ii. thin films

As a child she had a strange fascination with trains. She likes the big rumbling machines, the smell of dust that clings onto the seats, the overhead compartments that are four metal bars apart. She likes the how the smell of rain washes everything in the train with an earthly yellow glow. She remembers her mother holding her hand as she kept the tickets safely for the conductor and little TaeYeon stuck her face against the window, kneeing the seat.

She remembers half the commuters falling asleep with briefcases wedged in between their feet. Little TaeYeon loved the train. Her mother's laps became her pillow and she fell asleep to the rumbling of the train like a long, throttling melody that stretched from compartment to compartment, station to station. And when it rained, the world outside looked like a different one. Blurred blots of green and grey. The world seemed so small.

The light shifts. An automated voice drones above. The train emerges from the tunnel and light filters in through the windows. TaeYeon's finger curls upon the table. The stranger across her leaves with his book; A Clockwork Orange. His shadow is so tall and skinny, TaeYeon observes. He looks like a smart man, wearing glasses with a suit and a regal red tie. He wears a ring on his fourth finger, a golden gleaming band that catches with the light.

Pages of a book flutters somewhere. TaeYeon looks wonderingly at a cloud. Hmm. It doesn't seem like it will rain anytime soon.

She leans back into her seat and picks on a loose thread on the hem of her skirt. She misses the fresh air that seeped through small gaps in the sliding windows.

"TaeYeon, darling, wake up," her mother cooed into her ear.

They were going to see TaeYeon's father. TaeYeon remembered him faintly as a trace of cologne on his collar and his burly arms around her when he pulled her into a hug. She remembered his army uniform, and the tender look he gave her mother when he saw them at the door.

A small pair of arms hugged his right leg.

"Oh my, look how she's grown," TaeYeon's mother bent down to greet the little girl. "Hello there."

TaeYeon looked down too. The girl was a small thing, frail and thin. Her father picked the girl up and held her in his arms. The girl's pigtails quivered.

"Say hello, YoonA."

YoonA made a timid--or shy--glance towards them. She squeaked out: "Hello."

"This is TaeYeon," her mother presented her forward. She looked expectantly at TaeYeon and TaeYeon saw a firmness in her eyes. "Say hello, TaeYeon."

TaeYeon said hello.

Then the adults were left breathless with nothing to say to each other. The brief introductions died away into awkward gestures made by her father to the living room.

"I'll pour the tea," her father said; TaeYeon remembers.

Another automated voice makes her memory dissipate. Another flurry of commuters rush in the doors. A ruffle of newspapers in the back. TaeYeon's mind revisits another memory again.

The conductor had a daughter. He had a smiling, pink-shoed daughter who could talk like she was screaming and scream like she was talking. She was very pretty, and she was around TaeYeon's age, if not younger.

She wore pink shoes and frilly dresses that didn't match the weather. The conductor doted on his youngest daughter.

They met again in a train to Chungmuro years later. TaeYeon was a young high-school graduate entering college. The door slid open and a girl with a loud smile stood next to her. It was eerily creepy, how the girl kept on smiling at her through her glasses. TaeYeon backed away, though pretending that it was hot and she was uncomfortable.

A hand waved in front of her. "Hi...don't you remember me?"

TaeYeon looked up at her. She slowly shook her head.

"I'm MiYoung, the conductor's daughter? I used to play with you a lot! Wow! You've grown!"

TaeYeon didn't remember. She eased out a small laugh and nodded, just barely. "Yeah, I remember. You've grown a lot too..."

MiYoung looked pleased. Her face lit up brighter than TaeYeon thought it could and it stretched further than any train would have travelled. It ate TaeYeon up. TaeYeon noticed how MiYoung smiled moons at her.

They became friends quickly, though MiYoung insisted that they were already friends in the first place and simply reunited. But they were friends. TaeYeon was a passive person and MiYoung was loud. TaeYeon liked singing and MiYoung did too. TaeYeon liked eating cakes and so did MiYoung. They took late trains to Chungmuro together and nothing seemed to be their world but that.

TaeYeon blinks. The entire scene refocuses. "Is this seat taken?" someone asks her. "No," she says. A young woman sits across her. She has a sharp-angled face and severe eyes. Her bag seems heavy deposited on the seat next to her. The coal in the woman's eyes slowly cools. She looks pretty. TaeYeon looks away.

MiYoung sat on a bicycle, haughtily taunting her to hurry up. A dark cloud loomed and thunder rolled ahead. If they were caught in this storm, they wouldn't know what time they could make it back dry, if they were lucky. A signboard came into view that a train station was nearby. They could take shelter there until the sky cleared up if it rained.

But MiYoung had other plans. People stared, and MiYoung let them stare. All it mattered was that MiYoung danced and sang and tasted rainwater on her tongue. TaeYeon, the passive person, tried to pull the now drenched MiYoung into the shelter, but MiYoung, the loud person, tugged back and TaeYeon stumbled into the rain.

Thunder rolled overhead and the rain kissed their skins. Their ankles are splashed and wet with muddy water. TaeYeon hoped it would rain more often.

"I'm sorry, do you know how to--" the girl elbows the table to ask, pointing here and there on a map with badly articulated Korean. TaeYeon answers, commenting lightly on the accent and the girl blushes. "I'm not from around here," the girl admits, and TaeYeon takes pity because she knows how it feels to be a small child, even when you're sixteen, seventeen, fifty-five, in a big, unfamiliar world.

The severity in her eyes seem to be a tender hopefulness now. She continues to have some small chat with TaeYeon.

"I'm from America, but I came back to visit my mom," the girl says. "She took sick after my last year in college."

The train rumbles over the tracks. The window vibrates. "What's your name? I'm TaeYeon."

"Jessica. But you can call me SooYeon."

TaeYeon smiles. "Nice to meet you, SooYeon."

YoonA liked to about MiYoung. The timid girl who hid behind her father's leg now grew to be taller than TaeYeon, and had an ego that ruffled up like the feathers of a peacock. YoonA had a lot of admirers. She was pretty and still kept to be thin in her school uniform. Life in high school was going well for her. After their father died, YoonA moved in, and peace and serenity stumbled out after her.

When YoonA moved in, the city was loud everywhere. TaeYeon helped YoonA with whatever she could, but YoonA was smart, and she needed little of it. She had a friendly grin and an easygoing attitude.

YoonA had a best friend. Her name was YuRi. She liked to come over and eat rice cakes together. MiYoung came too. It was like one big family and their mother loved them all. YuRi ate dinner in their house frequently, mostly because she had an abusive father who couldn't cook for nuts. TaeYeon and everybody else were all soft and gentle to her, but YoonA treated her roughly, joked with her boisterously and YuRi was thankful for the change. Somewhere, their friendship must have gotten out of hand, because YoonA came back flustered and near tears.

"What's wrong?" TaeYeon side-stepped YoonA barging into their shared room. YoonA's hip hit the metal frame of their bed and their whole bed shook.

YoonA sighed. Her hands were trembling. She turned and thought of something to say, but it must've been wrong, because, like TaeYeon usually did, she went back on her words and kept changing them to sound right. At last, she croaked: "YuRi."

TaeYeon understood and went over to hug YoonA tightly. "It's okay," she spoke into YoonA's hair, "you guys will make up. You always do."

"I don't know, unnie," YoonA's shoulders deflated like a balloon.

The few days after that were quiet. Their mother kept on feeding YoonA because she had no idea what to do about their unusually silent daughter. All of them knew YuRi was dear to YoonA, but nothing had come as destructive as this. MiYoung promised TaeYeon to speak to YuRi, but for all MiYoung knew, YuRi hadn't been attending school.

A letter came for YoonA one morning. yoona, it said, im so very sorry but please understand me. its hard for me too. i still love him yoona. hes still my dad and i still love him. as much as i love you too, you know this is hard for me. please stop being so quiet. its not you. please talk to me.

yuri

The letter looked like it was written in a rush. YuRi climbed through the window later that night and climbed into bed after TaeYeon left, making herself believe that she needed the washroom and didn't need the bed until tomorrow night. She rented her bed to YuRi for the cost of YoonA's happiness.

"--hello?" a hand waves in her face. TaeYeon blinks and notices how the light seems to be different now, faded.

TaeYeon looks at SooYeon's face. The soft light has made her face look gentle and warm. TaeYeon apologises and SooYeon laughs, a lilting, tinkling laugh that shakes her bones deep inside.

"It's okay," SooYeon says with a smile and begins to hum to herself as she watches the scenery outside. "I really like the trains in Korea."

"Really?"

"I don't know. It feels like...home. Like this is the place I'd go to if I ever ran away from home."

TaeYeon agrees, joining SooYeon in looking outside in quiet.

MiYoung had a wide circle of friends. She knew HyoYeon, the powerful, snarky and popular girl. She knew SooYoung, the lengthy yet lanky girl in the cheerleading squad that was infamous for dropping the cheerleading captain during a rehearsal of their choreography because the cheerleading captain was a . She knew JuHyun, the quiet, demure prefect who played the piano for church and was considered by many to be some kind of saint.

TaeYeon just knew Sunny and a bunch of other classmates. Sunny was Sunny because she was sunny. She literally was a smaller, more subtler form of MiYoung. And maybe that was what TaeYeon saw in her too. Sunny was understanding, and she could make you feel like an old friend when you've just met her a few minutes ago. She had a special connection with strangers, and TaeYeon loved taking train rides with her almost as much as she loved taking them with MiYoung.

"I'm done TaeTae!" MiYoung hopped to her, and TaeYeon laughed. MiYoung hooked her arm with TaeYeon, and began walking friskily to the train station under the cover of night.

"How were your club activities?" TaeYeon asked when their brisk-walking slowed down to a casual stroll.

"Hmm?" MiYoung said. "Oh, it's going fine."

TaeYeon caught MiYoung's hand and swung them. "Are you staying over for dinner? Mom made something special today. I think."

MiYoung smiled fondly. The night streets were quiet and almost, in a way, lonely. The moon gleamed above. A breeze played around.

"Really? What's special today?"

"It's my mom and dad's anniversary today. So I think she's gonna make something special."

"Oh," then MiYoung smiled. She leaned closer to TaeYeon and smelled the scent of freshly printed train tickets that clung onto TaeYeon's jacket. "I'd love to."

They walked in silence, then: "TaeYeon, do you think we'd separate one day?"

"Huh? What does that mean? I dunno. Let's hope not. I mean, we've been separated before, haven't we? I think even if we got separated we'd meet again, somehow."

TaeYeon fumbles with the tap-card in her hand. She slides the cold plastic into her back pocket. SooYeon's hand twitches on the table from muscle reflex.

"Hey...do you have a friend who, no matter where you go or what you do, you just bounce back like it's fated or something? You always just come back together. Do you?"

SooYeon looks back at her, not sure how to reply, then just settles on a, "Yeah, I know."

TaeYeon's eyes widen. "You do?"

"Isn't there someone you're always bound to?"

"Yeah."

The train screeches to a halt. The doors hiss open and SooYeon hurries to hastily gather her belongings.

"This is my stop. Gosh, thanks so much. It's been a pleasure knowing you, TaeYeon."

"It's no problem. I hope we meet again someday."

SooYeon pauses to smile, and then she leaves and TaeYeon really wonders if she would ever see SooYeon again. She hopes the best for the girl, and folds her fingers upon the table.

It's her stop soon.

MiYoung graduated and stayed in touched for a while, but then she disappeared and faded like old photographs TaeYeon never knew she had till she found them. TaeYeon continued to take the train, sometimes with Sunny, occasionally with SooYoung and JuHyun, because HyoYeon has moved to the city where she had auditioned to be a dancer, though JuHyun alighted before TaeYeon did and SooYoung was only more interested in talking about her boyfriend to appreciate the train slithering on the tracks. TaeYeon did all she could to be politely accommodating.

It wasn't till Sunny asked about MiYoung when TaeYeon felt lonely. She missed MiYoung. The conductor had stopped working ages ago, and there was no way to contact MiYoung but through letters. Even that had been discontinued when she wasn't even sure if it was the right address.

"Have you heard from MiYoung?"

"No, have you?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Don't sound too disappointed. I'm sure you guys would meet again."

The problem was; TaeYeon met MiYoung about a decade after they last met. TaeYeon would hate to wait for another decade.

But TaeYeon only said: "Yeah."

Much later, TaeYeon managed to get hold of a loose contact from HyoYeon, whom she found out through SooYoung that MiYoung was still in contact with her. MiYoung was living somewhere faraway, near a train station that sat far from Chungmuro, divorced and maybe even as lonely as TaeYeon was.

"Yeah, she's still writing me," calls from the city were very much appreciated. HyoYeon sounded tired and it must have been the training and school they had in the city. "She didn't tell me how she lost your contacts and details. And honestly, I didn't know she did until SooYoung told me that she wasn't writing to you anymore. But hey, the things here in the city are great and I haven't seen you in a long while. Come by some time, Tae. Maybe we can have a drink or something. It's been forever."

The automatic voice dictates the station. The train halts to a stop. The doors slide open. The outside air is salty and permeable. It almost seems to diffuse through the thin film encasing TaeYeon's memories. The station is nearly empty. She takes the far corner next to an ATM machine. She waits.

Some time passes and the pregnant clouds give way to the rain, descending onto Earth like little meteorites. The strong scent of rain becomes pungent. A tune plays to alert passengers that the train is approaching. Heels on the linoleum flooring and the hacking cough of commuters distract her. She thinks about HyoYeon's words. It has been forever.

Footsteps approach her, slowly, then hastily and impatiently. She sees the tip of dirtied sneakers on the floor below her. She hears the choked breaths and the stilled eyes on her.

The voice is thicker with age, solidly matured, and TaeYeon hopes that this is not someone else. She hopes that this is not some new MiYoung. "TaeYeon?"

It thrums within her. This longing from years. It feels like a cancerous growth spreading in her over time. But it has been sedated and contained. MiYoung's hands are dry, both fourth fingers bare. The skin is peeling where her palms meet her fingers.

In a train station, TaeYeon meets MiYoung again.

MiYoung's hand touches TaeYeon's face. TaeYeon doesn't dare to look up, wondering where MiYoung's pink shoes had gone. She misses her terribly. A train arrives, sliding to a stop. Commuters file in and out. MiYoung's thumb swipes the corner of TaeYeon's lip and she wonders how long it's been. Their last letter had been talking about their separate lives and MiYoung's problem with laundry and that they couldn't wait to see each other again. The ATM machine beeps next to her.

"I told you," TaeYeon says, the rain drowning out her voice but MiYoung hears her clearly, "even when one day we separate, we'll always meet again, somehow."

"We're fate's little rebounds, aren't we?" TaeYeon finally looks up, and MiYoung is smiling moons at her. Her moons now have wrinkles. TaeYeon's heart constricts and releases.

MiYoung, the loud person, captures TaeYeon's hands and swings them. TaeYeon, the passive and still very passive person, agrees, "I guess so."

—ジュリエット