The village uncles always put in these fussy orders, without fail. Liquor and snacks were obviously available at Jeongan’s supermarket too, but they’d stubbornly insist on having him fetch, of all things, exactly the items that required a trip to the next village over, and bring them right away. So each time, Jeongan would end up crossing the mountain to buy them.
“Hey, throw this out on your way, would you. And that bench out front could use a good wipe down. Honestly, it’s filthy every time I walk past.”
“That’s because that Mr. Kim spat on it on the way over. That bastard’s always spitting right in front of the supermarket door.”
They kept Jeongan standing there like this every time, cackling and tossing out harsh words. Jeongan simply gazed off into the distance in silence, waiting for the uncles’ chatter to run its course.
“Here.”
Then, at least, one of the uncles who’d stayed quiet handed over the money right away. It was the one and only time they didn’t put it on credit.
“Damn, takes after his old man, loves money that much.”
Hearing insults like that, part of him wanted to refuse the money out of spite, but that only made him more determined to take it. He didn’t mind letting others run a tab, but from the uncles, he made sure to walk away with cash in hand every time.
I’ll get going. Jeongan said his goodbye in a low voice and climbed onto his bicycle. The monotonous sound of the waves rolled in, as if answering him back.
Once the deliveries were done, he headed straight back to the supermarket. He opened the tightly shut supermarket door and stepped inside, throwing both the front and back doors wide open. Letting in the wind that had crossed the sea and the wind that had swept down from the mountain, he took a deep breath.
This was his space, the one he always came back to.
Watching over the supermarket every single day, wiping the dust off the merchandise, selling what needed selling. That was Jeongan’s daily life.
Hosan Supermarket
Jeongan looked up at the large sign hanging above as he wiped down the bench. The supermarket’s name, taken from the village itself, was painted in blue in an old-fashioned font rarely seen anymore. The sign had long since grown shabby, worn down by years of weather. It was a small, run-down shop, about as unassuming as the sign above it, but Jeongan cherished this place, his workplace. His hands moved over the bench with careful, energetic strokes.
Just then, a village woman in pink slippers passed by in front of the supermarket. It was Auntie Yeongi. She seemed to be hurrying off somewhere exciting, but upon spotting the open door, she turned back toward the supermarket.
“Jeongan, you’re back? The place was closed earlier.”
“Yes. I stepped out for a bit.”
“Those good-for-nothings sent you out on another delivery? Goodness, you work so hard. Some people just have rotten hearts.”
Jeongan always let out a small laugh whenever he heard the aunties badmouth the uncles on his behalf, words he could never quite bring himself to say himself. Things he barely gave a second thought to were often the very things the aunties took to heart on his behalf.
“Is the lady of the house out at the market town?”
“Yes. She said she’ll be back in a few days.”
“Auntie set aside some side dishes for you. Come by the senior center later and pick them up.”
“Thank you.”
“Alright, Auntie’s off, she’s busy. But I heard some good-looking young men came all the way from Seoul? What in the world is going on all of a sudden?”
Word’s already gotten around, has it. Jeongan let out a small laugh, watching the auntie hurry off.
The arrival of outsiders was practically entertainment for the villagers. The road in was open enough, but so rough that hardly anyone bothered coming, and the village itself was too small, without any particular charm to draw tourists. About all that happened was the occasional visit from those who’d left, coming back for the holidays.
But now, out of nowhere, outsiders had turned up in the village. And not just any outsiders, ones old man Shin himself seemed pleased to welcome. Naturally, the villagers gathered here and there, buzzing with talk over the strange turn of events. Wondering why these strangers had suddenly shown up, speculating about their purpose, they brought a rare bit of life to the village.
Starved for that kind of entertainment, the villagers showed no sign of breaking up even as night settled in, dark and deep. Thanks to that, Jeongan managed to finish up his backlog of supermarket work with relative ease and made his way, belatedly, to the senior center.
Auntie Yeongi, who’d stepped out for a quick smoke, ran into Jeongan just then and pulled him inside the senior center, folding him naturally into the conversation already underway.
“Isn’t it probably some redevelopment thing? The look on that man’s face, he’s gotta be a gangster.”
“That’s what I thought too. Dressed head to toe in black, reeking of cologne… but why’s he so good looking, on top of it all? You can practically smell the money on him. Right off his face.”
“In all my seventy years, I’ve never seen a man that handsome. You know those old Hong Kong movies? He looks just like the lead.”
“I swear I thought I was watching TV or something. And those shoulders, so broad, like an athlete. What’s it called, swimming or judo, something like that.”
Jeongan came out cradling an armful of side dishes pulled from the senior center’s kimchi fridge and bowed in greeting. The aunties, busy as they were with their conversation, waved back at him.
“They’re staying at the place next to yours, right? Auntie already cleaned it up earlier. Heard you had a lot of deliveries today too.”
“Ah, thank you. I was just about to head over there now.”
Jeongan had already been thinking about that very thing. Old man Shin had told him to clean the place out, so he’d figured he’d stop by the senior center first, then head home, tidy up the house, then back to the village hall… he’d been mentally mapping out that whole sequence, in a hurry.
“Figured as much, so Auntie already took care of it, don’t worry. If the old folks saw you cleaning it yourself, they’d get all worked up again. It’s a place for the outsiders to stay, after all.”
“…Okay.”
“Still, it’s too dark out now for the old man to be getting around on his own, so make sure you walk him there.”
Thanks to Auntie Yeongi catching onto that, Jeongan was able to breathe a little easier. No need to go back and forth, he could just wait here and head over together with him.
“…..”
Glancing down briefly at the side dishes in his arms, Jeongan tapped the tip of his shoe against the ground. Waiting for the village hall door to open, he took in the quiet, unremarkable village scenery, now sunk in darkness.
Suddenly, the sound of rough waves striking the shore seemed clearer than before. His gaze drifted toward the horizon, swallowed in darkness. It was a sound he heard every night, and yet it never failed to make his heart tremble, and before he knew it, Jeongan had gotten off his bicycle and was walking, step by step, toward the sound of the waves.
During the day, even just the sound of the sea was enough to lift his mood, fresh and pleasant, but…
“Who’s there.”
Jeongan, slowly wheeling his old bicycle along toward the sea, spun around, startled, at the sudden voice cutting through the darkness.
The voice had come from the village hall. He’d thought he’d walked quite a distance by now. But his slow steps had barely carried him past the area around the village hall and senior center. The darkness, so deep he could hardly see ahead of him, had thrown off his sense of direction entirely.
Hair fluttering in the wind, Jeongan searched the darkness for the shape that had called out to him.
“What were you doing, taking so long. You knew someone was waiting for you.”
He hurried toward the front of the village hall. There stood the group of dark-suited men, drawing every villager’s eye. His gaze drifted, without meaning to, toward Jonghyeok, standing in the faint light spilling from inside the hall.
Their eyes met at once. Jeongan flinched under the weight of that dark, intent gaze and quickly turned his eyes toward old man Shin instead.
But old man Shin wore an uneasy expression, rubbing at his wrinkled cheek. He looked plainly troubled and uncomfortable, a face entirely different from the warm welcome he’d given them just hours earlier.
Jonghyeok, who had been standing quietly in the dark, raked a hand through his hair and let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Sir. If anyone’s in a difficult spot here, it’s us, wouldn’t you agree?”
His tone was sharp, almost cutting. Handsome enough to pass for an actor, by anyone’s measure, but the air he gave off carried something fiercer than that, shaped by a life that had clearly been hard-won and unyielding.
“…Let’s talk tomorrow. It’s already gotten dark today anyway.”
“Quite the hospitality you’re showing.”
“…..”
“Never mind. You look tired too, sir, so let’s leave it here for tonight. We’ll be around for a while anyway.”
With just a few words, he’d effortlessly taken control of the mood. Old man Shin, watching Jonghyeok with a sour look for a moment, disappeared back into the village hall without another word, fleeing almost, and vanished. Bang! The door slammed shut, loud enough to carry through the surroundings.
“Quite the temper.”
Jonghyeok’s brow furrowed slowly as he pulled out a cigarette. His already sharp brow bones stood out even more. He lit the cigarette off the flame Jihwan naturally held out for him, drawing in the damp sea breeze together with the acrid smoke.
“Let’s go.”
The glowing red tip of the cigarette turned toward Jeongan.
“…Yes. It won’t take long.”
Maybe it was the night, but Jonghyeok’s face looked far sharper now than it had during their brief encounter earlier in the day. Whether that was just how he naturally looked, or he was simply in a bad mood, or both, there was no telling, but the black suit and black shirt suited him remarkably well.
“Hyung, you should eat something. I’ll go ask around.”
“Let’s just get settled first.”
Listening to the exchange among the dark-suited men, it seemed they’d gone this whole time without a proper meal, talking straight through until this hour. Jeongan walked a step ahead, wheeling his bicycle, and lowered his head, doing his best to pretend he hadn’t overheard.
“It’s here.”
Thanks to the auntie’s meticulous hands, the house was thankfully clean. Still, Jeongan parked his bicycle and darted inside first. Creak, creak, the old bicycle groaned even after coming to a stop.
Both the floor and the doorway were spotless. Just as expected from the most meticulous auntie in the village. Even so, Jeongan checked the corners and even the ceiling, just in case. The auntie was on the shorter side, so the ceiling probably needed one more pass.
“It’s clean inside. But I’ll go over the ceiling once more for you.”
Those standing outside said nothing. Jonghyeok’s dark gaze swept thoroughly over the house, sunk in shadow, while Yongsik had already gone off in search of somewhere to get a meal. Meanwhile, Jeongan fetched a duster from somewhere and ran it over the ceiling.
Jihwan came closer and asked.
“Is this going to take long?”
“No. All done.”
Jonghyeok looked out at the village, growing steadily darker with no streetlights in sight, then at the house before him, and gave the bicycle standing there precariously a light kick with his foot. Creak, creak, the bicycle groaned wearily once more.
