by Bae Suah
“Excuse me. I need to get off at the fishing hole. Is it still far away?” I asked the driver.
“Fishing hole? This bus doesn’t go there,” the driver said.
“Then where should I get off?”
“You’ll have to get off at the next stop, cross the street, and catch another bus. It’s quite far.”
I knew the guard had said I could take any bus, but what could I do? I got off, sat on the bench at the desolate, abandoned bus stop, and waited for the next bus. I already regretted making this visit. A dog the size of a calf walked past me, carrying a dark red lump of flesh in its mouth. A dead rat, perhaps. Snow began to fall. It settled into a thin layer on my hair and my old sweater. The dog with the rat in its mouth turned to me with empty eyes, huffing and panting. I thought that maybe it was studying the bag of chicken in my hand. It looked like it had something to say to me.
Give me some chicken and I won’t eat you.
A bulletin board beside the bus stop displayed a “Wanted” flier. There were none of the usual movie posters or nightclub ads. I read the flier out loud to try to stave off the cold.
Wanted by police: One female, last seen with dyed hair and wearing baggy pants; and two males, both wearing basketball sneakers. Suspects are believed to be drifters from the city. On September 4, Kim (alias), a thirty-nine-year-old male resident of Seoul, and Jeong (alias), a twenty-seven-year-old female resident of Uijeongbu, were found murdered. Reports indicate that Kim was escorting Jeong home after they had dinner together at The Rose Garden. Kim was killed by repeated blunt force trauma to the back of the head, and his body was found on the side of the road leading up to Jaein Waterfall in Yeoncheon. Time of death is estimated at 8:00 a.m. on September 4. Around 9:00 a.m. of the same day, Yi Sun-im, Jeong’s sixty-year-old landlady, heard groans coming from Jeong’s room and found her with multiple stab wounds to the head and chest. Jeong was transferred to the hospital but passed away at 2:00 p.m. The car that Kim and Jeong left The Rose Garden in has yet to be found. According to anonymous witnesses, after eating dinner Kim stated that he would drive Jeong home, and they left the restaurant together. In the parking lot, some unidentified youngsters who appeared to be hippies from the city tried to hitch a ride and became angry when Kim refused them. Witnesses say they cursed at him and then disappeared into the dark. Police found no leads to suggest that anyone had a grudge against Kim, or that he had been in any financial disputes, and there were no indications that he was involved in any sexual affairs. Therefore the police are investigating this group of youngsters as the prime suspects in this case. The suspects are believed to be in their early to midtwenties. They are described as vulgar of speech and poorly dressed, and the woman’s hair is dyed wine red. They’ve been spotted frequently in red light districts and up in the hills near Daegwang-ri, Uijeongbu, and other nearby cities. Kim was driving a black Sable. Anyone with any information on these suspects or who may have spotted these individuals is asked to contact the Yeoncheon Police Department.
The whole time I was reading the flier the dog kept pacing around the bus stop. September 4. That means the crime had happened over three months ago. Had their murder become this village’s great unsolved mystery? Or was it simply that nothing else had happened after the case was solved, so they forgot to take down the flier? Just as I was debating whether to give the chicken to the dog, the bus came.
When I got off at the fishing hole, there were signs pointing the way to the base. The signs directed me to a steep, narrow mountain path. The snow was still falling and the path was dark. I popped into a store near the bus stop and asked for a cup of instant coffee to warm myself up. I felt feverish. My shoulders and hair were damp. Once I felt a little warmer, I started walking up the path to the base. Under my jeans, my legs had long since lost all feeling. I stopped thinking about why I had come all that way, what Cheolsu was to me, and whether I had a future. How long had I been out in the cold? I was hungry and dizzy. I was freezing but craved a glass of cold water at the same time. I sat on the side of the road and absentmindedly reached into the bag of chicken. I thought I would have just a bite, but when I opened the aluminum container and saw the chicken carcass looking like the body of a woman frozen to death in Siberia, I lost my appetite. Fortunately the snow wasn’t sticking; it was settling lightly on the ground and melting away like dew. Had it not melted, I would have wished for the snow to turn sharp instead. Turn sharp and pierce through me. I arrived at the base entrance and told the guard I was there to see Officer Kim Cheolsu, who was on a training exercise.
“Ah, you mean Officer-in-Training Kim Cheolsu?” The guard was friendly. “If you head up that way, you’ll see a burned clearing. That’s where everyone should be.”
“Is it far?”
“No, it’s not far. You just can’t see it from here because of the tree cover.”
A burned clearing: that was how the guard had described it. And just as he said, in the middle of the forest I came across a deep water hole that appeared from between blackened and burnt trees, a huddle of soldiers, and fire. The soldiers had gathered firewood and were clustered around a bonfire. Dark, shining faces that I couldn’t tell apart. Cheolsu’s face was not among them. But then again Cheolsu’s face could have been planted right before my eyes and I would have walked on past, too full of disappointment to recognize him. The soldiers’ faces were that uniform, and that unfamiliar. I told them I was looking for Kim Cheolsu. They looked around at each other and shook their heads. The paper bag with Cheolsu’s chicken fell from my hand. Out past the treeless clearing I saw a white cliff wall, and somewhere a crow let out a sharp cry. The wind blew through the branches and scattered the lacework of snow that had settled there. The wind flattened the tall autumn grass that had not yet died.
“I came all this way because I was told he was here.”
There were about ten soldiers gathered around the fire. None of them spoke, as if the wind had frozen their mouths shut. Their lips looked chapped and malnourished. I stared at the cliff wall.
Cheolsu, where are you?
After a dull and interminable length of time had passed, one of them finally spoke.
“Kim Cheolsu didn’t come to training.”
“But I was told he was here.”
They kept quiet. Branches crackled and snapped in the fire. I bent over to pick up the bag of chicken.
“We have some hot water. Would you like some?”
I accepted a cup of the water that had been boiling in a camping pot. A stab of pain ran through my head like a knife. I felt frozen. I sat down on the snow-dampened mud with the soldiers.
“Kim Cheolsu didn’t report for training,” the soldier repeated.
“But they told me he did.”
“There must have been a mistake. Maybe they confused him with the Kim Cheolsu who was in an accident.”
“What do you mean, ‘the Kim Cheolsu who was in an accident’?”
The hot water exploded in my head. The soldiers stopped talking again, as if they didn’t know what they should say. None of them appeared to be in charge. That’s probably why they weren’t sure how much they should tell me.
“Actually, there are two officers-in-training named Kim Cheolsu,” said the soldier.
I didn’t respond.
“The Kim Cheolsu who was supposed to be on this training exercise isn’t here. I’m not sure which one you’re looking for, but you should go back to the base where you first checked in. The Kim Cheolsu who is there is probably the one you’re looking for.”
There were two officers-in-training here with the same name. No one had told me, and I never would have guessed. Maybe one of them really was the Kim Cheolsu I knew. All I did know was that, for reasons unknown to me, I could not meet the Kim Cheolsu who had been here. I would never get to see the Kim Cheolsu who’d met with some mysterious accident on a snowy winter day. If I went back to
the beginning, there would be another Kim Cheolsu, and I would be able to find him. No one knew if that Kim Cheolsu was the one I knew, the one I’d wandered all that way for, carrying a bag of chicken to give to him.
“I’ll head back.”
I handed back the hot water and nodded good-bye to the soldier who’d spoken to me.
“Wouldn’t you like to warm up a little before you go?”
He looked at me with sympathy. I wanted to stay there forever. Give Cheolsu’s chicken to a rabid dog to rip apart and eat. But instead I stood and watched the crows as they dove from the cliff. I couldn’t bring myself to approach the blazing fire. Where was Cheolsu? Was he here? Was he there? Had the Cheolsu I was looking for died in some accident? Was he in the hospital? Or was he sitting with the other middle-class officers-in-training, surrounded by giggling girlfriends and mothers and sisters, laughing and joking over shots of alcohol, having forgotten all about me and the stupid chicken? What was real and what was fantasy? And what was it that I really wanted—reality or fantasy? The same old apathetic Cheolsu who’d been waiting a long time for his chicken, or the malnourished Cheolsu out here with the crows at the bottom of that cold cliff?
When I returned to the first base, other soldiers were signing in for visits at the PX. Just as I had before, I gave my name, ID number, and address and said I was there to see Kim Cheolsu. The soldier pointed to where he was sitting. He was on a bench beneath a tarp roof. He was with the other officers-in-training and their girlfriends, mothers, and sisters who’d come to visit them, drinking cheap whiskey—alcohol that was officially forbidden on base. They were giggling, and everything was exactly as I had imagined it. I walked over to Cheolsu, whose back was turned to me, but still I could see he was laughing. Someone nudged him in the side and whispered something in his ear. Finally he noticed me. The closer I got, the more people turned to stare. They stopped laughing. The girlfriends and mothers and little sisters stopped smiling and looked at me warily. The snow was still falling, but they didn’t look cold in their wool coats.
“What took you so long?” Cheolsu asked awkwardly, taking the tattered paper bag of chicken from my clenched hand. “I couldn’t wait any longer and decided to join my friends. We’ve been talking about how to build bridges. One of the guys specializes in bridge construction.”
Bridge construction. Building bridges. I didn’t hide the look of scorn on my face. Cheolsu was probably hurt, but he didn’t say anything in front of his friends.
“Would you like a cookie?”
One of the girlfriends offered a plate of cookies and sliced fruit. The faces and clothing of the women gathered on the bench in the falling snow were so different from my own. Their breath came out white. I shook my head coldly, without saying a word. Cheolsu took my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
“Let’s go over there to talk.”
Get your hands off me. Don’t stroke my face. I’m not an animal.
Why was I suddenly thinking that?
I felt doubtful, but Cheolsu looked straight ahead as we walked.
“I wrote to my mom. Told her not to come. I told her it would make you too uncomfortable.”
“It didn’t matter to me.”
“But it did.” He sounded upset. “You took so long that I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I left early this morning.”
“Then what happened? It’s almost three p.m.”
“The guards at the PX told me you were doing a training exercise at a different base. I went all the way to the other base, on the other side of a snow-covered mountain, but they told me you were here. They said there are two officers-in-training named Kim Cheolsu. The other wasn’t there because he got in an accident during training, so they sent me back here. They said you were probably the Kim Cheolsu I was looking for. I came all the way back, worried I might never see you again.”
The words came out so fast that I wasn’t sure I even believed myself. I stopped. No further explanation seemed necessary. Cheolsu probably felt the same. He listened to me with his mouth half-open and didn’t say anything for nearly a minute.
“What are you talking about? You think there are like five hundred officers-in-training here? I’m the only Kim Cheolsu. There’s been a huge misunderstanding. If you don’t believe me, go ahead and ask someone else.”
I didn’t understand what was going on either. Was this hatred I was feeling? Or a dull affection buried deep inside? Or was I merely acting out some dramatic emotion in order to endure this chaotic life? I had no idea. But for God’s sake, stop petting my shoulder like that. I’m not an animal.
After a brief silence he asked, “Did you eat?”
We held hands as we walked. Like two lovers on a snowy, unpaved road. I shook my head.
“There’s not much to eat here. Just cookies.” Cheolsu sounded apologetic, and then he held up the bag of chicken as if he’d suddenly remembered it was there. “We have this!”
I shuddered in horror.
“I hate chicken. Besides, that’s for you.”
“Says who?”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
“It’s over there.”
Cheolsu pointed to the soldiers’ latrines at the end of the parade ground. I went inside and squatted down awkwardly, trying to keep my body from touching the latrine door, and peed for a long time. My thighs and bottom were ice cold. When I came out, Cheolsu was pouring a can of Coke into two paper cups. He was sitting on a bench beneath a tree overlooking the snowy parade ground. Cheolsu’s friends and their girlfriends, mothers, and little sisters were staring at us from across the way. They looked like they were waiting to see how much I would enjoy eating his chicken.
“Here, dig in.”
He tried to hand me some Coke. I shook my head.
“Eat! I bet you haven’t eaten anything all day,” he said, tearing up the chicken.
“Cheolsu, are there two Kim Cheolsus here?”
“Huh?”
He put down the chicken and looked at me.
“Tell me. Is there another officer-in-training named Kim Cheolsu besides you?”
“I told you there isn’t. Someone made a mistake. Either you misheard them or some idiot private misunderstood you. Besides, what does it matter? You’re here now, and the Kim Cheolsu you were looking for is right in front of you. So who cares? Have some chicken.”
“It’s your chicken.” I pushed away his hand as he held out the carcass. “Cheolsu is a very common name. You know that.”
“What the hell are you getting at?”
“I know I said your name clearly, both here and at the other base. Kim Cheolsu. I said I was here to meet Kim Cheolsu. Just like that. But the soldier at the drill field told me, ‘The Kim Cheolsu who was supposed to be on this training exercise isn’t here. I’m not sure which one you’re looking for, but you should go back to the base where you first checked in. The Kim Cheolsu who’s there is probably the one you’re looking for.’ That’s what he said.”
“You’re tired.” Cheolsu gazed into my eyes as if to soothe me. “That’s why your nerves are frazzled. Have some chicken. You’ll get your strength back, and you’ll feel better. Do what I say.”
My eyes started to well up with tears. Up until that moment I’d never really understood sadness. The fierce, mob-like sadness that would come over me, clear and strong. Where did it come from? Was it real? This sadness that crept up and cut through all of my routines and my boredom and my repetition and my drama, like a sliver of glass piercing my flesh and sticking in the soles of my feet?
“I went to see your mother,” I said. “She called me.”
I ignored Cheolsu’s chicken and kept talking. He must have seen my tears, but he wouldn’t move his hand away, which was still holding the carcass.
“I really don’t belong with you. If it was like the
old days, when all we did was bump into each other at the bus stop on the way home from school and say hello, that would be one thing, but this isn’t it.”
“What are you saying?”
“I hate the formulaic lives you and your mother lead.”
Finally, I’d said it.
“Don’t say that. Eat some chicken.”
It seemed like Cheolsu was suppressing his anger, or his wounded pride. His voice was high and peevish. I took the chicken, placed it back in the container, and put it in the torn paper bag. Cheolsu watched wordlessly. I carried the bag over to the latrines. The snow was falling prettily on the paper bag that held the chicken carcass, on my footprints, on my sweater, and on the soldiers’ latrines, like a drawing of a landscape at midnight. The weather was frighteningly dark, and the world was filled with shadows that made it impossible to tell the time. I tossed Cheolsu’s chicken into the latrine and turned around. Cheolsu was standing right behind me. I ignored him and walked away. His friends, and their girlfriends, mothers, and little sisters were still staring at us.
“I’ll never forgive you for this. Ever,” Cheolsu hissed at me as I brushed past him. “All you do is put up walls and make excuses that I can’t understand. I’ve always hated people who go through life as if they don’t care, making everyone else pander to their moods. I tried to feel a sense of duty toward you.”
Without looking at him, I said, “Now that your toilet has eaten your chicken, you’ve done your duty.”
And then I left.
I became very ill after returning home. I had a fever and my body broke out in hives. My room was covered in dust from not having been cleaned in a long time, and at night I heard rats scuttling around. No one opened my door to check whether I was alive or dead. At work they were planning a Christmas party; they called to ask whether I could make it. One of the women who worked in the university office told me that it had been snowing the entire time I was sick, and there was a big commotion because everyone who’d taken a weekend trip to Gangwon Province was stuck there. On the third day, after my fever lifted, I took some bread and butter out of my desk drawer and ate it with barley tea. The cold butter and the lukewarm tea sat in my mouth. My brother’s departure date for Japan was approaching. He told me he was going to take out a loan to cover the rest of the money he needed. He put on a black fur-lined hat, black boots, and black gloves. He looked like an aging thief.
