Clash of Colors

Goodbye Again

"Mom!"

Rubbing his arm to comfort him, she explained, "Your aunt is devastated. If she becomes unstable, she'll have another breakdown. She may never get better."

"How is she any better?!" he argued. "Her daughter is dead! Namjoo...is Namjoo. What can she do for her?"

"I know, I know," his mother agreed soothingly. "But she may be able to help her move on. We're not telling Namjoo to go recklessly. They're a good family."

"You can't use her like this!" He couldn't stop raising his voice. Upset.

"We'll talk with her. I won't force her if she doesn't want to go." His mother promised. Her conflicted eyes sympathetically stared up into his. Embracing him into her arms. Gently patting his back. "I know how you feel. I'm sorry."

ϞϞϞϞϞ

"Mom, please." The man she had been left alone with touched the elder woman's shoulder tenderly. "Let her go."

Still crying sorrowfully into her shoulder, she refused to release her. The tears were soaking through her dress. The perfume was overpowering tingling her senses. No longer able to smell the fresh hint of flower wafting through the home. Namjoo didn't know what to do. It seemed even rude trying to pull away from this broken woman's arms. Yet she was becoming uncomfortable. Her lower legs were tensing from kneeling.

Where had everyone gone?

Voices erupted behind her. Someone leaned over to touch the woman's shoulder. "All right. All right. We're going to talk to Chunhei for a second, honey."

Leaning away the sobbing aunt looked up at her husband. "Where are you taking her?"

"Just to talk," her husband explained. Meeting her eyes, he nodded as a signal for her to get up.

Namjoo was yanked back down by the woman when she tried. "No! Don't go, Chunhei! Where are you going? Please stay."

"We're going to get some water," Sehun's father came over to say gently. Touching her other arm to help pull her up. "Just in the next room."

"Honey, why are you letting them take our daughter?" she cried to her husband.

"No, no. She's going with me. We're going to talk," her husband repeated patiently. Looking at his son, he gestured for him to sit down. "Stay with your mother."

"Chunhei. Chunhei!" Sehun's aunt cried out when his father led her out of the living room.

"Are you ok?" his father worried as she limped.

"It's ok." Namjoo said then looked at them curiously.

"In here." Opening a closed door to a homey office furnished with more bookshelves and a single table loaded up with a desktop computer. "Sit down."

Taking a seat in one of the brandished chairs, Namjoo put her hands on her lap. Awkward.

"This is Sehun's uncle," his father introduced. "He's been around the country as a foreign service officer."

Park Jaejin. Early 50's. His head was full of thinning gray hair. Was nowhere as tall as Sehun and his father. The wide forehead of his was filled with creases but his eyes were a soft brown color. Giving off the vibe of a father who went to ball games on the weekend with his son. Also, Park Hyunjae who held a doctorate degree in biology had stayed behind to start his career. Taller than his father. On the skinny side like his mother.

Namjoo gave him a curt nod as a late greeting.

"That's my daughter." He slid out a family photo from his wallet. Father, mother, son, daughter.