30: LIFE IN DISSONANCE

"Falling," by Yeom Shin-Hye and SunWoo Jung-A

                “Yes, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it—Abbeonim, please. You really should go to sleep.”

                Naeil tried to take the box of breakfast supplies from Pastor Lee’s arms without success. He always stayed up so late on Saturday preparing for the next day. Every week, Naeil tried to help him so he would go to sleep sooner, but he always found more work that needed to be done.

                “There,” said Pastor Lee, setting out some napkins and forks on the plastic table. “Now, let me just check the sanctuary…”

                Naeil stood in front of Pastor Lee, stopping his movement.

                “Please,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Please, Abbeonim? I’ll check. You can go ahead and get ready for bed. Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure everything is ready.”

                Pastor Lee hesitated before finally, hesitantly, nodding.

                “Well…alright then, Naeil-ah. I’ll listen to you this time. You’re such a sweet young woman,” he said, patting her on the shoulder and smiling. “You make sure you reach home safely. It’s not good to be out too late at night.”

                “Alright, alright, I’ll hurry,” said Naeil, waving him on. “Sleep well, Abbeonim.”

                She waited for the elderly man to leave the room before closing up the doors, turning off the lights, and heading to the sanctuary. She was surprised to hear sounds coming from inside. Surely Pastor Lee hadn’t gone to the sanctuary regardless?

                No. They were piano notes. Piano notes, but not a melody. It was strange—it didn’t sound like an inexperienced pianist. It wasn’t exactly aimless, just lost. The notes became more inharmonious as they went, morphing into something like musical gibberish, until suddenly there was dissonant bang, as if something fell on the piano keys.

                Naeil snapped out of her trance and flung the door open, running inside.

                There he was. Collapsed on the piano, hands clinging to the edge, shaking. Was it sadness? Anger? Naeil wasn’t sure. She came closer, reaching out one hand to touch him. She pulled it back the next moment, covering and nose in disgust. He reeked of alcohol. It made her head swim. Shouldn’t I leave him here? He probably doesn’t want to see me. Who knows what he’ll do like this.

                Yoongi slowly lifted his head up. The corner of his eye caught sight of Naeil, and he turned to face her.

                “Nae…il-ah…” he slurred. “You’re…here.”

                Naeil froze where she was. Somehow, she was suddenly afraid. She had never seen Yoongi this way. He was wearing the exact same clothes he had been wearing last time they had their piano class—but now they were wrinkled and stained with indistinct splotches. His posture was hopelessly wilted. There was just a hint of black stubble on his upper lip and chin, which looked even more bizarre because of the pale green hair on his head. But it was that hazy look in his eyes got Naeil’s senses on high alert. It made her think that, any moment, he could do something—anything.

                She took a step backward. The movement was done before she consciously thought about it. Aish, why am I being like this? What’s wrong with me? Calm down.

                “Naeil-ah…” groaned Yoongi, rubbing his face with his hands. “Why the hell am I still alive?”

                Naeil nibbled on her lip. “What…what are you talking about?”

                He shifted his body to the edge of the piano bench so he could see her. “Look at me. I’m worthless.” He shrugged. “So. What business do I have existing?”

                “That’s not true. Don’t say things like that.”

                At this, Yoongi chuckled a little. He slapped a hand on the edge of the piano and pulled himself up, looming over Naeil, bringing his face so close it was almost unbearable. She could feel her expression contorting at the overwhelming stench coming from his mouth.

                “Not true?” he whispered. His face was stone serious. “Prove me wrong.”

                She pulled up a hand and placed it on his chest, partially to keep him from coming closer, partially to keep herself from falling backward. It shocked her, the feeling of his chest—and even more, the feeling of his pumping heart, beneath his skin, his muscle, his ribs. It kept on pumping.

                “This,” she said.

                Yoongi scoffed. “My heart?”

                “Not that. Just the fact that you’re living right now.” She looked up at him. “You haven’t died yet. That’s for a reason. There’s a reason you’re alive. Just because you don’t know what it is yet, just because you can’t tell from where you’re standing—it doesn’t mean there’s not a reason.”

                He swatted her hand away and stepped away, but the action caused him to topple and fall. Naeil only moved quickly enough to squat down and catch him by the shoulders before his head hit the ground. She let out a sigh of relief, easing his back to the floor and gently laying his head down. She sat just above him, letting out a sigh of relief.

                “Uwa, who would’ve thought?” said Naeil with a rueful smile. “I guess it isn’t time for you to crack your skull open yet. Looks like you still have some unfinished business here.”

                Yoongi didn’t answer. Naeil figured it was because he was irritated, until she heard a quiet sniff and looked down. His eyes were squeezed shut. Tears poured out, falling down his temples and dripping to the floor. He lifted his hands and covered his face, body jolting with each sob.

                This sudden change made her shift uncomfortably. She didn’t even know Yoongi was capable of shedding a tear, much less weeping like this. Scooching over to his side, Naeil reached out a finger and gently poked at his head.

                “Yah. Sunbae. Are you okay?”

                She poked him again, but this time he grabbed her hand. His head turned and looked at her, giving her a full view of his watery eyes. They had somehow become less hazy in the span of a few moments.

                “Stop that,” he growled, but softly. “You’re annoying me.”

                His long fingers curled around her tiny ones. Naeil’s first instinct was to pull away, but her second was to push her fingers into his. She followed her second instinct.

                “D-do you want me to call…um, that guy you live with?”

                Yoongi shook his head.

                “You can’t just sleep on the floor.”

                Yoongi squeezed Naeil’s fingers. “Do you know that I have a brother?”

                Naeil cleared awkwardly. “Well…yeah, I heard.”

                “Do you know I hadn’t seen him in almost two years?”

                “Do you miss him?”

                There was a pause. Finally, Yoongi made a little nod of his head. “I don’t know…I don’t know why that kid still cares about me. I’ve never done a good thing for him in my life. And now…now…”

                “He’s your brother. Of course he cares about you.”

                “But that doesn’t make sense. He’s not my brother. Not really. We only have a father in common.”

                “Does your father live in Seoul? Don’t you ever see him?”

                Yoongi scoffed. “He doesn’t want to see me. He already threw me away once.”

                “Oh. I guess there are plenty of worthless fathers to go around.”

                Yoongi’s brow wrinkled at this. “What—”

                Before the question could leave his mouth, Naeil yanked her fingers from his and pulled herself up. His hand fell to the floor, empty.

                “Abbeonim. I need to talk to Pastor Lee about you. You can’t just lie here.”

                Yoongi just groaned. He really looked so pathetic, lying there on the floor. Part of Naeil was disgusted with him. At first, she really wanted to leave him there. All she could think about were all those nights her mom came home, stupid drunk and half-dead. But someone saw worth in her. Maybe young Naeil had given up on her mother, but Pastor Lee never did. She could still remember the nights when the pastor would bring her back home, because he had found her wandering on the street outside of the church. Why hadn’t he ever given up on her? Naeil didn’t know that sort of hope, but looking at Yoongi, she really wanted to.

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                “Let’s put him on the bed,” said Pastor Lee, pointing. His other arm was wrapped around the unconscious Yoongi’s shoulder. Naeil did her best to shoulder the majority of the weight.

                “Abbeonim, where are you going to sleep?”

                “He’s not well—”

                “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine on a couch. The one in that office should be okay. He’ll fit.”

                The pastor didn’t try to protest, especially since Naeil was determinedly dragging him in the direction of the office she had indicated. It was slow progress getting down the hallway.

                “I’m sorry I had to wake you up for this,” Naeil murmured.

                “Don’t be silly, child. Thank God you found him before you left.”

                They opened the office door and pulled Yoongi over to the couch. Naeil lifted his feet up on the edge and grunted with the effort it took to turn him onto his side. She remembered the many times she had done the same thing for her mother. Pastor Lee left and came back with a blanket and a pillow, tucking him in carefully. He sighed as they finished, looking down on Yoongi’s face with softening eyes.

                “It breaks my heart to see young people so broken. I pray that he’ll find healing someday, Naeil-ah, I pray he will.”

Author’s Note

I didn't have time to edit this so I hope it doesn't . Ha. Ha. Ha.