“You can buy this year’s revised editions of these workbooks. I’ll tell your mother so you can prepare…”
“Are you going to use the ones you’ve already used, noona?”
Are all kids these days this brazen? I was flustered by the address “noona” but didn’t lose my pace. But more than being flustered, his words hit home first. To save even a penny, I usually shared workbooks with students. Because I could just make copies. I’d planned to teach this way this time too. I forced a smile at the person who seemed to see right through me less than an hour after meeting.
“I also need to buy…”
“Usually they bought the workbooks and brought them to me.”
“You rich kid…” almost slipped out.
“There’s red pepper powder here.”
“Huh?”
The conversation was flowing strangely. I’d expected a somewhat cheerful atmosphere where we’d exchange names and greetings, then say ‘Let’s do it like this from now on!’ but I was being swayed by every word from this 22-year-old. I grabbed the sleeve with the red pepper powder and rubbed it with my fingernail.
“I think you need to wet it to wipe it off…”
“Should I… then?”
I stood up to go to the bathroom. I moved as commanded, like a remote-controlled car. Perhaps from the moment I’d stepped foot in this house, I’d been shrinking as if I’d sink into the ground.
“Over there.”
As I was about to leave the room, he pointed to a brown door next to the sliding door. There was a bathroom inside the room. I rushed into the bathroom. When I wet it and wiped, the sleeve turned blue from the water. I crumpled that spot small and rubbed it. After rubbing until the red stain disappeared as much as possible, I suddenly felt the urge to urinate. I carefully pulled down my pants and sat awkwardly on the toilet. It was better than risking suspicion.
“Did it come off?”
“Yeah.”
“Must be cold.”
“It’s fine.”
Deciding not to be swayed by more small talk, I rolled up my damp sleeve. And once again, I thrust the workbooks I’d brought at him. When the pile of workbooks reached his chest…
“Did you pee?”
“Huh?”
“I’m asking if you pissed.”
“P-piss?”
“Yes. Pssss—”
He drew out the end of “pssss—” Like a mother making sound effects for a young child who needs to urinate.
“……”
“I heard everything.”
“S-sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
Embarrassing and shameful. I was swept up in complex emotions. I wanted to quit the tutoring and everything and just leave. I wanted to escape the gallery-like hallway and return to my small but cozy space, to my own space that smelled of mold.
“Let’s s-stop here for today. Have what I mentioned ready.”
I grabbed my bag and escaped as if someone was chasing me. He didn’t even try to stop me from leaving. I couldn’t even answer the woman’s question, “Leaving already?” As I frantically escaped the high-rise building, I ridiculously calmed down. When I got home, I summarized the series of events that had just happened. The conclusion was simply the chick-yellow, shell-shaped bread I hadn’t gotten to try.
***
In the time remaining before going to tutoring, I stared at the blackish ceiling. It was a mold stain that appeared after the rainy season. I’d tried to remove it with bleach, but it was futile. That spot remained bleached white. The mold removal bleach, not even half used, still sat on top of the cupboard. Suddenly I remembered my appearance fleeing as if being chased last time. How ridiculous must I have looked? I frowned at the brown wig I’d carelessly tossed aside.
My phone, lying face down, vibrated and moved horizontally. Judging by the unknown number, it was obviously a spam call. I turned my back on my continuously vibrating phone and observed my face in a small hand mirror. At least this face didn’t look pushover-ish. I’d even heard from classmates I’d become friendly with that my first impression looked sharp. It took some time to become close with my classmates when I first entered school. They thought I’d be difficult. But after seeing me laugh at lame jokes, they said numerous times that they thought ‘he’s different from how he looks.’ But all that is ancient history now. Increasingly, I had no leisure to laugh at one-dimensional gags. Because the approaching reality was overwhelming.
From my sprawled position, I opened my bank account, which was hardly being filled. Even though checking daily wouldn’t make money drop in, I checked my balance once a day. Just filling the target month would mean roughly collecting 10 million won. The connections with students I’d known were severed when I went to the military. Even my fate, which should have been military exemption, required voluntary enlistment to buy time and earn money. Fortunately, with the convenience store night shift I’d secured again on weekends, I could roughly scrape by on a month’s living expenses.
I didn’t know how much money they had to spare, but I envied that kid whose parents could fork over a month’s company salary to a tutor. And a private bathroom in his room! As someone who’d lived in a goshiwon and shared a public bathroom, it was something I couldn’t even imagine. That bathroom was spacious enough to live in if you just laid down bedding. Like the Lord’s Prayer, I muttered ten million won, ten million won, ten million won.
***
The other person pointed at the workbooks with his chin. Workbooks were stacked in pairs on one side. Looking at the divided halves, there were two copies of identical workbooks. He hadn’t just ignored what I said—he’d prepared the things I’d emphasized.
“I bought one for you too, teacher.”
“…Thanks.”
“Is that all?”
“Then what should I do for you?”
“Hmm…”
After thinking carefully, he answered nonchalantly.
“Could you tie your hair up?”
“My hair?”
Isn’t it normal to ask not to give homework or to reduce tutoring hours? Anyway, it was fortunate I’d practiced dozens of times at home to keep the wig from moving. Anyway, I swept my hair back to tie it as he’d requested.
“Isn’t it cumbersome? It looks like your hair keeps falling down.”
“Ah… that’s true.”
“I’ll give you a hair tie.”
He opened the mini drawer unit in the corner of the desk one by one. Swoosh— thunk. Swoosh— thunk. Swoosh— thunk. The sound of opening and closing in sequence pounded in my ears. He pulled out a bundle of round hair ties from the bottom drawer. I wondered if he’d made similar demands according to his preferences with previous female tutors too. Otherwise, there’d be no reason for him to keep women’s hair ties in his room.
I plucked one from among the dangling black hair ties. I gathered my hair and swept it back. I felt a quiet gaze. It was burdensome. Like drinking in front of elders, I wanted to turn my body sideways and tie it alone. The other person seemed to have noticed me calmly tying my hair and gulping down saliva. His hand touched my Adam’s apple. The round Adam’s apple rolled slightly.
“Oh, you have an Adam’s apple.”
“Yeah.”
I cleared my throat and brought the tied hair forward over my left shoulder.
“Interesting.”
“This is my complex too.”
“Really?”
“Should we start class now? Your hair is all tied up.”
Until the long hand of the clock made one and a half rotations, I explained repeatedly until my mouth went dry. For a test-taker preparing for the upcoming college entrance exam, he didn’t even have the basics properly established. In a state far behind other kids, he didn’t seem nervous about the exam with only a few months left. He was completely relaxed, like someone who’d just finished the exam. Looking at myself starting by teaching basic vocabulary within the passages, I momentarily even had the illusion that I might be at a rather high-level English kindergarten.
As time passed, I also felt a bit competitive. I felt the desire to fill in color on this blank slate. Had there been any teacher who properly taught him until now? He read through the English passages with decent pronunciation. Before I knew it, I was putting in all my effort. So much so that I didn’t notice the gaze occasionally staring intently at me.
“Let’s stop here for today.”
“……”
“I’m going to give you homework.”
Contrary to my concerns, he didn’t nitpick at my explanations or scatter his attention. He moved on, whether he knew or didn’t know. He silently nodded at my words about giving homework too. There were loach-like guys who would throw wrenches and muddy the atmosphere during class. This was the complete opposite of my expectation that he’d be one of those types.
“Then I’ll see you next week.”
I folded the corner of the workbook into a triangle. Cheon Jaerim, who had been quietly watching what I was doing, suddenly spoke up.
“Want to eat before you go?”
“Food?”
“The ajumma made some, but I’m bored eating alone and don’t have much appetite.”
“Do your parents come home late?”
It was already approaching ten o’clock, and this spacious house was still quiet.
There was no answer.
“Okay. Let’s eat together then.”
Thinking of my empty refrigerator, I couldn’t decline. It was close to temptation. My hungry stomach would be the main culprit keeping me up with insomnia even late into the night. Today’s meal was also just two triangle kimbap. At my positive attitude, he slowly rose from his seat. Then he plucked the bag waiting in my arms for its zipper to close. The bag was carefully placed on one side of the desk.
“Get this later.”
He walked with a rustling sound. The marble floor touching beneath his thin socks was very cold. He walked almost sweeping the floor with his bare feet, wearing neither socks nor indoor slippers. In midsummer, I might be able to walk barefoot like that too, but now it was a bit chilly to walk only barefoot. Isn’t his feet cold? I followed behind him, sniffing at the braised ribs smell that had been present since I entered the house. He familiarly took out two rice bowls and opened the rice cooker lid. I could see him scooping rice round with a white rice paddle and piling it into the bowl. The table looked like a 12-dish royal spread. It was a completely different scene from my eating habit of roughly eating with side dish containers.
“Here.”
“Thanks.”
I scooped the fluffy rice steaming with warmth. This was my first time having home-cooked food made by someone else in a family home.
“Does it suit your taste?”
“Yeah.”
After that, it seems I ate with my belt completely loosened. Despite having a tutoring student I’d only met twice sitting across from me, I was distracted by the braised ribs and seasoned crab. I devoured it, unaware that red seasoning was smeared around my mouth. The water I poured was for rinsing to taste other side dishes. One bowl was emptied completely. When I tapped my stomach, the food inside felt like it would spill out at any moment. I slouched as if I’d slide right under the chair.
Cunningly, with my stomach full, my mind became relaxed. This must be why people with means show it even in their bearing. He held out a soft tissue to me, slumped fluidly.
“You got some on you.”
I accepted the tissue. Then I checked for red pepper powder that might have gotten elsewhere.
“Next time, if it’s okay, let’s eat together.”
“Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
The other person’s glossy face now seemed normal. If only he’d been like this from the first day. What about the pee sound, what about the red pepper powder. I blew away far into the distance the absurd first impression I’d had of him, pushed aside by mere braised ribs and seasoned crab.
“Come to think of it, I’ve been teaching without even knowing your name.”
“It’s Cheon Jaerim. Not ‘ai’ but ‘eo-i.'”
In front of a child with even a pretty and quirky name, I was too ordinary.
“I’m…”
“Kim Sunjo, right?”
“How did you know?”
“I knew from the beginning. I heard about it.”
“I see. Then I’ll be going now. Good work.”
“Get home safely.”
When night came, it was much chillier than late afternoon. I untied my long hair. The hair strands wrapped around my cold nape like snakes, carried by the wind. After leaving the apartment’s main entrance, I stopped by a nearby bathroom and took off the wig. It was about a 5-minute walk to the bus stop.
Cheon Jaerim and I fundamentally differed as much as heaven and earth, starting from where we lived. It became more clearly evident the more time we spent. Though I’d been to the military and was old enough, the emotion I felt toward a young kid was petty and pathetic. I let out a long sigh. I waited emptily for the bus running in the distance.
