‘…’
Cheon Jaerim immediately apologized for the foot teasing he’d done. Of course, it was an apology worse than none at all.
‘Hyung doesn’t understand when spoken to nicely, do you.’
Having drunk so much that liquor seemed to flow instead of blood, I couldn’t just let it go that Cheon Jaerim had touched my body in the evening as well as in the morning. It was a kind of magic that alcohol gave. But to hide my stupidly frozen tongue, I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut to the end.
Cheon Jaerim swept the trash scattered on the table into the trash can. There was no room for rebuttal that Cheon Jaerim cared about my body more than anyone. He interfered with my diet and even controlled the frequency of medication intake as if he were a doctor. But Cheon Jaerim, wearing a kind mask while worrying about me, probably had black coal dust on him if you looked closely. He drank a lot. He muttered as he entered the kitchen.
‘Is your stomach okay?’
‘…’
Instead of answering, I didn’t stop glaring. Cheon Jaerim also didn’t seem to have spoken expecting an answer. I stuck my head out and followed toward where he was loitering in the kitchen. Looking around the sink area, Cheon Jaerim saw traces of me having eaten and very slightly smoothed his furrowed brow. The sound of the rice cooker opening went ppirillik.
‘You ate a lot for once.’
From now on, I intended to eat a lot. If I could drain his wallet with my food expenses, I was fully willing to do so. But with my tongue root stiffly paralyzed, I didn’t even have the capacity to make such a declaration of war.
‘Go into the room and just sleep. You’re sleepy, right? Got it?’
Cheon Jaerim spoke clearly and distinctly with spacing, as if being considerate of someone hard of hearing. I nodded my head at each syllable that burrowed into my ears in a much more relaxed state. I had no choice, because contrary to my will, my eyelids were drooping downward as if lead weights were attached. It was understandable, having stayed up almost all night and even my nap being just over an hour. Moreover, hadn’t I drunk alcohol too? It was fortunate I didn’t vomit after emptying that whole bottle alone.
But that end didn’t last long. Because I went upstairs with Cheon Jaerim, lay down side by side, and immediately fell into sleep.
Cheon Jaerim (in the dream), who I thought wouldn’t come since he’d come during the day, reappeared. I couldn’t escape like someone suffering sleep paralysis. My fingers wriggled and scratched the blanket, but that was all. I could even feel the gentle breath Cheon Jaerim exhaled right next to my ear. Caught in the dream, I had to wander half in haziness, half in reality. If there was anything I hoped for, it was only that Cheon Jaerim wouldn’t know about my abnormal condition.
For that reason, my appearance washing underwear in the dim bathroom was utterly pitiful. I hadn’t even turned on the light, and the faucet had to be turned on only very slightly. Compared to the trickling water stream, the sound echoing through the bathroom was very loud. Entrusting my body to the darkness, I moved my hands diligently. When I put my hand on the faucet to rinse the slippery underwear, the bathroom light came on brightly. The light that came on illuminated me standing balanced on my tiptoes like a spotlight on stage. My eyes hurt. I looked at the door with one eye closed. At the door, Cheon Jaerim, leaning his head diagonally against the wall, was frowning and looking toward me just like me.
“…”
“…”
Eyes furrowed for the same reason met simultaneously. During the silent time, many possibilities passed. Saying I’m washing underwear because I had a wet dream makes no sense. I waited silently until Cheon Jaerim opened his mouth. Even if he guessed the correct answer, I was prepared to brazen it out. The alcohol had long since worn off, so my head was spinning fast enough to make a whirring sound. No matter how you look at it, it’s a strange scene. It’s common for adolescent sons to wash underwear at dawn, but Cheon Jaerim isn’t a married man with a son, and I’m not some nephew of Cheon Jaerim’s suffering through fierce secondary sexual development either.
Cheon Jaerim scratched between his brows and opened his mouth.
“I won’t bother saying it since you’d be embarrassed.”
“…”
“If you drink, well, you can do that in your sleep.”
Cheon Jaerim was speculating that I’d drunk alcohol, then in my sleep couldn’t control my bowel movement and had an accident. This theory, equally embarrassing, was much more plausible than the fact of having a wet dream. I smiled awkwardly and pulled up the corners of my mouth that wouldn’t rise. A slight convulsion occurred in my cheek.
“But why even wash it? Just throw it away.”
“Ah…”
My mouth opened round. Wall. At times like this, I feel a wall between him and me. I naturally become shabby, hand-washing dirty underwear. Just as Marie Antoinette couldn’t know the life of a blacksmith, Cheon Jaerim may say it thoughtlessly, but these situations became a source of inferiority complex for me.
***
“Drink up to here. If you go below this line, I’ll really make it so you can’t drink, so be careful.”
Cheon Jaerim drew a line on the liquor bottle with a black marker. The appropriate line was drawn at a place not even 10 centimeters from the opening. If I was going to drink only this much, I wouldn’t have asked for such pointless permission. Whenever Cheon Jaerim tried to play a worthless parental role toward me, I wanted to hit somewhere on my body as every bone ached like children going through growth spurts.
“Why…”
“…”
Cheon Jaerim waited for me as I delayed.
“Why is… everything your way?”
“…”
“You won’t let me take medication, won’t let me drink, won’t let me go out…”
“The medication needs to be reduced, drinking isn’t good for you anyway, and when did I say you can’t go out?”
“You said only here…”
“Hyung didn’t go out on your own.”
Cheon Jaerim looked at me straightforwardly with a face that said what’s wrong with that. An expression that there’s nothing to yield on. Come to think of it, that was right. Why did I think Cheon Jaerim prevented me from going out? There were no knights guarding the house, nor locks to confine me.
‘If you want to take a walk, you can do it in the yard too.’
What Cheon Jaerim said wasn’t to only do it in the yard. I took it that way. I thought all the daily routines before entering the house were also giving me a last outing. I thought the space given to me would be inside and just outside the yard.
Ah, I was the fool. It wasn’t Cheon Jaerim who made me a pet dog—it was a prison I made myself. It seemed Cheon Jaerim was densely embedded in my subconscious.
“Why really didn’t you go out?”
“…”
“I thought you liked being here just with me so you stuck to me like gum.”
“I was going to go out today.”
“Want to go out together?”
“I’ll go alone.”
“Suit yourself.”
Cheon Jaerim went out the door spinning the car keys, as if telling me to do as I please. I waited until the car carrying Cheon Jaerim disappeared far away. I gathered my clothes and headed to the front door. The weather was warm enough to be comfortable wearing just one thin long-sleeved shirt. There was a fairly large convenience store about a 3-minute walk away.
“Welcome.”
A young guy who appeared to be a part-timer greeted me. I entered the corner where snacks were gathered. I bought squid-flavored snacks with peanuts. I added chocolate brownies and sour jellies too. When I put down the heavy basket, the part-timer scanned the barcode, then set down the brownie box saying, ‘This is one plus one, so you need to get one more.’
“Just give it to me like this.”
My temples throbbed, perhaps a delayed hangover. Thinking I should sit in the chair in front and rest before going, I put the small jelly bag in my pants pocket. But the part-timer put down the barcode scanner and came out from behind the counter. Then he brought a new brownie snack.
“Even if it’s annoying, you gotta take what you can get.”
Seeing him speak with a good-natured smile, I remembered my time working part-time at a convenience store. Then I felt an invisible sticky affection toward this part-timer I was seeing for the first time today.
As soon as I returned, the place I headed was the kitchen. A kind of warm-up exercise. Like yesterday, I scooped a heaping amount of rice from the rice cooker, added side dishes and gochujang and mixed it. Moving the large spoon a few times, the rice was quickly gone. I took the snacks I’d bought to the living room. I had absolutely no intention of drinking only up to where Cheon Jaerim had drawn. I could boil barley tea and fill it in, or patch it with other liquor. Hehe. I laughed senselessly.
Jjoreureuk, unlike yesterday, when I poured it into a small glass to drink, the taste was much better. Cheon Jaerim must have some conscience, as he didn’t say not to drink alcohol at all. It seemed he hadn’t thought that the aftermath of throwing away the medication would result in me falling into alcoholism. Chewing worm jellies, I opened the chocolate snacks. After emptying one glass of liquor, I thought of the donuts Cheon Jaerim bought. I’ll eat just three. I have to save them and eat them for a long time. When I heated them until the donut sugar melted and dripped and brought them, the table was nothing short of a feast. At a time not even noon yet, I held a solo drinking party. Unexpectedly, the donuts were bitter and the liquor was sweet.
