Chapter Fourteen: Beside A Long Lost Father

                Mrs. Kim tried to convince her son not to meet the person who had been absent in their lives for the past fourteen years, but Myung-soo was determined to finally meet his father. He wanted to know his side of the story. If his mother really look at him as the bad person, then he should at least try to hear him out, right?

                Myung-soo had no other information about his father. His mother didn’t tell him anything after he discovered that his father was alive, while everybody refused to disclose anything about him. So it was all left to Myung-soo to discover things about his father.

                Auntie Woo-kyung gave him the address to where his father was staying. According to her, it wasn’t that far from the main house, and still inside the vicinity of the farm, and since there are very few houses inside the farm it wouldn’t be so hard to do, so Myung-soo decided to go and search for the house on his own.

                After a mile and a half of walk on dirt roads and some muddy puddles, Myung-soo found the house. It was small, but probably enough for one person to live in. It stood near a river, with a horse tied to a tree beside the house.

                Myung-soo called on for his father, but unexpectedly, a little girl came out of the house instead. “Appa isn’t here at the moment,” the little girl said which surprised Myung-soo. He already had a new family? Then someone called on from inside the house and moments later a lady at her early twenties were standing by the door, beside the little girl. “Annyeong haseyo? How may I help you?”

                “I’m looking for my–” should he say father? Myung-soo hesitated so instead he used his father’s name, “I’m looking for Kim Seung-woo.”

                “Ah, Seung-woo sshi isn’t here. He’s probably on his house,” the lady said.

                “You mean, this is not Seung-woo sshi’s house?” Myung-soo said.

                “Anieyo,” the little girl told him, “this is our house. Omma and I.”

                “If you want to see him, go to the house near the Yoo’s. The old wooden house a few blocks away. You’ll recognize it easily because of the vines and burnt wood.”

                Vines and burnt wood made him remember the old house he saw on their way to his grandmother’s house. After bidding goodbye, Myung-soo went on his trail back to the old house but questions kept on surfacing on his mind. Did my father really married again? What could have possibly happened between him and mother that made her want to see him no more? Moreover, consider him dead?

                 He made it to the house. It was bigger than it seems from afar, but age and lack of care was even more evident when seeing it up close. Myung-soo approached the door only to find it ajar. Am I going to come in? Should I call out his name? Should I call him abeoji? But his trail of thoughts were cut when someone spoke his name behind him. “Myung-soo?”

                “I didn’t expect to find the grandson of the Yoo’s in front of my house,” Seung-woo started. Him and Myung-soo were already inside the house, sitting opposite each other with teacups on their hands. Myung-soo looked at the man in front of him, focusing on the eyes. Their eyes looked the same, indeed. “What brings you here?” Seung-woo said.

                “Seung-woo sshi,” Myung-soo said, “Do you know anything about my father.” Myung-soo noticed how Seung-woo’s body suddenly tense as soon as he said the word father. Seung-woo laid the cup he was holding and sat up straight.

                “I,” Seung-woo paused and looked at Myung-soo in the eye, “…know a lot about him, though I do have the feeling that you already knew him.”

                “Why did you left us?” Myung-soo said but he suddenly changed his question, “Anieyo, what happened… to our family?”

                “That’s a pretty blunt question,” Seung-woo said, “Did your mother tell you that I left you?” Myung-soo nodded, but with full attention to him. “It’s true. Believe her,” Seung-woo said.

                “But I’m not here just to believe a lie,” Myung-soo said, “she told me that you were dead. I’m here to know the real story.”

              “Please, tell me what happened between you and mother?” Myung-soo persisted, “I have to know, father, please.” Seung-woo sighed before getting up and going to one cabinet on the side. After a few moments he went back with a thick photo album on his hand. “Let us first reminisce some memories,” he said before sitting beside Myung-soo and placing the album in front of them.

                “Open it,” Seung-woo told him, and Myung-soo lifted the hard bound cover to reveal a family picture: Seung-woo and his mother Min-yu, holding a baby in her arms. Myung-soo traced the baby in the picture, “Is this… me?”

                “Yes, it’s you,” Seung-woo said, “that’s our picture when you were a year old.” Seung-woo nodded at Myung-soo to encourage him to continue.

                The next pictures Myung-soo saw were his first birthday pictures. One picture showed him sitting over an old lady’s lap whom he learned later on to be his grandmother. “You were crying that day and we were so worried about you, but only your grandmother managed to make you stop,” Seung-woo said. “Apparently you hated seeing a lot of people and just needed some silence.”

                Myung-soo smiled a little because of that. Who would have thought he’d become the same when even when he already grew up. Myung-soo turned the page to find a picture of his young self in front of a bunch of gifts. Below the picture was another picture that showed him holding a ukulele that looked big on his small hands.

                “That’s your first gift,” Seung-woo told him with much enthusiasm, “and that’s from me. I was so glad that you chose that gift that I bought you a regular sized guitar a week after. But of course you couldn’t use it back then so I kept it safe until the time you could use it.”

                “Guitar? Is its color red?” Myung-soo said, which apparently surprised Seung-woo. “Yes, and made with the finest wood,” Seung-woo said, “so, your mother brought it with you when you moved out.”

                We moved out? Of course we did, because if we didn’t, then we’d still be living here. “What happened? Why did we… left?” Myung-soo said. His father’s smile slightly wavered before he spoke, “you’ll know when you turn to the next page.”

                Myung-soo did turn the page like what Seung-woo said, and what caught him by surprise was the picture of a boy holding the baby Myung-soo on his arms, the boy looked awful lot like…

                “He’s the reason why,” Seung-woo said, “Your mother couldn’t accept him and the fact that I had a son out of wedlock.”

                “You mean he’s my –”

                “– half brother, Myung-soo,” Seung-woo said. Myung-soo stayed silent for a while, too silent that it made Seung-woo worry for him, “I shouldn’t have told you,” he said.

                “No, it’s alright, but then…” Myung-soo said, “why couldn’t mom accept him? Mom has always been liberal, so open minded… I don’t that’s the only reason why she couldn’t accept him.”

                “You’re right,” Seung-woo said, “that’s not the only reason.” And that was when Seung-woo told him the whole back story.

                Myung-soo’s mother Min-yu and his aunt Woo-kyung has a sister older than both of them, Soo-young. At an early age, she fell in love and went away with the man she loved, only to come back after more than a year as a corpse. Min-yu swore she would never do the same mistake that her sister did, so after five years, when she met the guy of her dreams, he waited for three years before giving her hand to him. They married, and had a child, but then she learned about the secret the man was keeping, and that was…

                “I was the man Soo-young fell in love with,” Seung-woo said, “and we had a son.”

                “That’s it? Mother hated him because of that?” Myung-soo said.

                “No, of course not,” Seung-woo took the album with him before he stood up and held out his hand in front of him. “Would you mind if you accompany me to the kitchen?” he said and Myung-soo slowly reached out for his hand. “This is the reason why,” Seung-woo said as soon as they stepped into the kitchen.

                “Wh-what happened here?” Myung-soo managed to say as he laid eyes on the charcoaled walls of what he assumed to be the kitchen.

                “You were three back then,” Seung-woo said, “Your mother and I went to the city to buy some goods. And we left you and your brother under the supervision of your grandmother. Your grandmother fell asleep, and your brother thought of cooking something to eat.”

                “He caused this?” Myung-soo said.

                “Yes,” Seung-woo said. “When we came back here, the fire was already out. You and your grandmother were alright. Your brother too. He made sure he was able to bring you out of the house as soon as the fire started, but then your mother was too outraged that she made me choose between you and your brother.”

                “Your mother threatened to leave with you if I chose your brother, but then, if I left him there would be no one left in his life anymore. He had no mother, and I couldn’t deny him the chance to have a father, and so I stayed,” Seung-woo said.

                “So, that was the last time you heard about me,” Myung-soo stated, but Seung-woo quickly told him, “Not really.” Seung-woo opened the album and placed it in front of Myung-soo. “This was a picture when you were in preschool.”

                There were four young boys in the picture. There was the young Myung-soo in the arms of his elder brother, and another young kid in the arms of who Myung-soo suppose to be the kid’s elder brother. The elder brother looked similarly like…

                “Lee Ho-won?” Myung-soo muttered.

                “When you left, your brother insisted that he wanted to study in a boarding school in the city. He gave me a specified name of school. At first I didn’t know what’s his reason, but then he gave me this picture,” Seung-woo said. “He studied to the grade school that he found closest to your school.”

                “I remember him telling me, ‘father, you don’t have to worry too much anymore. I’ll always protect him, and I’ll make sure he’s happy, healthy and safe,’” Seung-woo said. “For two years, whenever the goes home during weekends, he would give me new pictures, and I was so happy because aside from the fact that I didn’t feel that I lost a lot of time away from you, your brother also gained friends that he could have never had if he stayed here at the farm.”

                “What happened after two years?” Myung-soo managed to ask. He couldn’t understand why, but his tears were already b.

                “After two years,” Seung-woo stopped and when Myung-soo looked at him, he could see a pained expression on his face. “Your brother… wasn’t able to fulfill his promise anymore.” Myung-soo waited for his father to continue, “What happened?” he said, but his father cried and Myung-soo couldn’t think of anything to do but to hold him.

                “He was so young… just eight years old… You know I could stop blaming myself because of his death. If I didn’t allow him to study to a school where big trucks and cars roam just outside the school, then he could have been…” Seung-woo said, and Myung-soo was starting to understand what happened to his brother.

                “Abeoji,” Myung-soo muttered while tears made its way down his face. He wasn’t prepared for a complicated story to be the history of his family. “Abeoji, my brother,” Myung-soo said, “what is his name?”

                Seung-woo looked at Myung-soo and smiled a little, “Right, the whole time I haven’t said his name.” And when Myung-soo heard his father say his brother’s name, he couldn’t stop himself from disbelieving his very own ears. There is no way this is just a coincidence. No way.