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  Gon was still being scrutinized at school. Parents continued to call in to complain about his behavior. I knew that if he got in trouble again, he might have to transfer to another school. Even though Gon was actually just sleeping through classes instead of causing trouble, his reputation still worsened. I often heard kids talking behind his back.

  “Should I go ahead and stir up real shit? Feels like that’s what everybody’s waiting for.” Gon chewed gum noisily, acting nonchalantly. I thought it was just one of his silly jokes. But he wasn’t joking. By the middle of the second semester, Gon started to change. He seemed to be doing everything he could to throw himself into the abyss. He started cussing at whoever met his eyes, like he used to at the beginning of the year. In class, he sat haughtily in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, and deliberately paid no attention to teachers. When they told him off, he glared at them and pretended to correct his behavior, and they moved on without further comment to resume their class in peace.

  Whenever Gon behaved like that, I felt a sudden, heavy rock sinking in my heart. Kind of like when Dora’s hair had touched my skin. But this was different, heavier and ominous.

  59

  It was early November. A downpour brought us into late autumn. I was almost done clearing out the bookstore. I had sold all the books I could sell, and the rest were to be thrown away. I was going to leave this place soon. I had found a room in a shared apartment and was going to stay at Dr. Shim’s place until I moved there. Looking at the empty bookstore, I felt like a chapter of my life had come to a close.

  I turned off the light and breathed in the book smell that still lingered. It was as familiar as the background surrounding me. But I noticed something slightly different carried on the scent. Suddenly a small ember was rekindled in my heart. I wanted to read between the lines. I wanted to be someone who truly understood the meaning of an author’s words. I wanted to know more people, to be able to engage in deep conversations, and to learn what it was to be human.

  At that moment, Dora came into the bookstore. I didn’t say hi. I wanted to tell her about my small ember before it went out.

  “Do you think I could write someday? About myself?”

  Dora’s eyes tickled my cheeks. I continued, “Do you think I could make others understand me, even though I can’t understand myself?”

  “Understand,” Dora whispered, turning to me. Before I knew it, she was right below my chin. Her breath touched my neck and my heart started pounding.

  “Hey, your heart’s beating fast,” Dora murmured. Each syllable from her full lips tickled my jaw. I inhaled deeply without meaning to, drinking in her breath.

  “Do you know why your heart rate is so high now?”

  “No.”

  “Your heart’s excited because I’m close to you, so it’s clapping.”

  “Oh.”

  Our eyes met. But neither of us averted each other’s gaze. She moved closer to me, her eyes locked on mine. Before I had time to think, her lips brushed against my lips. They felt like a cushion. Her soft, moist lips slowly pressed into mine. And just like that, we breathed three times. Our chests moved up and down, and up and down, and up and down. Then we lowered our heads at the same time. Our lips parted as our foreheads touched.

  “I think I just understood a little about who you are,” Dora said, gazing down at the floor. I was also looking down. Her shoelaces were untied. One end was hiding under my shoe.

  “You’re nice. And you’re normal. But you’re also special. That’s how I understand you.”

  Dora looked up, her cheeks flushed. “Am I,” she whispered, “qualified to be in your story now?”

  “Maybe.”

  She laughed. “That’s not a good enough answer.” Then she skipped out the door.

  My knees gave up and I slowly slumped down. My head had emptied of thoughts, filled only with racing pulses. My whole body was beating like a drum. Stop it. Stop. You don’t have to try so hard to prove that I’m alive. I wanted to tell my body if only I could. I shook my head a couple times. There were more and more things I couldn’t expect in life. Just then, I felt someone staring and looked up. Gon was standing outside the window. We stared at each other for a few seconds. A faint smile ran across his face. Then he turned around and slowly disappeared from view.

  60

  Our school field trip was to Jeju Island. Some kids didn’t want to go, but just because you didn’t want to go did not qualify as a valid excuse. Only three students from the entire school didn’t go, including myself. The other two were competing in math contests, and as for me, I had to look after Mom, which was an excuse the school had to accept.

  I went to the empty school and read books all day long. As a formality, a substitute science teacher was there to take attendance. Three days passed, and the kids came back. For some reason, everyone seemed uneasy.

  Something had happened on the last day of the trip. The night before the kids were due back, while everyone was asleep, the money that had been collected to buy class snacks had disappeared. The teachers searched through everyone’s belongings and found the cash envelope inside Gon’s backpack. It had half the original amount. Gon pleaded innocence. He actually had an alibi. He had snuck out to the Jeju streets and stayed out until the following morning. A local PC bang owner was his witness. Gon had spent all night at the Internet cafe, playing games and drinking beer.

  Still, everyone said that Gon had stolen the money. Whether he had made someone else steal it or plotted the theft as part of a group didn’t matter. It was Gon who did it. Everyone said so.

  Gon didn’t care. He continued to sleep through his classes after returning from the trip. That afternoon, Professor Yun was summoned to the school. Kids said he had reimbursed all the money. They had their noses buried in their phones all day, texting one another. Their Kakao Talk buzzed here and there. I didn’t have to read their texts to know what they were gossiping about.

  61

  Things came to a head several days later, during Korean class. Gon had woken up mid-nap and walked drowsily to the back of the classroom. The teacher ignored him and carried on with the class. Then the class heard a loud noise of chewing gum. Of course, it was Gon.

  “Spit it out,” said the teacher, who was retiring soon and did not tolerate bad behavior. Gon didn’t respond. The sound of his chewing pierced the heavy, silent air.

  “Spit it out or leave.” As soon as the teacher said it, Gon spat out the gum. It drew a parabola and landed on someone’s shoe. The teacher slammed his textbook shut.

  “Follow me.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” Gon said, leaning his back against the wall, clasping his hands behind his head. “What can you do anyway? Take me to the teachers’ lounge and threaten me? Or call that douchebag who calls himself my dad? If you wanna hit me, go ahead. If you wanna swear at me, go ahead. What’s stopping you, huh? Be honest with yourselves for once! You fucktards.”

  The teacher didn’t bat an eyelid, something he had possibly learned through decades of teaching. He just stared at Gon for a couple of seconds and then walked out of the classroom. Chaos erupted in his wake. Silent chaos, in which each of us just stared down at our books.

  “Any of you assholes wanna earn some money? Come on out,” Gon said with a sly snicker. “Anyone wanna take some beating for cash? I’ll pay you depending on how hard I beat you. A punch in the face is a hundred thousand won. If you bleed, you get an extra five hundred. Two million for a broken bone. Any takers?”

  The classroom was filled with the sound of Gon’s heavy breathing.

  “Why so quiet, huh? Aren’t you little shits up for extra cash to buy snacks? How are you gonna survive in this tough world when you’re all a bunch of pussies? Stupid, useless motherfuckers!”

  He emphasized that last word so hard that it echoed out into the hallway. His body was trembling and a disturbing smile played across his lips as they twitched. Frankly, he looked like he was about to cry.

/>   “Stop,” I said. Gon’s eyes sparked.

  “What did you say?” He stood up straight with his fists clenched. “Stop, then what? Should I like, bow and apologize, or write an apology letter or something? Should I fuckin’ crawl on four legs and beg for forgiveness? Why don’t you tell me exactly what to do? What should I do, fucking asshole!”

  I couldn’t say anything. Because Gon was hurling everything he could get his hands on. The shrilling eeks of the girls and the low, panicked uhhs of the boys created a strange dissonant chorus that pierced my ears. Gon trashed the classroom in a matter of seconds. Desks and chairs were thrown upside down and the frames and timetables mounted on the wall hung crooked. It was like Gon had grabbed the whole classroom and shaken it up. The kids stuck close to the wall as if there had been an earthquake. Just then, I heard a sound. Soft but clear, yet it was as earsplitting as a scream.

  “You piece of trash . . .”

  Gon turned toward the sound. Dora stood there.

  “Get lost. Don’t stir shit up here. Go back to where you belong.”

  Her face wore an expression I couldn’t quite comprehend. Her eyes, her nose, her lips were all doing something different. Her eyebrows had shot up, and her nostrils were slightly flared. Her lips were curled but for some reason they were trembling.

  Just then, the classroom door flung open as the homeroom teacher came rushing in, accompanied by several other teachers. But before they could do anything, Gon had already slipped out the back door. Nobody called him back or went after him. Not even me.

  62

  Gon showed up at the bookstore that night. He carelessly banged on the empty bookshelves as he talked to me.

  “What a player. The robot has a girlfriend now, huh? How does it feel to have a girl who sticks up for you? I was literally struck dumb when she told me to get lost. Lucky bastard, I’m jealous you’re getting so much of what you can’t even feel.”

  I was speechless. With a dismissive wave of his hand, Gon said, “Hey, no need to get all tensed up, it’s just you and me.” Then looking straight into my eyes, he said, “But I have a question.” Finally getting to the point: “Do you also think I did it?”

  “You know I didn’t even go on the field trip.”

  “Just answer me. Do you think it was me who stole the money?”

  “Are you asking me about the possibility?”

  “Yeah, if you say so. The possibility that I did it.”

  “Well, it’s possible that anyone who was there could’ve done it.”

  “And I’m by far the most likely one?” He nodded with a smile.

  “If you’re asking for my honest opinion,” I said slowly, “I’m not surprised that everyone thought it was you. They have plenty of reasons to think so. They probably can’t think of anyone else.”

  “I see. I thought so too. That’s why I didn’t bother insisting I was innocent. You know, I told them, just once, that it wasn’t me. But it was useless. I didn’t want to waste my breath so I kept my mouth shut. But then that ‘father’ of mine just went right ahead and paid off the stolen money without even asking me. Must’ve been at least a couple hundred thousand won. Should I be proud of having such a father?”

  I didn’t say a word. Gon remained silent for a while too.

  “But you know I didn’t do it,” he said, his tone inflecting slightly upward at the end of his sentence. A beat of silence went by. “So anyway, maybe I should live exactly as people expect me to live. That’s what I’m great at, anyway.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I told you last time, I want to be strong. I’ve thought a lot about this. About what I should do to get strong. I could either study hard or work out and make myself strong. But you know, that’s not my thing. It’s too late. I’m too old.”

  “You’re too old?” I repeated after him. Old. As I looked at him, for a moment I really thought he might be right.

  “Yeah, I’m too old. Too old to go back.”

  “So?” I asked.

  “So, I’m going to be stronger. In my own way. In the way that feels most natural to me. I like to win. If I can’t protect myself from being hurt, I’d rather hurt other people.”

  “How?”

  “Dunno, but it won’t be too hard. I’m already familiar with that kind of world.” Gon sniggered. I wanted to say something but he was already heading out the door. Then he wheeled around and said, “We might not see each other from now on. So instead of a goodbye kiss, take this.” He winked and slowly raised his middle finger. He wore a soft smile. That was the last time I saw him smile that way. Then he disappeared.

  And then, tragedy unfolded rapidly.

  Part Four

  63

  The real thief turned out to be someone else. It was the boy at the beginning of the school year who had asked out loud how I’d felt seeing Granny killed before my eyes. He went to the homeroom teacher and admitted that he’d planned everything by himself. His purpose was not the money, but to set someone up just to see how people would react. When the homeroom teacher asked him why he would do such a thing, he simply replied, “Thought it might be fun.”

  But that didn’t mean the kids felt sorry for Gon. Whatever, Yun Leesu would’ve stirred up trouble sooner or later. I glimpsed such messages over my shoulder in the chats on their phones.

  * * *

  Professor Yun looked gaunt, as if he hadn’t eaten for days. He leaned against the wall and moved his dry, cracked lips.

  “I’ve never hit anyone in my whole life. I’ve never thought a beating would solve anything. But, but I beat Leesu. Twice. I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.”

  “One time was at the pizzeria. I saw you through the window,” I said.

  He nodded. “I made a settlement with the restaurant owner. Fortunately, no one was injured, and the matter was resolved. That night, I forced him to get in the car and we went home. We didn’t speak a word on our way back or after we got home. I just went straight to my room.” His voice began to tremble. “Things have changed a lot since Leesu returned. I didn’t even have the time to grieve over my wife’s death. She might have dreamed of a home where all of us lived together. But actually I found it difficult to be living with Leesu. I couldn’t stop thinking even as I read books or lay on my bed: What made him grow up like that? Who on earth should be blamed?”

  Professor Yun took a few deep breaths before adding, “When sadness and disappointment get out of control, and there is no solution, people start thinking bad thoughts. I did too . . . I often imagined what it would’ve been like if he wasn’t here, if he’d never come back . . .”

  His shoulders began to heave.

  “You know what the worst part is? I’ve actually thought that things might’ve been better than they are now if we’d never had him, if that boy had never been born. Yes, I’ve had such terrible thoughts about my son, my own flesh and blood. Oh my, I can’t believe I just told you all this . . .”

  Tears streaked down his neck and rolled onto his sweater. Soon he was sobbing so hard I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I made a cup of hot chocolate and handed it to him.

  “I heard you were close friends with Leesu. That you came over to our house once. How could you still treat him like that? After everything he did to you.”

  “Because Gon is a good kid.”

  “You think so?”

  Yes. I know. That Gon is a good kid. But if someone asked me to talk about him in more detail, I’d only be able to say that he beat me and hurt me, he ripped apart a butterfly, he set his face against the teachers, and threw things at my classmates. That’s how language is. It is as hard as proving that Leesu and Gon are the same person. So, I simply said, “I just know he is.”

  Professor Yun smiled at my words. The smile lasted for about three seconds and suddenly broke. Because he started crying again.

  “Thank you, for thinking of him that way.”

  “Then why are you crying?”


  “Because I feel sorry I couldn’t think of him the same way. And because it’s ridiculous that I feel grateful hearing someone else say he’s a good person . . .” he stammered, sobbing. Just before he left, he asked one last thing, a little hesitantly.

  “If you ever hear from him, could you give him my words? To please come back?”

  “Why do you want me to say those words?”

  “Well, I’m embarrassed to say this as an adult. But things happened one after another without stopping. And I had no time to devote attention to and care for each one. I would like another chance to get things right this time,” he said.

  “I’ll tell him,” I promised.

  * * *

  All kinds of thoughts went through my mind. If Professor Yun could go back in time, would he have chosen not to have Gon? If he had, the couple wouldn’t have lost Gon in the first place. Mrs. Yun wouldn’t have been ill from guilt and died of regret. All the trouble Gon caused wouldn’t have happened either. If you think about it that way, then it would’ve been better if Gon had never been born. Because, more than anything, he wouldn’t have had to feel so much pain and loss. But everything loses its meaning if you think that way. Only purpose remains. Barren.

  * * *

  It was early dawn, but I was still wide awake. I had something to tell Gon. I had to say I was sorry. Sorry for pretending to be his mother’s son, sorry for keeping from him that I’d made another friend. And finally, sorry for not telling him that I knew he didn’t steal the money and that I believed him.

  64

  I had to find Gon. That meant first I’d have to find that kid called Steamed Bun.

  The school he went to was in the middle of a red-light district. It was surprising that anyone would ever decide to build a school there, of all places. Maybe the seediness of the district developed after the school was built, but still. The yellow-brown rays of the afternoon sun stretched across the schoolyard, where kids who looked nothing like students were smoking.