Blood Sisters Page 11

  He shakes his head. “I think we have a flat.”

  “Don’t you have a spare?” Sol asks.

  “There is one, but I’ve never replaced my tire before. There has to be a mechanic’s shop nearby. Perhaps we can replace the tire and ask about the address there.”

  “If you don’t mind, I can take care of it. I’ve replaced tires before,” Sol says.

  “Really?”

  “I’ve done it several times. I have a driver’s license—a Handicapped Driver’s license, but I have it regardless—and I drive trucks and tractors.”

  Eunyong and I get out of the car and squat by the tire to watch Sol and Jihyun change it, like its entertainment. They take out the spare tire and the tools from the trunk, neatly laying out the wrench and a few other tools I don’t know the names of. They lean the spare tire against the flat. Sol places the jack under the joint under the car and carefully lifts the car with the jack. Jihyun helps her pull out the flat tire. Sol in a familiar manner puts the spare in place and tightens the nuts.

  I reach out and take Sol’s hand covered in grease. “Sol. I don’t want to go to the address.”

  “That’s fine,” Sol replies nonchalantly, unsurprised.

  “Why not?!” I turn to see Eunyong glaring at me from behind.

  “Just because.” Then I call out to Jihyun, “Can you take us back to the university?”

  * * *

  “Listen, I don’t care if this is my mother or not. Even if, by slim chance, she is my biological mother … I can’t get over that she never reached out to me. Not even once. I thought she was dead or living somewhere abroad, but no, she just never tried to reach me. Why should I reach out to her, when she’s perfectly happy without me? You know?”

  “There must be a reason, maybe a difficult reason behind that decision,” Jihyun carefully speaks up.

  I press on. “Please don’t interrupt me,” I say and return to explaining myself to Sol and Eunyong. “I’m going to stay at Jihyun’s place tonight. Please don’t take that the wrong way. I just don’t have anywhere to go right now. Can you imagine me going back to the room at the café after all that? Or me crashing in Sol’s tiny dorm room? No way. I plan to see my dad tomorrow. I’m going to get him to tell me what happened with my mom, who I am to him. I’ve been avoiding all these questions for a long time, but not anymore. I’m going to see him, get the answers, and then announce my independence from him.”

  “Don’t worry, no one will or can stop you.” Sol holds me and dishevels my hair with her dirty hand.

  “You are one stubborn girl, Yeoul! You’re so close to where your mom is, and you’re not going go see her?” Eunyong speaks up.

  “She’s the one who abandoned me. I’m going to wait until she seeks me. That might take a thousand years, but I’m still going to wait.”

  Other than occasionally looking over his shoulder to the back seat where we sit, Jihyun drives in silence. There is no music playing in the car. The evening street starts to light up. The Youngdo Bridge is not beautiful. Will I be crossing this bridge again someday? Will I find my mother if I climb down to search under this bridge?

  “Yeoul. You unlucky, wretched girl. Stop crying. I found you as a crying newborn under the Youngdo Bridge. I decided to adopt you, because you looked so sad. You were swaddled like an abandoned package. But if you keep on crying like that, I’m going to take you right back to the bridge and leave you there just how I found you.”

  My grandmother told me that story when I begged to leave the late-night town party so we could go home. She hit me in the head with her knuckles. Her breath stank, and her teeth were covered in pepper powder and chives. She told me the same story the evening she didn’t feed me. She was busy getting drunk on rice wine. She also told me there’s no point in going to school. A pathetic alcoholic, a shriveled-up crone. The worst liar in the world was Grandma.

  I notice Sol is sound asleep, leaning on my shoulder. She is like a small bird. Thank you for flying to me. I hold her hand with both of mine. Her hand is rough, small, and bony. For some reason I tear up. You keep me going, Sol. Like that spare tire, I was tucked away and forgotten in a dark corner for the longest time. I’ve been an understudy in waiting, never the lead actor of my own life. That’s going to change. Now I’m going to do whatever I like. I will keep going. I need you close when I waste away. Don’t you dare die before me. If you die, I’m gonna kill you! Sol turns her head as my shoulder trembles from sobbing.

  “Mmm … yum.” Sounds like she’s eating in her dreams. Maybe she’s eating one of her mother’s apples—the most delicious apples I’ve ever had—after rubbing it clean against her pants.

  Bruschetta con Formaggio e Miele & a Lollipop

  In Jihyun’s home, a long antique sofa stands on the carpet in the living room. It feels cozy. There’s a tree in the corner of the living room, the same kind as the one in the vestibule (lush and green), potted in a ceramic pot.

  “It doesn’t ask for much care. As long as you water it regularly and keep it in the sun it’s happy. My mom thinks they help purify the air.” Jihyun nervously puts on his slippers only to take them off.

  “Who waters it?” I ask, reaching for the tree. When my hand touches it, several leaves fall off, making rustling sounds. “What was that noise? Do you have a cat?”

  “Huh? I didn’t hear anything. We can’t have pets in this apartment complex. Before my family moved here we had a Yorkshire terrier, a poodle, and a cat. We even had a hedgehog, haha. My father is a real animal lover.”

  “I had a cat. Her name was Leche. Leche liked drinking, well, leche. Isn’t that cute? She was limber, adorable, and extremely possessive. I like to think she is doing well without me.”

  What are we even talking about? What is this? I suddenly feel depressed, so I walk around and explore the space instead. Why am I here? Nobody told me to come here, I walked in with my own two feet, so why am I having these thoughts? I knock my head with my knuckles.

  The living room looks like a gallery. Several pictures of his family are hanging on the wall. You can see the chronological progression through the series of pictures: the more Jihyun ages, the more closely he resembles his father. It looks like he will end up bald.

  In the first picture, Jihyun is younger than ten. He looks as though he just popped a cherry candy into his mouth. His lips are red, his cheeks are plump, and his eyes are glowing in sweet ecstasy. In the next picture his eyes look the same— large and pretty with his creaseless eyelids—but his facial structure has elongated. His skin tone is so light to the point that he looks translucent.

  Looking at these pictures I start wondering: how does a person show improvement with age? People say one matures with time, but how does it manifest? Does the energy in one’s eyes change? Does one grow more considerate toward others? Does one show more humility? More self-control? Become more patriotic? As I age, will I become more patient and cultivate a loving attitude toward others? Will I become selfless? Will that really happen just because of age? I remember the day my high school principal retired. It was a particularly hot day and the sun was blazing. During the retirement ceremony the students were told to stand in an open field with no shade, while the principal, and only the principal, got an awning over his head. He went on and on about his accomplishments. People like to say that teaching is a selfless and noble vocation, but he seemed pretty self-absorbed, oblivious to the students’ wish for his speech to end so we could clap a bit and head back into the classroom. I don’t even remember that oblivious asshole’s name. What does it mean to become a “grown-up?” How does one go about doing that, growing up? Will I just become like my parents? I’d like to know if I can actually become a better person. Will I survive long enough to look back at my life and reflect on it fondly?

  The last picture, hung closest to the kitchen, is from Jihyun’s high school graduation. He is surrounded by a crowd and looks sullen and unhappy with a bouquet of flowers in his arms. It’s as though he doesn�
�t want to graduate. His parents are standing on either side of him, forcing a painfully awkward smile. It’s in this picture I start noticing his familiar melancholy look. Is this when his parents started talking about separating?

  “Stop examining the pictures so closely. You’re making me feel self-conscious.”

  “Whatever, you look so cute in all these pictures.”

  “Try this.” Jihyun, scratching his head, passes a white plate with a toast topped with melted cheese, marbled white and yellow.

  I bite into it and exclaim: “This is so good! So warm and moist … I think I smell acacia flower honey? What’s in it?” I grab the toast with both hands and messily devour it.

  “Slow down, there’s more. It’s called bruschetta con formaggio e miele. You have to use good cheese and honey to make it right. My dad sent me a postcard with the recipe. He likes making this.”

  “He sounds like a sweet guy.”

  “He is. A gentle and kind man. So I have a hard time understanding my mother’s choice. If she didn’t have the affair, we’d still be a happy family.”

  “Do you hate your mom for that?”

  “What? How could I hate my own mother? Without her, I wouldn’t exist. I wouldn’t have met you. My mom is … different. She doesn’t think like a normal person. It might be because she’s a lesbian. No, I don’t know. She has too much love to give. She is an open-minded go-getter, intelligent … but she’s too different from my father.” Jihyun pours out his thoughts. He must have been bottling this up. “My dad learned about the affair while he was struggling after his larynx surgery. He couldn’t sing professionally anymore. It must’ve hit him really hard. He made up stories about studying abroad in Italy, and just like that, he left, and I …” Tears well up in Jihyun’s eyes. He shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m boring you with my sob story.”

  “No, you aren’t.” I reach across the table and gently touch the back of his hand. “Your hands are so soft, softer than mine.”

  “It’s your turn, Yeoul. Tell me about yourself. Your parents, your brother, your childhood.”

  “You know some of it. I told you some when you were visiting me at the hospital.”

  “Yeah … wait, we are using the honorific again. Okay, let’s make some rules so we won’t keep reverting back to it. There will be a penalty for using the honorific.”

  “A penalty?”

  “You have to grant the other his or her wish.”

  “Okay. Starting … now!” A long silence follows. I smile a bit, and get up to explore his house, checking out one room and then the other, and then go into the bathroom. The wall and the floor are covered in spotless white tiles. I don’t see a single strand of hair on the floor. He must have a maid who comes every day. In this mirror I look vibrant and rosy-cheeked. I wash my hands and turn around to get out of the bathroom, but stop myself to rinse my mouth first. I sit down on the sofa, and the cuckoo bird jumps out of the clock to chirp eleven times. Jihyun breaks the silence.

  “You must be tired,” he says and laughs. For some reason Jihyun keeps bursting out laughing. What’s so funny? He pauses, puts on a straight face, and tries speaking in a serious tone: “Yeoul, you must be exhausted. Going on a road trip right after being discharged was too much.”

  “Nah, I had fun. Jihyun, how much older are you? Do you really like me dropping the honorific tone when we talk?”

  “Yes. I love it. And to answer your question: I’m ten years older than you.”

  “Yeh? What? Ten years?!”

  “Penalty!” Jihyun exclaims.

  “Huh?”

  “You just used the honorific!”

  “That was out of reflex. I was startled because I thought you were nine years older than me. You said so before. How old are you again?”

  “I’m thirty this year.”

  “I’m twenty-one. So you are nine years older than me. Why did you lie earlier?”

  He giggles. “I wanted to scare you into blurting something out in the honorific tone. Now you must face the penalty.”

  “That’s cheating. That doesn’t count. We have to start over. Okay, no honorific tone, starting … now!”

  “I didn’t cheat, and that totally counts. Remember you have to grant me one wish?”

  I don’t respond.

  “My wish is …”

  “If it’s anything tricky, I’m not gonna do it.”

  “My wish is for reunification of the Korean Peninsula!9 Just kidding. I just want a kiss.”

  “That’s it? Alright, you can’t change your mind about it. Come over here.” Jihyun scoots over, and I lean in to kiss him. I feel his pulse speed up, but I don’t feel anything myself. Why don’t I feel excited? Is it because this kiss was imposed on me as a “penalty?” He wraps his arms around me, his hands on my back, and pulls me down to lie on top of his body. I kiss him from above, and his tongue slides onto mine. I taste the honey and cheese from earlier. I rise from his body.

  “Are you feeling tired?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. You can take a bath. I’ll fill the tub for you.” Jihyun gets up from the sofa and staggers to the bathroom. I hear the sound of running water. He emerges back out.

  “Jihyun, are you feeling alright? You seem a little off.”

  “No, just nervous.”

  “What are you nervous about?”

  “We are going to be sleeping side by side. When I open my eyes in the morning, you’ll be right there. It feels like a dream. Don’t you feel nervous?”

  “Not really. Your place is cozy and nice. Much better than the hospital room.”

  “Huh. How could you not be nervous to be alone with a man?”

  “Dunno. I surprise myself like that.”

  “Have you … slept with a man before?”

  “Why?”

  “Just answer me.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m a virgin, a bachelor and a virgin.”

  “You seem proud of that. Are you one of those people who thinks premarital virginity is everything? Some girls I know told me their lives were ruined when they lost their virginity, their ‘innocence.’ Innocence is a funny idea to attach to the concept of virginity. How does that work exactly? What, when a hymen breaks, so does her ‘innocence?’ When a woman gets raped, people act like she becomes some sort of scarlet-letter-carrying sinner, as if she deserves to die. If something like that happens to me I’m not gonna kill myself to make other people more comfortable.10 I’m going to hunt down the rapist, and get him punished through due process. It’s not the woman’s fault that someone sexually assaulted her. Rape isn’t, and shouldn’t be, only talked about in a hushed tone. This isn’t the same thing, but still, I see a similar pattern even when it comes to lovers. Why is it that it’s okay to talk about cuddling and kissing, but once sex is involved everybody has to act secretive? Do I have to act coy, act like I’m a virgin, until I get married? Do you have to? I don’t know. As long as one can take responsibility for one’s actions, why should anyone … I just don’t know. Lately I feel like I’m in danger wherever I go, like I’m walking through landmines. Did you notice the men loitering by the hospital earlier? I felt like they were looking at me. Sungyun is part of a gang, you know. Rape isn’t just something that happens to women you don’t know. Something could happen to me. Innocence, virginity … I just want to get rid of it on my own terms. By my choice. I don’t want someone to ‘take it.’”

  I realize I’ve been rambling, like the school principal on his retirement day. I burn with self-loathing. I suppose we learn from what we hate.

  “Yeoul, you don’t sound like yourself. What got you so excited? Your voice got louder, and you are so eloquent when you are angry. I haven’t seen this side of you. It’s almost chilling.”

  “This is what I’ve been thinking all day, and everyday while I was at the hospital.”

  “Forget about Sungyun and what happened that night. Everything is going to be okay. I will protect you. Forget abo
ut it, and if you can forgive him, even better. Remember that your friend is pregnant with his child, and he might end up marrying her. You have to be considerate of your friend’s life, right? Are you crying?”

  When Jihyun pats my shoulders, I break down. It hurts. I’m so fucking hurt. The tears won’t stop. This is the first time I bawled like this since Jimin died. The throw pillow I’m holding in my arms gets soaked.

  “I understand how you feel. Do you feel better? You’ll feel even better if you wash up and go to bed.” Jihyun guides me to the bathroom with his arm around my shoulder. He must have put in bubble bath because the tub is filled with bubbles, overflowing onto the floor, making it slippery. The mirror is foggy. We walk barefoot. He checks the water and then approaches me to hold me from behind. He takes off my new denim jacket and the tshirt with the golden skull, he undoes the brassiere. I cover my breasts with my hands.

  “I’ll stop here. When I feel sad, I take a bath like this. You’ll feel better soaking in a nice warm bath.” Jihyun turns to head out.

  “Join me. The tub is large enough for both of us.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” I whine.

  “Just because.”

  “You’re starting to sound like me. Answer me. Why not?”

  “… I’d want to have sex with you if we got naked together. I want to wait till our marriage.”

  “You want to marry me?”

  “Yes, of course, if you’d agree, that is. Didn’t you see the basket of roses the other month? I left a note about that. I felt a little hurt that you didn’t say anything about it.”

  “Wait, that basket of roses? There was no name in the card. I thought it was misdelivered!”

  “I thought you’d just know it was me.”

  “Jesus … Look at you, mumbling behind my back. You act as though you’re afraid of me. Why can’t you look at me straight here?” I uncover my breasts and turn around, and Jihyun slams the door behind him. I want to see a naked man in real life. I want to see if male bodies are really as gorgeous as they are in art, like the statue of David. I want to show my body to the person I choose. I want to share the burden of innocence with him. Is he an ascetic? Autistic? Does he despise me for offering myself like this? Ugh, I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t want me. Nana or Leche wouldn’t take a good look either without the imported dry food I fed them. I enter the tub and blow the soap bubbles, breathing in the luxurious floral smell. I dunk my face into the warm water and hold my breath. I love the way the water hugs my body. I lie down and try floating.