His shoes sank ever deeper into the mud and the man’s
pace gradually grew slower. He tried walking along the
central part of the hill path, where grass was
growing, but as he walked on in the dark it suddenly
turned into sodden ground. Dew-soaked plants kept
catching his ankles and dragging at them. Thinking
that he might do better bare-foot, the man looked back
at the path he had been following. The lights of the
distant village were only dimly visible. He reckoned
he had taken a wrong turning but he had come too far
to go back. He had been harboring the same anxiety for
the past two hours; at the same time he went plunging
ever deeper into the hills, into the silence. The man
frowned as he stared ahead but he could see nothing.
There was no longer any trace of the moon that had
previously guided him; there was only the darkness,
crouching there staring back at him. The man had lost
his way, yet he had no thought of turning back.
It had likewise been May when his father, who was a
carpenter, had vanished, so about this same time of
year. The man had been ten, his brother Geun-bon was
five years old. It had happened twenty-eight years
before, yet he could still recall it vividly. That
morning his father had left home in blue rubber
slippers, wearing just a vest. That was why nobody had
thought that he would not come back. On that ordinary
holiday morning none of the neighbors said they had
seen him. Rumors had been circulating that Geun-bon’s
father was a spy.
No-one waited for father or made any attempt to find
him, that first day. When he did not return the
following day, it provoked complaints rather than
concern. Mother, who had just turned thirty, reckoned
he was out playing cards somewhere, while Grandmother
prayed to God to forgive her wayward son. Grandmother
previously frequented temples but she had recently
become a Christian and was very fervent. The young boy
had watched her blankly as she prayed: Heavenly
father, our Yeong-sik, father, disappeared a week ago,
heavenly father. May he soon, heavenly father . . .
and the boy imitated the sound of his grandmother’s
prayer, rolling his tongue around ‘heavenly father.’
After a week had passed since Father disappeared,
Mother and Grandmother had grown nervous. A confused
report that in one southern city a lot of people had
died reached their small township but Mother and
Grandmother did not think anything of it. It was too
far away for him to have gone wearing just a vest, and
even supposing he had gone there, they thought he
would not have been able to enter the town.
Grandmother prayed with tears to the Heavenly Father
to bring Father back, and Mother spent days hovering
at the entrance to the village, but there was no sign
of Father.
Ten days spent hovering and waiting at the village
entrance was the limit. Fearing lest he had indeed
gone into that southern city, Mother and Grandmother
could not express their worry openly, but simply
remained indoors, groaning.
Their well-preserved grandmother went to be with her
Heavenly Father the year following Father’s
disappearance, and the year after that Mother
remarried and moved to another village. The
twelve-year-old boy and seven-year-old Geun-bon
remained alone in their original home. Relatives took
turns bringing the children food. Every time they went
away after leaving rice at the house they would be so
busy cursing the remarried mother that they had no
chance to ask the children how they were or whether
they needed anything. The boys had to take care of
everything for themselves. It was a time when not
having to starve was already ample comfort.
The relatives brought rice and cursed their mother
like a kind a ceremony. Was this the result of the
cursing? The man was on his way to visit his dying
mother. He had stopped walking, taken off the
sweat-soaked jacket of his suit, and lain down. It was
a long time since he looked at the stars. Panting,
eyes closed, he lay there a while.
The man had found a job with an entertainment
management agency three years before. It was his
twenty-seventh job since moving up to Seoul. It was
obvious that the choice of jobs available to someone
who had dropped out of high school was very limited,
but he did not give up. Instead he always made every
effort to obtain a better position than reality might
have allowed. It was entirely by good luck that he had
become a manager. It was not that his background was
in his favor, nor that he had some special talent in
that direction. He had been working as a scrubber in a
public bathhouse.
It was the boss of the agency who recognized the man’s
reliability. He had been a regular customer whose skin
the man had scrubbed for a whole year. I need someone
sturdy and frank like you. . . . . . Sturdy and
frank? The man was scrubbing the rough skin on the
back of his thighs. He could understand frank, but he
could not understand what he meant by sturdy. As
always in such cases, the man did not ask any
questions about what puzzled him. That was one of the
rules he lived by.
The man started to move his hand again; he had paused
briefly. The boss suffered from terrible piles.
Protruding from his behind was a second, huge behind.
To avoid touching the projecting piles, the man had
inserted a towel between the legs at the groin. The
boss, who was lying face-downward, suddenly turned
over. Startled, the man took one step back. I’m sorry.
I must have touched your painful part. No, I want to
talk to you. I haven’t finished all the back part yet.
It’s ok, who cares about a bit of dead skin that won’t
come off? . . . . It’s just that it feels good and
there’s time left, you don’t have to worry. If you say
so. The boss held out an arm to the man. He seized it
quickly and began to scrub. What’s good about you is
that even when the dead skin won’t come off you still
use the same force. . . . . The man stole a glance at
the boss’s face. Is that what you mean by sturdy? The
boss’s eyes were closed. Unable to understand the
boss’s good impression of him, the man glanced
furtively at his drooping penis. Hey, what about
working for me? You can earn good money if you work
well. He used to carry on indifferently with what he
was doing. Most of the customers lying on his table
said that kind of thing. Being naked didn’t stop them
being over-confident and boastful. That too was a kind
of dirt, he had no problem with casually going on
scrubbing.
After his father vanished, his grandmother began to
grow sick. She thought it was because he was possessed
by an evil spirit. She said an evil spirit that was
stuck to his back had carried their father off
somewhere and would carry her and the whole family off
too. In actual fact, it was not grandmother who had
recognized that, it was something she had heard from a
preacher who used to pray with laying on of hands.
Even though Grandmother was too weak to walk, she
would stubbornly go to be prayed over by a woman
preacher. She used to be accompanied by her
daughter-in-law and her two sons so that the evil
spirit sticking to them could be cast out. Whenever
his grandmother proposed going out to be prayed over,
the boy would quickly hide. The female preacher’s
words were frightening enough, but what he could not
stand was the pain. Despite his tears and struggles,
the preacher’s strong hand would not let go of the
child. It was the same with his younger brother,
Geun-bon. It was whipping that pretended to be prayer.
She claimed it was necessary in order to drive out the
spirits. She said that the spirits would leave, their
pride hurt by being whipped. Oaths designed to hurt
the pride of the spirits were also included in the
prayers. The children could not endure the pain of the
prayers accompanied by the whipping. The noisily
sobbing children were generally diagnosed as being
possessed by evil spirits. The more they struggled,
the harder the preacher whipped them. They had to
clench their teeth and endure it, they could not
escape from the preacher’s grasp. Their mother endured
the preacher’s praying, silently wiping away her
tears. She also used to confess with copious tears
that Father’s disappearance had been her fault. The
more Grandmother underwent the prayers, the weaker she
became. She was not healthy enough to endure the
preacher’s praying.
The money paid to the preacher for the prayers was not
much, but the grandmother thought that even if they
had to sell the house and all, there could be no
regrets so long as the spirits infesting the family
were driven out and her only son came home. At about
that time the man’s mother began working in a
restaurant. Someone had to earn some money if they
were to eat, and keep on with the prayers, there was
no other way.
After a few more months passed, his mother no longer
went to visit the female preacher. She also would not
allow the boy and his younger brother Geun-bon to be
taken there either. Months had gone by yet still there
was no news of their father, while life was becoming
ever harder on account of the money being given to the
preacher.
The bedridden grandmother cursed the mother and
children for no longer receiving the prayers. She said
that the spirit that had taken away their father would
soon carry her off too, and every night she used to
wail, asking that the spirit stuck to her back should
be removed. Grandmother no longer sought the Heavenly
Father. The preacher with her prayers had now become
her Heavenly Father.
As the man walked along the hill path, unable to see
an inch ahead, he recalled his mother as she had been
in his childhood days. The desolate, dark path seemed
to lead into the past. He tried hard to remember his
mother but nothing much came to mind. If he looked
back, rather than the time he had spent with his
mother what followed was clearer. Apart from the time
when he and his brother had lived alone, everything
else felt like a distant dream. It all seemed like
tales arising in the imagination, rather than what had
really happened. Father, Mother, Grandmother all came
to him as beings existing in his imagination. Now, if
he looked back, the lights of the village could no
longer be seen. The man could not believe that there
was such a deep, large mountain. He felt he was being
sucked into the mountain, as though somehow possessed,
yet he could not stop walking on. He seemed to be
thinking that this dangerous path was the only way he
could connect with the past.
When he thought that his mother was at the end of the
path, his steps quickened. The hours when he had
striven not to miss her seemed to be reviving.
He had no intention of asking why she had so readily
abandoned him and his brother. Neither did he think of
trying to explain awkwardly how difficult his life had
been. He persuaded himself that he was simply curious
as to how his mother had lived and how she was now
dying. He did not think that his life would have been
better if his mother had not remarried but gone on
living with them. So he felt no resentment. The man
was inclined to think that his life had been hard but
not bad. He had been walking along with his eyes fixed
on the ground but now as he lifted his head, far away
he glimpsed a light glimmering very faintly as if in
welcome. He stopped suddenly. Using his sleeve to wipe
away the sweat that was running from his brow into his
eyes, he half closed his eyes and gazed at the light.
2
The man began to head for the faint light. After
pulling out and smoothing the necktie he had put in
his pocket, he knotted it. He wanted to show his
mother that he had lived well, even without her.
Indeed, that was what he reckoned. He prided himself
that at least when it came to living he had been
sincere but when his thoughts turned to his brother
Geun-bon, his confidence faded. That was because he
felt that Geun-bon’s life was as much his
responsibility as his own. He was going to tell his
mother that Geun-bon had gone to America. He was going
to tell her that he had done well at school so had
gone abroad for further studies. He practiced,
speaking aloud. Geun-bon uh even as a kid uh did well
at school so he’s uh studying abroad. We were in touch
. . . . oddly, the man stammered when he told lies.
No-one was listening but he looked around once as he
scratched his head.
His younger brother Geun-bon had been fourteen when he
was lucky enough to be sent to the reformatory for the
first time. Clearly, given the crime he had committed,
Geun-bon was a lucky kid.
Of course, the man had been the same, but Geun-bon
resembled their vanished father and both had been
strongly built even as children. They could barely
afford to eat, yet Geun-bon and the man developed
bigger bones and put on more weight than their peers.
Unlike the man, who was lacking in self-confidence and
very shy, Geun-bon had been ruthless since he was a
child. The man had earned money for living expenses
and school fees by delivering things like newspapers
and milk, but Geun-bon had very easily procured money
which he used as pocket-money or saved up. Geun-bon
had already become known as the neighborhood’s most
famous problem kid. Even if he did not so much as
frown, the other kids used to pull the money from
their pockets if they came face to face with Geun-Bon.
As soon as he was in middle school, tired of extorting
money on an individual basis, he went into the
classroom and wrote on the blackboard, ‘500 won each.’
Putting down the chalk, Geun-bon then opened the class
register and called attendance like the form master.
There could be no question of keeping someone like
Geun-bon in school. Before he had finished the first
term he was expelled. Yet even after that, Geun-bon
came to school more regularly than any other pupil.
Like a bill collector he would every day collect money
easily then leave. It was already a lot of money for
one middle-school student yet Geun-bon was not
satisfied. It was as though Geun-bon was trying to
fill up with money the absence that surrounds
everyone. Unlike a child, when it was a matter of
money Geun-bon was stubbornly tenacious, until at last
something really grave happened.
Unheard of in our quiet little neighborhood, a junk
merchant was murdered. Geun-bon was boldly stealing
junk in secret from the merchant then earning money by
selling it back to him, and he could hardly expect the
merchant not to notice. Since I gave it to you. Give
me back my money, quick. Geun-bon squirmed, his neck
firmly held in the merchant’s grasp. A greenhorn like
you, what you need is a taste of life inside. Little
brat, not even afraid. The merchant had already
reported the matter to the police. Give me back my
money. Geun-bon, not acting like a child, bellowed and
brandished his fists wildly. Not a little resentful at
being caught stealing, and furious at not getting the
money, Geun-bon was beside himself but his strength
was no help to him. Exceptionally strong compared to
the other children though he was, he was still only a
kid, after all.
It had all happened in a flash and Geun-bon was
flustered. He seized a piece of wood that was lying
around and started to wave it with all his strength;
for some reason, blood suddenly erupted in a fountain
from the junk merchant’s throat. Before he could so
much as scream, the blood in his body had all poured
out and he was dead. A large nail was projecting from
the end of the stick Geun-bon was holding and that had
pierced his jugular vein. Geun-bon pushed the dying
man away, pocketed the money for the junk he had
previously stolen, and fled.
At the thought of his brother, the man’s legs seemed
to give way. The place from which the light was coming
was further off than he had thought. He had simply
been following the light and had left the path. He
never so much as thought of turning round and going
back.
Whenever the man thought of his brother, he was
tormented by a sense of guilt. He felt that the faults
his brother had committed were all his fault. He had
never once scolded or blamed his brother. They were
both too young to talk in such a way. After that first
incident, Geun-bon was in and out of the reformatory
for various bigger or smaller crimes. Then in the year
he turned nineteen he once again got into serious
trouble. This time the homicide had been planned and
he was no longer a juvenile. Geun-bon had been handed
down a life sentence and was now in his fourteenth
year inside. Since he was fourteen, Geun-bon had spent
less than a year in a house that was neither a
reformatory nor a jail. The man always had the
impression he was living two lives.
The man began to follow a valley downward. There was
no other way. He could not find a continuous ridge and
there was no way he could get back onto the path, that
had vanished in the darkness. Pawing the air with his
hands, the man began to make his way downhill. As the
darkness deepened his heart grew anxious. There was no
telling how much time his dying mother still had left.
It was already more than ten days since his mother had
phoned. The man pulled out his mobile phone; there was
no signal. If he had known this would happen, he
regretted having left his phone number.
Where was he going, all dressed up like this? The head
of the entertainment agency appeared from somewhere
and gave him a blow on the back of his head. . . . . .
To, to the toilet. The man always walked very
cautiously on tiptoe. He could not endure having his
existence receiving attention from anyone, it made him
feel uncomfortable. His wish was to exist without
trace, to exist without any sense of existing. Yet
unlike what he hoped, he always had a weighty sense of
existing. That was because, being built like a
mountain, he could never hide. So he walked on tiptoe.
The man could never tell when the boss was
approaching. Despite the fact that he did not tiptoe
around without making a sound as the man did. The man
was always curious about that. Although he did not
deliberately try to hide, the boss’s existence was
imperceptible. The man tried hard to make no noise as
he walked. While he made every effort to conceal the
fact that he was passing, he could never tell when
other people were approaching or looking at him.
Scratching the back of his head, the man furtively
moved back. We’re not supposed to go to the toilet?
What if I am going to the toilet? Smiling pleasantly
as he answered back to the boss, he stealthily moved
toward the toilet. Once in, he flopped down. He had
been working under him for three years now, and he had
never once been able to tell him that he needed money.
It’s been a long time. The man got his mother’s phone
call during a concert. It came as he was waving a
light stick at the entrance to the concert site. His
mother’s voice came wafting lightly over a period of
more than twenty-six years. He was holding the phone
silently but he could absolutely not grasp what his
mother was saying. It was partly on account of the
fuss and bustle of the people coming for the concert,
but he was so disconcerted that not a word entered his
ear. Quite honestly, he had never once foreseen or
prepared himself for such an eventuality. Even if he
had ever expected such a thing, it had been too long
ago, when he had first been separated from his mother.
I’m dying. Will you come? . . . . What? That was
when he finally grasped the situation. I said I’m
dying. His mother repeated what she had said, but the
man could find nothing to say in reply. . . . .
. How did you find my number? Like his mother, the man
spoke in a voice that simply ignored the time that had
passed. Even as he took the call, the man went on
selling light sticks and the star’s CDs with the other
hand. I’m. . . . a bit busy. Giving a customer change,
the man spoke in a low voice. I’m dying. Her voice
over the telephone sounded hoarse. I’ll check my
schedule and get down there soon. The man was
amazingly calm. It was something he had never once
looked forward to or expected. You must come before I
die. The man was on the point of asking when she was
going to die. Where should I go? Just a minute. She
passed the phone to a woman who described exactly how
to get there. First come down to Jinan. You know
Jinan, in North Jeolla Province? In Jinan you take the
bus for Mui-ri and get off at Seongsam Village. The
man seemed to be only vaguely paying attention but
inwardly he kept repeating what the woman had said.
With his spare hand he went on handing out CDs and
light sticks to customers without a pause.
3
Geun-won? It’s a good name. Your parents took some
trouble over it. The man’s cheeks burned red.
Skin-scrubbing aside, have you ever had any other kind
of job? His first day at work. The boss questioned him
as he trimmed his nails. The man felt uneasy about the
way he had quit a hard but steady job. It did not pay
much, but in order to a the job as scrubber at that
Gangnam bathhouse the man had been prepared to serve
another scrubber without pay for six months first in
order to learn. The man had trusted the boss’s word
and quit working at the bathhouse, but from the very
first day at the new job he could not free himself of
a feeling that he would end up being abandoned again.
The boss did not feel like the same person as the one
he had seen naked. He made a slightly colder, firmer
impression. Is that all? At least it was clear that a
naked body, a bare body, felt a bit more frank and
kind. The man had regretted giving up the job at the
bathhouse, but he had no choice. That he absolutely
had to look good and depend on the boss, was something
he already felt from his experience of life. . .
. . Speak up. When I was very small, I used to collect
junk. Then I delivered papers, delivered milk, too.
Uh, I was a bathhouse scrubber when I was twenty-five,
too. Once I turned twenty, I was mainly a waiter. I
carried fruit in night-clubs, liquor in room-saloons,
or karaoke bars; I folded towels in massage parlors.
In places like sushi bars, Italian restaurants, meat
buffets, I sometimes used to do dish-washing. Did you
know . . . . there was a time when meat buffets were
all the rage. The man cast a sidelong glance at the
boss. His eyes were shut. You know. Before I was
twenty I mainly did deliveries. Chinese restaurants,
pizzas, I was in a gas station briefly, delivered
flowers a bit, too; when I finished military service I
wanted to get a regular job . . . . I mainly
worked in service industry jobs. You only did what
could be useful for you. . . . . To start with
wasn’t there something you wanted to achieve? There
was no start. It was a matter of earning a living day
by day. It looks as though you were never able to do
anything for very long. Except I applied to become a
noncommissioned officer but got turned down. Military
service? Yes. Did you finish high school? I took the
equivalency exam. That’s good enough. So at least you
know how to read, I suppose? Looking thoughtful, the
boss drew an envelope with money from his inside
pocket. This is your wages for this month. I’m paying
you in advance. First get yourself some things to
wear. It doesn’t have to be a suit, but something
tidy. The man was at a loss how to respond to the
boss’s kindness. Then it’s settled. This is entirely a
service job. Service of just one person, that’s what a
manager does. There’s one thing to be careful of. The
man glanced briefly at the boss. He was embarrassed
about looking straight at people. His gaze was always
uncertain. You need only perform the service you’re
told to do. Don’t do anything on your own. Understand?
. . . . Right. Just do what I tell you and it’ll
be fine. You’re not serving the kid you’ll be looking
after, mind, you’re serving me. Understand? Clasping
tightly his hands where they lay on his knees, the man
nodded his head as if making a promise.
The man had no idea how far down the valley he
had come. Small branches snagged his face and arms,
leaving scratches. Sweat seeped into the wounds and
stung. The man tried to turn and climb back up the
path but there was no telling which way he had come or
from what direction. The faint gleam of light on the
far side of the valley, that he had tried not to lose
sight of, was further away. The man seemed suddenly to
think of something and he began to search the pockets
of the jacket he was clutching. When you get off the
bus at Seongsam village, there’s a small store; ask
there how to get to the Spiritual Growth Center. The
man remembered the words the woman had emphasized. The
money he had brought was in the back pocket of his
trousers. Mother has a lot of debts. I can’t take care
of them all . . . .
As the boss had told him, the man first went to the
market and bought a new set of clothes to wear. No
matter how hard he tried, he found it impossible to
buy several sets of clothes at once. Wearing the newly
bought suit, the man visited the bathhouse where he
had been working. It was the first time he had ever
taken a leisurely bath. Perhaps because the man looked
unfamiliar wearing a suit, the barber and the man in
the store, with whom he had previously eaten and spent
time like members of a single family, simply nodded
and went on with their work. Unable to bid them
goodbye, the man furtively put down the two pairs of
underpants he had brought as gifts and went out.
Once the man had become a manager, before a few days
had passed he learned exactly what he had to do. He
realized it was an undesirable job but he had no
choice. He now understood what the boss had meant when
he said he should serve only him. A manager was a kind
of watcher. The female singer could neither make a
phone call nor go out without the manager’s
permission, indeed she could not even eat when she
wanted. She had no mobile phone, no purse, no home.
The manager received permission from the manager for
each and every detail. If the boss said she was not to
eat, she could not eat, if he said she was not to
sleep, she had to put up with being sleepy. The boss
himself arranged her appearances, all the manager had
to do was follow her.
Her real name was Ji-yong but she had given up that
name and used the stage-name Cash. It was the name the
boss had given her, and as the name suggested,
fair-haired Cash was more to the boss than just cash.
Cash was twenty, but that was not certain. Only the
boss knew personal information and Cash said nothing.
What was sure was that she looked younger than her
age. The other entertainers pretended to be three or
four years younger than their real age but it was
widely rumored that fair-haired Cash had raised her
age.
Fair-haired Cash was a trot singer. At twenty, a trot
singer has to age quickly, but success was possible.
Therefore Cash matured in order to succeed. Apart from
a wish to be a dancer, on the whole she never
complained. She did as she was told without a murmur.
Cash reckoned that in order to repay the boss who had
made her a singer for all his favors, she still had to
bring in a lot more cash.
The man followed along behind Cash twenty-four hours a
day. You’re such a bumpkin. Such had been the first
words the barely awakened Cash had spoken to the man.
Shy, the man had been unable to look her straight in
the eye. He merely fingered the collar of his
newly-bought jacket. You’re not to eat breakfast, he
says it’s fattening. The man spoke in a low voice. He
was hungry but if Cash fasted he had to fast too.
It they went away from Seoul for a concert, they had
to sleep in the same room. The boss could not trust
the faithful Cash. He could not rid himself of an
anxious feeling that she would suddenly run off to
another agency. That was the same kind of fear as the
man harbored toward the boss. The man understood the
boss. The boss used to talk broodingly to the man
about people who had gone off at the first chance,
leaving him feeling betrayed. You still look such a
bumpkin, Geun-won. You embarrass me, going around
dressed like that. That was just before her first TV
appearance.
Nobody was interested in Cash and nobody made room for
her. The man and Cash barely managed to find a corner
to sit in the dressing room. Unlike the other
performers, Cash had no separate person in charge of
her dresses so the man had his arms full of her stage
costumes. If Cash had found a place to sit, it was
largely thanks to the man’s bulk and silence. In the
dressing-room there were a number of performers he had
seen on television but the man was interested in none
of them. On account of the boss’s special
instructions, the man never lowered his guard. They
only have to be on the air once and they think of
nothing but running away. You must make sure she
doesn’t talk to anyone. The boss gave his orders to
the man in resolute tones. He felt that the boss was
worried for no reason. Apart from the man there was no
sign of anyone showing the least interest in Cash.
The man broke with one habit. Once he became Cash’s
manager, he could not stand being left wondering. Am I
such a bumpkin? He broke a very long silence to ask
her. The man usually refrained from ever speaking to
Cash except to transmit the boss’s orders. You were
wondering about that? Yes, you’re a bumpkin. Cash
fluttered her big eyes as she spoke. Her long
eyelashes seemed to tremble. The people working here
never use anything but high-class luxury goods, you
know. Apart from you. Apart from me, luxury goods? The
man had already heard that remark several times. You
mean my clothes? Clothes, suitcase, sunglasses, shoes
. . . . there’s a lot you have to buy. What did you do
before you came here? Before I came? The man knew the
meaning of the words but felt ashamed to say he had
worked in a bathhouse. It was the first time such a
thing had happened. The man turned away lightly and
headed for the van.
The man was crawling back up the valley. He was out of
breath and panting but he did not stop. An animal was
wailing sadly somewhere. Once he stood gasping back on
the ridge, in the valley below he again glimpsed the
faint light that had guided him. His heart seemed to
lose some of its previous impatience. That’s good. As
he recovered his breath, the man spoke aloud to
himself.
4
It was truly strange. He was walking briskly in the
direction of the faint light, yet he had an odd
feeling that he was moving further away from the
light. He reckoned it was because it was dark and it
was hard to judge distances. The further he walked,
the fainter the light became until at last he felt it
was fleeing into the distance. After a while he was
able to find a track leading away from the ridge.
Clear signs of human passage were visible on it. The
man took out his mobile to check the time. It was the
time when night passed into early dawn. The man put on
the jacket he had been clutching and brushed off the
earth clinging to it.
The man went to a department store to buy some
so-called luxury clothing and nearly fainted. He had
expected things to be expensive but had never imagined
they would be that expensive. The man rushed out of
the store as if he had been scalded.
He felt much relieved to see that everyone was not
walking about wearing famous brand names. He soon
learned that luxury goods were also being sold outside
of department stores. He glimpsed goods identical to
those he had seen in the department store in one
corner of a market. He bought a Dolce and Gabbana belt
with an oval buckle and a Louis Vuitton clutch-bag.
All the managers he had seen at the broadcasting
stations had just the same ones. He hurried back to
their lodgings, intending to show them to Cash.
Exhausted from having sung at no less than five clubs
the previous night, Cash was still not awake.
In order to show off his white belt, the man wore it
with his trousers pulled up above his navel. Cash came
out into the living room rubbing her eyes and burst
out laughing at the sight of him. Hey man, what’s that
? Embarrassed, the man fingered the bag lying on the
table. Where ever did you buy that? Cash could not
stop laughing. Who goes around displaying such a big
logo? It’s embarrassing, really. The man looked down
at the belt he was wearing. He had thought that big
would be best, if he was going to do it at all. The
buckle was filled with the brand name in huge
lettering. He had deliberately chosen white so that it
would attract the eyes. . . . .
The man could not believe his eyes. As he came closer
to the light he had first seen, it grew hazier.
His mother had vanished unexpectedly, just like his
father. He clearly recalled the day his father had
disappeared, but he could not remember well the day
his mother disappeared. He had come home from school
and she was not there, nor did she reappear. That his
mother had moved away to remarry was something he
heard later from relatives. A few years later he also
learned from his cousins that she had had a baby.
The relatives soon grew weary of taking care of the
two brothers. Sympathy is a strong initial feeling but
it was no easy matter for it to change into a sense of
responsibility. To beg for food, the man and his
younger brother visited the relatives whose visits
were growing ever further apart. There was a great
difference between help provided spontaneously and
that given on being asked. Relatives that had rivaled
one another to bring rice to the boys’ house were
dumbfounded when the man with his little brother came
to visit them. One and all repeated that they should
not come visiting but wait at home.
As a child, the only thing the man owned was the house
left to him by his grandmother and father. When he was
in high school he went to his uncle and asked him to
sell the house. With the money, he meant to take his
brother and move up to Seoul. He intended to quit high
school and earn money in earnest. What makes you think
that house belongs to you? The brat’s got some cheek.
His uncle was right, of course. Once their father had
disappeared, their grandmother died and their mother
remarried, their uncle had immediately registered the
house in his own name. The rice they had received to
eat over the years was a fair price for it. The man
had begged him to give the house back to them. I’m not
asking you to move out, you can just go on living
there. The kid’s impudent alright. . . . . When the
time comes I’ll look after you. The man had taken
Geun-bon back home. He regretted having wasted his
time. He realized that now it would be hard to get
anything to eat from his uncle’s house, too.
That very night, for some unknown reason, fire broke
out in their uncle’s house. One cousin, a year younger
than Geun-bon, was unable to escape from the house and
died in the flames. The rest of the family escaped
with their lives but they had been unable to save so
much as a spoon, all that was left were black ashes.
The man knew that Geun-bon had gone out for a while
that night, but he pretended to know nothing.
As he had anticipated, the path led toward the spot
where the faint light was coming from. The man almost
ran down it. Yet as he came closer, the light began to
fade and vanish. Instead, too faint to be called a
light, something huge and soft began to loom ahead. It
was definitely the spot where the light had been. Cold
sweat began to run down the man’s back. He felt that
he had spent the night wandering in the forests of a
strange land. As he drew near the huge object,
strength flowed back into his legs.
The man was standing beneath a cherry tree in full
bloom. What he had seen had been the cherry blossom in
moonlight. The man flopped down at the foot of the
tree, that must be a good hundred years old.
Cash was becoming the boss’s surest source of cash.
Touring the clubs was a thing of the past. The more
her name and face became known, the fiercer the boss’s
vigilance became. The more money he earned, the more
anxious he grew that she might run away. The boss was
nearly paranoid. Soon it seemed that he did not trust
the man either. You’re forgetting that I told
you to serve only me. You’re itching to get away from
me too, but never forget that you and Cash are both
mine. The man made no reply. Why don’t you answer? Are
you two lovers? The man turned to look at the boss but
could find nothing to say in reply. How long have you
been working here? Is it already three years? Time
enough to fall in love. The man had nothing to say.
Certainly they were not lovers, but after being
together twenty-four hours a day for all that time it
could hardly be said that they had no feelings for one
another. The man really worried about Cash and loved
her. Now Cash was his sole family. You, don’t even
think of enticing Cash away somewhere else. I’ve had
this problem before.
He was no longer the same man he had been when he left
the bathhouse and began this job. Now the man owned a
genuine Dolce and Gabbana belt and a Louis Vuitton
clutch-bag; he had so often been inside broadcasting
station that he knew an awful lot of people. The
boss’s suspicions grew worse. Cash and the man had not
decided anything different, yet day by day his
obsession grew worse. Someone’s made you give up your
countrified ways, you arrogant brat. The man always
put up with the boss’s hysteria in silence. He simply
wanted to be a stupid, sturdy manager for the boss.
5
In actual fact, nothing about Cash had changed at all.
She was no different from before, when she was
unknown. She still had neither the mobile nor the
purse that everyone else had. Since she had to spend
every evening appearing in far more establishments
than before, she had no time to spend with friends and
apart from the man she knew nobody at all. As for the
man, it was not that he was completely without
anxieties concerning Cash. If Cash were to leave
the man and the boss, that would be a deadlier blow to
the man, who had nothing. The man was as obsessed with
Cash as the boss was. Cash was more important to the
man as future and as present than to the boss. So it
was really the man who stayed close and prevented Cash
from budging an inch.
. . . . Boss, I’m not the same Geun-won as I was
before, I realize that now, too. It was a little while
before, the first time the man had ever answered back
to the boss. It came after the request he had made
with such difficulty had been refused. The man needed
money to take to his mother. Since he was unable to
get the money together, he had been putting off going
to visit his dying mother day after day until a whole
week had passed.
For the first time in ages he was eating a quiet
supper with Cash. He had managed with difficulty to
find time for Cash, who said she wanted to eat
barbecued pork. Just as the meat was ready to eat, the
boss appeared in the restaurant, there was no telling
how he knew they were there. The man had not realized
the boss was approaching.
Hey, dude, I told you not to sit on a chair using only
half your butt. He gave the man a clip across the back
of the head as he spoke. Startled, the man rose to his
feet. Just the two of you so snug together, but if you
leave me out I get glum. . . . . .It’s not like
that. The man stammered. Just a joke, kid, stop
crouching. The boss was unlike his usual self, more
chatty than was necessary. How come you never change
even though time passes? You can put on dignified airs
now. Look at you, the manager of a top star sitting on
a chair using only half your butt. I tell you to be
dignified, I took you out of the bathhouse, how come
you can’t correct that? Cash burst out laughing as if
to say that she had no idea. The kid’s spent his whole
life with an eye on other people, that’s why. That
hurt the man’s pride. He blurted out that he needed
money. He did not say the real reason. That hurt the
boss’s pride. . . . . . . . . Boss, I’m not the same
Geun-won as I was before, I realize that now, too. He
spoke, then stood up. You’re still the old Geun-won,
for sure, dude. Still sitting on a chair using only
half your butt. Tiptoeing when you walk so as to make
no noise. Geun-won with an eye on other people, that’s
you. Cash, seeming to find it all a huge joke, put a
hand in front of her mouth and bowed her head.
The man had been sitting under the cherry tree for
some time. He had a mysterious feeling that the cherry
blossom had guided him there. In the dark spring
night, cherry blossom petals piled up like snow on the
man’s head.
The man soon recovered but was completely at a loss as
to where he should go. On looking around he was so
surprised that he took one step back. Suddenly, before
his eyes, something appeared that he had not noticed
till then. Hidden behind the cherry tree rose an empty
house.
The man slowly approached the house. Once day broke he
intended to ask the way down the mountain. As he
passed through the brushwood gate he cleared his
throat but there was no sign of life from within the
room. The house seemed really to be empty. The
household items scattered across the yard indicated
that people had been living there until very recently.
The man sat on the step and gazed at the scattered
cherry blossom in the spring night. Taking off the
sweat-soaked jacket of his suit, he tossed it up onto
the wooden floor. First, he checked once again that
the envelope of money he had pushed into the inner
pocket was still there. Fatigue abruptly came flooding
over him. Once the tension had eased, drowsiness came
too. Seeing the time, there still remained two or
three hours before day broke. Clearly, once it was
daylight, the path would be visible. Finding the
drowsiness hard to resist, the man checked once again
in a low voice whether there was anyone at home. As
the sweat dried, the cold struck him. It might be
spring, high up in the mountains the nights were still
chill. The spring breeze passing through the cherry
blossom was icy. The man seized the handle of the door
leading into the room. The door opened readily, as if
it had only been waiting for him. He paused to remove
his shoes then entered the room but inside it was so
dark that he could distinguish nothing. The wind that
had come visiting the cherry tree followed him in. The
man flicked his lighter on and looked for the switch.
But fumble though he might beside the door, he could
not find a switch. As he gave up and turned around
something brushed lightly against his head. An old
memory struck him and he giggled lightly. He waved his
hand around inside the dark room. His hand grasped a
familiar round switch. A very ancient fluorescent tube
flickered then lit up.
The man was about to sit down on the floor when he
suddenly recoiled. Then half-crouching, he began to
move backward. Against the inner wall a corpse was
lying, that seemed to have died long ago.
It was in the morning of the previous day that
fair-haired Cash had vanished, leaving a simple note
on the table. Thanks, man. I don’t think fair hair and
trot music suit me. I want to be a dancer, so I’m
going somewhere else. See you again. Beside the note
was an envelope full of money. Ten million won. That
was the amount the man had asked the boss for. The man
reflected wistfully: they had always been together,
twenty-four hours a day, so how had Cash contacted
another agency? He finally realized that he knew
nothing about Cash. The image of the boss hitting the
roof floated into his mind. Obviously the boss would
assume that the man had enticed Cash away somewhere
else.
He knew she would not come back, yet still the man
waited anxiously for her. He longed for her to phone,
at least. The man stayed awake all night, reviewing
the hours he had spent with Cash over the past three
years. He wondered if he would ever again experience
such happy times. Then suddenly the thought struck him
that Cash did not know his phone number. She had never
had to call him, so of course she did not need to know
it. Once his last hope had vanished, his longing for
Cash calmed down.
As day was breaking, the man packed. The bag was full
of luxury goods purchased during the past three years.
As he was passing through the door, he hurled the bag
into a far corner of the living room. His heart was
light as he left the lodgings.
The corpse looked as though it had been dead for
several months. It had already completely rotted and
dried, until it looked more like a toy mummy than a
corpse. Strangely, the hair, gathered in a tidy bun,
was quite undisturbed. Only the hollow eye sockets,
the shriveled lips, the vanished gums seemed to
testify that the woman had once been alive. The fat
beneath the skin had risen as it decomposed so that
the surface of the corpse glistened as if it had been
varnished. It looked like a well chiseled piece of
wood. He tried hard to remember his grandmother’s
decease but for some reason he could recall nothing of
how his grandmother had looked in death. Once he had
calmed down, the man looked around the room. The few
household items were arranged tidily. On the wall hung
a single small frame where several photos overlapped.
The man rose and examined the frame. A few ancient
photos summed up simply the life of the old woman who
had now turned into a mummy. Seeing her in a photo as
a young woman holding a baby, it looked as though she
had had several children. In what looked to be the
most recent photo, she was holding what looked to be a
grandchild. The people in the photos seemed to be a
harmonious family. Still, he suddenly wondered how it
was that the corpse had lain there abandoned for
several months after her death.
The man lay down far away from the corpse on the other
side of the room. Since he had not slept for two
nights running, he could not resist the rising
drowsiness any longer. The moment he lay down, the man
fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, he could not clearly recall who had
come and gone in his dreams. He dimly remembered
having seen Grandmother, Father and Mother, as well as
fair-haired Cash, and the old woman of the house. Good
morning, I hope you slept well? The man greeted the
old woman to whom he was indebted for the night’s
rest. With that he came to his senses and hurriedly
rose to his feet.
Dazzlingly bright sunshine enfolded the man’s body. It
was so dazzling that he could not look directly at the
shining cherry blossom. The man went striding down the
path. He suddenly realized that he had no idea whether
his mother was already dead or not. A memory of having
seen her together with Father and Grandmother in his
dreams flashed into his mind. His steps began to grow
faster, as if he was trying to free himself of a
disagreeable feeling.
He hastened on down the mountain for a while, then
turned back toward the cherry-tree house. The man
seemed like someone who had once lived in the house as
he headed up the hillside carrying a spade that was
leaning in one corner of the yard. Selecting a level
spot, the man began to dig.
A springtime breeze sent by the shining cherry blossom
caressed the man’s chest as it passed.