Please Look After Mom - Kyung-Sook Shin [42]
“She’s missing, not ‘isn’t here.’ ”
“So what do you want me to do? You yourself go to work!”
“What?” He picks up a golf club from a corner and is about to hurl it across the room.
“Hyong-chol!” Father is standing at the open door. Hyong-chol puts down the golf club. Father had come to Seoul for his birthday to make it more convenient for his children. If they’d celebrated his birthday, as planned, Mom would have said, “This is celebrating my birthday, too,” sitting at the table in the traditional full-course Korean restaurant where his wife, weeks before, had made a reservation. But with Mom missing, Father’s birthday went by without any celebration, and Aunt took charge of the summer ancestral rites.
He follows Father out.
“It’s all my fault,” Father says, turning around at his granddaughter’s bedroom door.
Hyong-chol is silent.
“Don’t fight. I know what you’re feeling. But fighting doesn’t help anything. Your mom met me and had a hard life. But she is a kind person. So I’m sure she’s at least alive. And if she’s alive, we’ll hear something.”
Hyong-chol stays silent.
“I want to go home now.” Father stares at him for a while, then enters the room. Looking at the closed door, Hyong-chol bites his lip, and heat flares in his chest. He rubs his chest with his hands. He’s about to rub his face with his hands, as is his habit, but stops. He can feel Mom’s gentle touch. Mom hated it when he rubbed his hands or slouched. If he did that in front of her, she immediately straightened his hands and shoulders. If he was about to duck his head, Mom slapped him on the back, telling him, “A man has to be dignified.” He never became a prosecutor. Mom always called it his dream, but he hadn’t understood that it had been Mom’s dream, too. He only thought of it as a youthful wish that couldn’t be achieved; it never occurred to him that he had deflated Mom’s aspirations as well. He realizes that Mom has lived her entire life believing that she was the one who held him back from his dream. I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t keep my promise. His heart brims with the desire to do nothing but look after Mom when she’s found. But he has already lost that chance.
He crumples to his knees on the living-room floor.
3
I’m Home
A YOUNG WOMAN is peeking in, standing in front of the firmly closed blue gate.
“Who are you?” When you clear your throat from behind her, the young woman turns around. She has a smooth forehead and hair tied neatly back, and her eyes shine in delight.
“Hello!” she says.
You just stare at her, and she smiles. “This is Auntie Park So-nyo’s house, right?”
The nameplate of the long-empty house has only your name engraved on it. “Auntie Park So-nyo”—it’s been a long time since you heard someone call your wife Auntie, not Grandma.
“What is it?”
“Isn’t she home?”
You are quiet.
“Is she really missing?”
You gaze at the young woman. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m Hong Tae-hee, from Hope House in Namsan-dong.”
Hong Tae-hee? Hope House?
“It’s an orphanage. I was worried because she hadn’t stopped by in so long, and I came across this.” The woman shows you the newspaper ad your son created. “I’ve come by a couple of times, wondering what happened, but the gate was always locked. I thought I would have to go away empty-handed today, too.… I just wanted to hear what happened. I was supposed to read her a book.…”
You pick up the rock in front of the gate, take the key out from its hiding place, and unlock the gate. Pushing open the gate of the long-vacant house, you look in, hopeful. But it’s silent inside.
You let Hong Tae-hee in. Supposed to read her a book? To your wife? You have never heard your wife mention Hope House or Hong Tae-hee. Hong Tae-hee calls out for your wife as soon as she