𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

While you were sleeping

ⓒ Baek Nara

Even though I had said I wouldn't explain anything, Carl kept asking questions incessantly. However, none of his questions were about <Jerome> or the photo bundle.

Carl faithfully adhered to the words he had firmly said the previous evening: <Don't ask.> As we crossed the courtyard to have breakfast, Carl's questions were mostly like, <Raymond, do you like vanilla ice cream?>

Unthinkingly, I stopped and turned to look at him. He looked up, following a step behind. Bewildered, I asked, <Why?> But Carl just shrugged instead of answering. <...I don't particularly like ice cream,> I replied. As soon as I said it, Carl's eyes lit up.

He asked excitedly again, <Do you prefer summer or winter?> Instead of answering, I just stared at him. Carl, smiling nonchalantly, didn't wait for an answer and walked ahead. Following behind him, I belatedly responded, <Summer.>

<1984 or Brave New World?>
<I haven't read either.>
<Then between Pride and Prejudice and Wuthering Heights?>

<Why do you ask...?> I answered Carl's question instead of finishing my sentence. It wasn't like he was going to answer my questions anyway.

<Wuthering Heights.>

<I prefer Pride and Prejudice.> Carl looked at me with a playful expression.

<Between Julia and Meg?>

I didn't answer. There was no need to tell him that Julia was my mother. Carl didn't mind the lack of response and kept asking questions.

<Do you prefer coffee or tea? Real Madrid or Barcelona? Dogs or cats? No, don't tell me! Let me guess.>

Carl rolled his eyes in thought before suddenly shouting, <Dogs! It must be dogs, right?>
Instead of answering, I just stared at him. The dazzling and intense summer morning sunlight shattered against his face. His attire was glaringly bright. He waited for my response with an undeniably mischievous look on his face. This time, I walked ahead of Carl.

<Neither. I prefer sheep.>

Behind me, Carl asked one last question, his voice calm.

<And sculpture?> he asked.

<Raymond, you're not really interested in sculpture, are you? You followed Judy for another reason, didn't you?> Carl asked.

I answered, <Yeah.>

Despite the final question and answer, the atmosphere between Carl and me remained soft and peaceful. It felt like ages since we'd had such a relaxed conversation without any tension. Carl's words had no hidden meanings, unlike the exchanges with George.

Carl pretended to be sulky and said, <So, you were never really interested in my sculptures?>

<Well...> I saw Carl's pouting face and couldn't help but chuckle. <But I meant the compliments, they're truly amazing.>

<Whatever. I don't believe you.>

<It's true...>

Carl pretended to be offended, shrugged off my arm, and quickly walked into the dining hall ahead of me. I couldn't stop smiling as I followed him inside. When I grabbed his collar and gently put my arm around his shoulder this time, I was startled. I had made eye contact with <Simon>, who was sitting alone in a corner of the dining hall, eating.

<Simon> put down the spoon he was about to bring to his mouth and stared at me intently. No, he wasn't looking at me. His gaze was fixed on Carl. Carl, oblivious to everything, was humming a strange melody while reading the menu.