anxiously looked toward the front door, as if expecting someone to burst in and storm into the room.

"From the South? That's terrible!"

But it made sense. Who else would have contaminated the groundwater? Why else would something emerge from the wells that harmed us?

But the voices, why had I heard them? Did I also drink something that would harm me?

Of course, what she said... it troubled me. It troubled me because I knew it was true, even if I didn't want to believe it. This place, this city, something sick was here, slumbering beneath us, occasionally stretching its jaws to take one of us. But this country... It was the best in the world, wasn't it? At least, I thought so back then, even though my belief in it was slowly fading with every horror I experienced. The words my mother spoke... If someone had heard them, she would have been taken away. That's how it was back then. I know you probably can't even imagine that, Joon-Ho, but it was... like in a different world, where a different, terrible truth prevailed.

"People from the South... You've told me about them. They live like animals, don't care for each other. Let their children lie in the dirt. Eat each other. You always told me that. Where... where do you know that from?" I carefully asked.

"Old wives' tales," my mother said bitterly, "but there's truth in them, of course. The South is more rotten than this town could ever be. People there only live for themselves and are even poorer than we are. They're being drained, drained by the monsters in the West, who are draining everything there like leeches, secretive, devious. You know the border is close. Just fifteen kilometers away, and the South begins. Beyond the mountains. Beyond the electric fences and the minefields. It's not far. Someone could try to come here, unnoticed. Sneak in and harm us."