Moonbow - a short novel [Completed]

6.

“What happened?” Yoo-jin asked. There was little I could do to hide my trauma yet I tried to subdue my shaking under the blanket. I didn’t want any prying from the elders. Haraboji sat on the wicker chair, a bandage over his left eye, while Halmoni stopped leaning halfway with a bottle of eye drop in her hand. “What happened?” both echoed Yoo-jin’s concern.

“She fell…” Min-woo attempted to explain but I cut him off, “I tripped while retrieving a trinket in the river. Nothing serious.” I went over to Haraboji’s side and touched his arm. “I’m so sorry for not being here. How are you feeling?”

The old man smiled, “My child, I’m feeling better. Soon I’ll see your beautiful face more clearly.”

Halmoni pulled out a yellow cardigan from the cabinet and said, “My dear, you have to change your clothes.”

I went into the bathroom and changed, relieved with the temporary escape. I could hear whispers and movements in the kitchen but Min-woo’s voice remained unheard. The heat inside the bathroom soothed my nerves, finally calming me down. In front of the mirror, I disentangled my wet hair and started drifting away. How do I tell the elders? Why was it so hard to say good-bye? After fixing myself and making sure I looked okay, I came out. The two elders alone in the kitchen held me under a close scrutiny again.

“Yoo-jin asked Min-woo to go with him to the drug store. I forgot to get some gauge,” Halmoni said.

I pulled a chair and sat beside Haraboji. “I have something to tell you.” I turned to Halmoni and saw her face turning blank.

Good-byes used to be easy. I grew up with people coming in and out of my life as if it was the most natural thing in the world. My mother who had raised and left me taught me nothing in this world was permanent. I learned to give my heart but never allowed others to take it away. Separation withdrawal, I hardly had gone through one. Maybe I was built this way, because I never had anything more genuine than Haraboji and Halmoni’s love. After telling them about my plans, a wall of silence slowly separated us. I hugged both of them, a regret gnawing inside not knowing when I would see them again. I opened the car door amid a stifled cry.

“Ga-seuk’s not taking it well,” Halmoni said behind me.

I turned around and saw her drying her own tears. “I’m sorry.” My arms fit around her body just right. I wanted to hold her this way forever. “It’s going to be okay, Halmoni.” It was my first real heartbreak.

“Don’t you want to wait for Min-woo?”

“I’ve told him good-bye earlier,” I lied.

“What did he say?”

What would he say if I had told him? “He just wished me well.” The second lie didn’t come easier.

“Come back to us.”

I drew a deep breath. “I will.”

I drove past through Min-woo and Yoo-jin on the way to the main road. The rear mirror showed both of them facing the back of my vehicle, Yoo-jin with one outstretched hand. Min-woo had a puzzled look but I told myself it was irrelevant; there was no turning back. I stepped on the clutch and sped on toward my new life. The road trip felt longer than the usual. My vision blurred, and I had to rub my eyes from time to time to get rid of the tears. I spent the entire trip reviving the cold-hearted person that I once was but in vain. The elders’ tears were expected, but the pain it gave me was unprecedented. At one point I pulled over and cried my heart out. I had to deal with this reality first. Everything was temporary from the beginning, I had known, so I had no one to blame that I was hurting this much. My relationships with Haraboji and Halmoni, my feelings for Min-woo, they made me feel the sun again. I was, after all, a human, with a streak of happy tantrums, still able to fall in love at the drop of a hat. These thoughts made me feel alive. Soo-mi once said we meet people for a reason, that there are no accidents or coincidences. Perhaps they were the beautiful destiny written on my palm.