‘Go home and play,’ Bugeye’s mother would say, ‘Your big brother and I are working.’
As far as she could see, now that his father was gone, the little guy figured he had to earn his keep, and she felt sorry for him. She told him repeatedly to go home, but Baldspot didn’t say a word and just kept gathering up the items that Bugeye had tossed back and putting them into baskets. Hard Hat, who’d taken over as crew leader, scolded them at first, warning Bugeye’s mother to keep Baldspot away from there, but eventually he gave up as well and told her to make sure that all he was doing was helping Bugeye and to keep him off the trash heaps. Bugeye’s mother fashioned a clean towel into a mask for Baldspot, and stuffed his hands into a pair of work gloves, the palms of which were coated with a red laminate. When she was done, he looked like a proper little trash picker. By the time the afternoon and evening shifts were over, it was as dark as midnight. Ever since the Baron had been carted off, Bugeye and Baldspot had stopped sneaking away to eat, and began joining their mother for meals.
That night, Bugeye’s mother had just finished setting the table.
‘Where’s your little brother?’ she asked. ‘Go find him quick.’
‘He was with us earlier. I didn’t see him leave the site.’
‘He must’ve gone to the church. They’ve been giving away all sorts of things lately.’
‘But he hasn’t been there in a long time …’
‘Well, I’m going into town tomorrow. His father’s being transferred to the prison, so I should visit him before that happens.’
She sat down at the table and gazed at Bugeye.
‘I wonder what’s become of your father,’ she said, her voice trailing off. ‘Anyway, things should get better soon. I’m planning to switch to the private sector.’
‘With what money?’
His mother brightened and said, ‘I’ll find a way.’
The two of them went ahead and ate without Baldspot. Afterwards, Bugeye went into their room and lit a candle: there, in the middle of the floor, were Baldspot’s gloves, mask, and torn work shirt. As he picked up the gloves, something occurred to him, and he left the shack. He hurried along the path that cut through the centre of the shantytown and passed the new rows of motley shacks thrown together from plastic and cardboard. Past the field covered in dry grass and over the hill he went, then across the ridged paddies and down towards the river’s edge. When he arrived at the hideout, it was dark, and there was no sign of anyone about. Where had that kid gone? Bugeye lit a candle, sat down and covered his legs with the sleeping bag that Mole and his gang had stashed there, and waited blankly, little puffs of down from the torn sleeping bag floating around him.
As it turned out, Baldspot had left the dumpsite by himself, stopped by the shack to drop off his work gear, and then headed to the hideout alone. The whole time he’d been working, he had not been able to get the Mr. Kims and their mysterious village out of his mind, and had decided he just had to find that child again. Since it was after dark, he knew the dokkaebi would appear, as they always did, in the silver grass that grew on the banks of the river near the hideout. He hunkered down in front of the hideout and peered this way and that into the dark. He’d been sitting there for quite some time, with no sign of their tell-tale floating blue lights, when suddenly a shadow appeared on the slope below. It slowly made its way towards him and revealed itself to be the child. Baldspot ran towards it in excitement.
‘I couldn’t wait to see you!’ he shouted.
The child stepped neatly to the side, dodging Baldspot’s outstretched arms, nearly causing him to fall flat on his face. The child kept its distance, and greeted Baldspot with a smile.
‘I thought you might be looking for me,’ the child said.
‘I want to go back to where you live.’
The child laughed, and didn’t respond.
‘Grandfather told me to show you something good,’ the child said instead.
He gestured for Baldspot to follow, and vanished. A blue light appeared up ahead, so Baldspot ran to catch up to it. It kept gliding away from him, then stopping, then gliding away again. Baldspot climbed the hill, but instead of taking the path back to the shantytown, he followed the ridgeline, making his way up and down along the mountain’s curves. He eventually came around the corner of the shantytown and found himself right next to the dumpsite; the last work shift had been over for some time, and all of the heavy equipment had been taken away. No one was around. The blue light didn’t stop. It floated right over to the middle of the trash, which was covered with a damp blanket of fill dirt. Bits and ends of discarded items stuck out here and there, and Baldspot’s feet sank in where the earth had not been tamped down well. The child’s shadow reappeared.
‘There’s something here,’ the child said.
Baldspot squatted down and dug up the soil with his bare hands. The tip of a plastic sack tied shut with a ribbon emerged. He gave it a tug, and it pulled free from the soil like a tiny sapling. ‘What is this?’ he asked as he turned to look at the child, who was now suddenly far away and speaking to him from across a great distance.
‘Take care. We’ll meet again.’
The child faded, then vanished. Baldspot untied the ribbon and groped inside the bag. He could feel something wrapped in newspaper and something else that felt like soft, smooth fabric. He tore the newspaper with his fingernails and ran his finger over whatever was inside. It felt like small rectangles of paper tied together. He looked around at the darkness and hurried back the way he’d come.
Back at the hideout, Bugeye was dozing off under the sleeping bag when he heard someone tiptoeing around outside. He pulled open the plastic door and called out, ‘Baldspot? Is that you?’
Baldspot let out a short shriek. ‘Hyung! You scared me.’
‘What’re you doing just standing there? Where were you? You skipped dinner.’
‘The light was on. I didn’t know it was you … I was afraid to go inside.’
They went in and sat down. Bugeye pointed at the bag.
‘What is that? Food?’
‘I don’t know. I found it and brought it back here so I could take a closer look.’
Baldspot turned the bag upside down and dumped out the contents. Sticking out of the newspaper that he’d torn with his fingernail was a stack of bills neatly bound together with a paper strip. Bugeye and Baldspot tore at the rest of the newspaper: there were five stacks of cash altogether, one of which was a little smaller than the others. They stared at each other and then down at the money, their jaws hanging open in bewilderment.
‘One of these should be about one million won,’ Bugeye said. ‘And this smaller bundle is American money. I’ve seen it before.’
‘A h–hundred million?’
Baldspot scooted back and mumbled under his breath. He looked terrified, as if he’d done something wrong.
‘Did you find this in the trash?’ Bugeye asked.
Baldspot nodded.
‘I saw the little boy again. The dokkaebi. He said he had something good to show me. I followed him, and found this.’
Bugeye picked up the other item that had fallen out of the bag: a dark-red pouch tied shut with a cord. Inside was a gold necklace, a tiny gold pig, a gold tortoise, and a pair of rings set with stones. Baldspot scooted back over. He looked more drawn to the gold than to the money. He gingerly picked up the pig and tortoise, and held them in his palm.
‘Heyyy, these are pretty. Let’s give them to Mum.’
Bugeye snatched them back and put them in the pouch. He tied the cord tight and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
‘We better hide ‘em. They’re easy to lose.’
‘No! I want to give them to Mum,’ Baldspot whined, but Bugeye tried to appease him.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll let you give them to her. But I’ll keep them in my pocket for n
ow so we don’t lose them on the way back. I’ll hand them back to you right before we get home.’
Baldspot turned the matter over in his head. If he told his mother they found jewellery, then, knowing her, she would almost certainly insist on reporting it to the management office. Back when she was a little girl growing up in an orphanage, whenever one of her classmates’ belongings went missing at school, they all pointed the finger at her. She thought there was nothing more shameful than being accused of stealing, and her fear of being labelled a thief only increased after Bugeye’s father had been put away more than once for burglary. On the other hand, Bugeye figured, since cash bore no mark of ownership, and moved from pocket to pocket and could therefore belong to anyone, surely even his mother would feel no qualms about keeping it.
‘Hyung, let’s hurry up and go home.’
‘All right.’
The two boys cautiously made their way back to the shantytown, and when they arrived at their shack they went into their own room first. They put their ear to the door of the other room: it sounded like Bugeye’s mother was already asleep. Bugeye put the jewellery pouch and the stacks of cash back in the plastic bag, tied it up tight, and hid it beneath the cardboard box that they stored their clothes in.
‘If we give the pretty stuff to Mum,’ he whispered to Baldspot, ‘she’ll get mad. She doesn’t like other people’s things. So let’s keep that stuff to ourselves.’
Baldspot frowned and asked, ‘Why won’t she like it?’
‘She’ll want to give it back to the owner. If you tell anyone about this, we’ll get in huge trouble.’
‘I won’t tell. Ever.’
To ensure that Baldspot’s lips were sealed, Bugeye added, ‘If anyone finds out, they’ll put us away.’
‘Like my dad?’ Baldspot’s eyes widened.
Bugeye gave him a firm nod.
‘We’ll go into the city tomorrow, or the day after.’
‘Across the river? Okay!’
Baldspot’s voice was so loud that Bugeye had to put his hand over his mouth.
Bugeye woke automatically at dawn, but, recalling how his mother had said she planned to go into town that day, he pulled the covers back over his head. He’d fallen back into a deep sleep when his mother cracked open the door.
‘I’ll be back later,’ she whispered. ‘Heat up the leftover rice for the two of you. You don’t have to work today.’
‘Okay,’ Bugeye murmured from beneath the blanket.
By the time he remembered to tell his mother about the money they’d found, she had already left. He meant to sleep a bit longer, but he found himself suddenly wide awake. No sooner had he begun to think about what they should do with the money and jewellery than his heart was racing like it had the night before. He wanted to keep the gold, but it wasn’t like cash; he was sure it would prove to be nothing but trouble. His father had referred to that sort of thing as ‘stolen goods’, and he was pretty sure his father also said that he’d gotten caught before while trying to sell such goods, or while holding onto them. Bugeye decided the best thing to do would be to take the gold to Scrawny’s house and give it to Peddler Grandpa. He thought carefully about what Baldspot had told him. It must have been a gift from the Mr. Kims in exchange for treating them to buckwheat jelly. Though Scrawny’s Mother deserved a share, she wasn’t always in her right mind, so it was best to give it to Peddler Grandpa. He could be trusted. Bugeye’s plan was to hide the cash for now and give it to his mother later in private. But first, he wanted to have some fun with one of the bundles.
He checked to make sure Baldspot was asleep, and took out the bag that he’d hidden beneath the box of clothes. He went into his mother’s room and pulled back a corner of the linoleum. He bent back the sheet of cardboard underneath and cleared away the layers of Styrofoam and plastic until the bare earth was exposed. Then he grabbed some tools from the cubby next to the front door and started to dig. When the hole was deep enough, he took the jewellery pouch and one of the bundles of money out of the plastic bag, tied it tight, and stuffed the bag into the hole. After refilling the hole, the dirt was mounded up on top, so he tossed the extra dirt outside, stamped the ground down flat, and put all of the layers of plastic and Styrofoam and cardboard back in place until the linoleum was once again flat and back to its original condition. He put the jewellery pouch in one pocket and the cash in the other, and gave them both a firm pat. At last, his heart had stopped racing and he couldn’t help smiling. Baldspot came into the room then, his face still puffy with sleep. Bugeye was in high spirits as he heated up the stove and put the leftover rice in a pan with some chilli paste and kimchi to stir-fry for their breakfast. They stuck two spoons into the pan of fried rice and plunked it down on the table. When they were done eating, Bugeye said, ‘Let’s go have some fun today.’
‘In the city? Hooray!’
‘By the way, Mum said she doesn’t want the jewellery. What do you think of giving it to Peddler Grandpa instead?’
‘To him? Not Scrawny’s mama?’ Baldspot asked, wide-eyed.
‘She’s not always in her right mind, so she’ll just lose it. We’ll give it to Grandpa for safekeeping instead. Don’t tell anyone. Understand?’
‘All right, all right. We’ll give it to him.’
The boys passed the shop and the office, and headed through the field. Baldspot was so excited that he kept skipping and jumping as he went, but Bugeye walked with his head down, convinced that everyone’s eyes were fixed on him. When they reached Scrawny’s house, the dogs barked, and Scrawny’s mama looked outside.
‘Is Grandpa around?’ Bugeye asked.
‘He was here a minute ago. Check out back.’
While Baldspot was busy hugging Scrawny and the other dogs, Bugeye went behind the greenhouse where discarded electronics and other sundry items lay in piles. Peddler Grandpa and two women in masks and hats were breaking apart the electronics, and picking out the parts that were still usable.
‘Grandpa …’
Peddler Grandpa stopped working and stood up.
‘What’re you doing here?’ he asked. He pulled off his hat and his military goggles, pulled his mask down below his chin, and walked over to Bugeye. ‘Am I needed in the house?’
‘I brought something for you.’
Peddler Grandpa followed Bugeye with a grin.
‘A gift for me? Well, ain’t that something.’
When they were a safe distance from the two women, Bugeye pulled the jewellrey pouch from his jacket pocket.
‘Please take these.’
Grandpa opened the pouch and peeked inside. His face hardened.
‘Where did you get these?’
‘We found it in the dump.’
The tension in Peddler Grandpa’s face softened, and his smile returned.
‘Oh, then that means they have no owner. Why didn’t you give it to your mother?’
‘She said she doesn’t want it. There was some money, too.’
Peddler Grandpa put the pouch in the pocket of his coveralls.
‘I guess that old saying about befriending dokkaebi is true,’ he said with a laugh. ‘All sorts of things can happen. Go on in and have some lunch.’
Peddler Grandpa stood and watched as Bugeye ran towards the house. Scrawny’s mama poked her head outside, Scrawny held tightly in her arms, and called for the boys to come in and eat, but Bugeye waved at her and ran off with Baldspot in tow. Bugeye felt so unburdened, he thought his feet might leave the ground and he’d sail off into the air at any moment.
*
Bugeye took Baldspot into town. They had to be careful, since Bugeye’s mother was also there visiting the jail. Baldspot was wearing his torn baseball cap, his grey padded jacket shiny with grease and dirt, and his baggy jeans with half the legs hacked off to fit him. He’d been wearing the same clothes every day since the start
of autumn, and though it was a given that they would be dirty by now, the smell coming off them was beyond foul. Bugeye’s clothing was no better. He wore jeans and a thick brown jacket with fake fur on the collar, both of which had been fished from the trash. His mother had found the clothes last autumn and washed it all before he wore any of it, of course, but they had been through a straight month and a half now of digging through trash by day and lolling around on the ground by night.
The two boys crossed the bridge over the stream and caught an intercity bus into town; as soon as they boarded, the other passengers plugged their noses and frowned and got up to move seats, and the driver caught their eyes in the rear-view mirror and loudly ordered them to move all the way to the back. Because Bugeye had paid attention when the grown-ups went into town, he knew the first thing they would have to do was buy a fresh set of clothes. Bugeye asked directions to the marketplace, and headed straight for the cluster of clothing stores. When the plump shopkeeper who’d been dozing off in her chair saw them come in, she plugged her nose and exclaimed with a laugh, ‘Goodness! Now there’s a smell that’ll wake a person up!’
Bugeye chose a checkered shirt and a black duck-down parka for himself, and then selected a similar shirt and a blue parka for Baldspot.
‘Boys, you live over on Flower Island, don’t you? You’re going to need a whole new everything, from the underwear on up.’
If they’d come with Bugeye’s poor mother, she would’ve asked how much it all cost, and turned tail and run, but Bugeye whipped out his cash and changed into his new shirt and pants on the spot, and stuffed a shopping bag with new underwear and socks as well. He bought Baldspot a new sky-blue baseball cap, but the scamp refused to throw out his old one and stuffed it into his back pocket instead. It went without saying that they threw away everything else they’d been wearing. The shopkeeper kept her nose plugged as she placed their old rags in the trashcan. Their rags would make the rounds and eventually find their way back to Flower Island.
The boys headed to a shoe store a few steps away and bought themselves new sneakers. Baldspot kept stamping his feet on the ground to test out his new shoes and bringing the sleeve of his new parka to his nose to sniff it. Bugeye felt like he’d finally turned into one of those normal middle-class boys that he’d once been so familiar with, and he felt proud.
Familiar Things Page 12
