Chapter 12:  Teach Me

 

I reach home, and lean against the wall of my house, slumping against it, too weak to go into the house.

I feel sick to the core at the memory of his utter indifference to the havoc that he has caused in the lives of Jang Woo sang and Seung ah.

I don't know who he is.

I don't trust him.

I'm afraid of him.

And, yet, I can't deny my feelings for him.

I'm afraid of myself, of my feelings for him.

At my workplace, I almost collapse when I switch on the computer.

It's the latest development in the murder of the college girl.

A new suspect has been brought in for questioning.

There are pictures of him all over. He's wearing a black cap, pulled low over his eyes, and the rest of his face is covered by a black mask. Only his eyes are exposed.

I know those eyes.

I'd know those eyes anywhere.

They haunt me wherever I am, wherever I go: mocking, hard, cruel, one instant; gentle, warm, tender, the next. 

They stare at me from the silent corners of my darkened room to the lonely alleys, they smile at me in my fevered dreams and laugh at me in my worst nightmares.

They are Moo young's eyes.

Moo young is the new suspect.

So yeon jumps on me from behind, and peers at my screen.

"You should be happy that your boyfriend's working on the case," she teases.

Cho rong?

It's only then that I recognize the man walking behind Moo young.

It's Cho rong; Cho rong was part of the team that arrested him.

I feel a wave of dizziness.

"Aren't you proud of your boyfriend?" So yeon grins, and nudges me. "He's in the top news item."

I dig my finger nails into my palms to stop myself ftom screaming at her.

I get up abruptly and push past her.

My heart is pounding.

I my dry lips.

I've to find out whether it's true.

I've to find out whether he killed that girl.

It's not true.

I don't believe it.

I refuse to believe it.

I refuse to believe that he murdered that girl in cold blood.

I need to make a call.

That's it.

I'll make a call.

I need to know.

I need to know if he killed that girl.

I call Tak So jung on the phone. She's been friends with Jin kook for years, even before I was born. She works at the police station in a different department, but they're very close.

"Eunnie," I say. "It's me, Jin kang."

"Jin kang?" she sounds surprised. "Are you okay? You don't sound well."

"Eunnie," I say, haltingly. "I - I need to know if they - if they have Kim Moo young at the police station."

There's a silence on the other end.

"Yes, he's here," she says, after a while.

"Did he - did he say that he - that he killed her?" I'm gripping the phone so hard that my fingers hurt.

"Yes, he says that he did," she lowers her voice, "but it seems that he lied. You'll see it on the news soon. Kim Moo young didn't kill her."

My knees give way, and I sink to the ground.

"Thanks, eunnie," I say.

I'm sobbing with relief.

The next day, our design team arrive at the Arts Brewery, just as Woo sang's sister, Jang Se ran, emerges from the building with the secretary.

"That's Jang Se ran, Jang Woo sang's sister. After she got divorced, she got into a bitter fight with her brother over the management rights to NJ Group," So yeon whispers. "Woo sang's gone, and she's taking over everything."

Ms. Hwang, So yeon and I are having dinner together.

"There's a rumour going around that the Arts Brewery is planning to open a new pub," Ms. Hwang says, smiling happily. "We can get the new deal for the new pub, I'm sure of it."

"We can do it!" So yeon and I yell in unison.

We raise our glasses and toast each other jubilantly.

I gulp the contents of my glass down.

"You've been so glum lately," Ms. Hwang says, looking at me sympathetically. "It's boyfriend trouble, right? It always is."

She sighs mournfully.

"When my boyfriend gives me trouble, I drink soju, too," So yeon laughs.

"Let me offer you girls some advice," Ms. Hwang says. "Marry a safe man."

"What's a safe man?" I ask.

"Safe men give you cash, they may not be that great-looking and may be insensitive to your feelings," Ms. Hwang says wisely.

"I get it, they're ugly and stupid," So yeon giggles.

"Handsome guys know that they're handsome. But they're handsome and complicated," Ms. Hwang says. "I should know, because I've got a guy like that at home."

We laugh our heads off.

"If you ever meet a guy like that, run away," Ms. Hwang says seriously.

We all laugh again. I laugh louder than both of them.

"You got married though," So yeon says. 

"That's the reason why I'm giving you this advice, based on my own personal experience," Ms. Hwang says earnestly and leans forward. "With that type of man, you can go too far in the wrong direction, and you can't turn back. It's best to run away before it's too late. Run away, don't look back, and survive, okay?"

"I'm good at running," I grin. "Let's drink!"

We cheer.

I'm dead drunk as I come into the house. 

I try to hug Jin kook and almost fall. He helps me to my bed and I flop onto it.

"Remember how I was always number 1 in running in primary school, oppa?" I say, smiling drunkenly at him. "I won every race that I was in."

"Are you still bragging about that?" he asks. 

"Good night," he says, and closes the door.

Alone in the room, I cover my eyes with my hands and the hot tears stream down between my fingers.

I don't have to pretend anymore. 

I curl myself into a ball, and turn to the side, stuffing the pillow into my mouth to stifle my sobs.

Early the next morning, I leave quietly. I get on my bike and ride out. 

What had Ms. Hwang said?

"If you meet a guy like that, run away."

"Run away, don't look back, and survive."

In the street, I'm still riding my bike, but I stop when I see a cat at a corner.

It reminds me of Moo young's cat.

The images flood in.

He's looking at me, and his eyes are questioning, confused.

"Do you really think that I don't have a heart?"

He's scorching me, burning me up with his eyes, with the fire in his eyes.

"Don't just leave like this, have some cake before you go."

He's kissing me on the rooftop.

He's kissing me, and I feel the warmth of his lips on mine, the honeyed sweetness of spring, and the smouldering heat of summer.

I stop my bicycle.

I look up.

I'm right in front of the police station.

I look at it for a long moment.

I turn my bike around.

Cho rong's right behind me.

We greet each other.

I paste a huge smile on my face.

"I just went to the sauna. Did you come here to see Jin kook?" he asks, smiling happily.

"No, it's just a Saturday ride," I say casually.

We fall silent.

It's awkward.

It's weird because I've never felt awkward with Cho rong before, nor he with me.

But here we are, standing awkwardly, me smiling brightly, him looking at me with that funny, anxious expression in his eyes, and both of us not saying a word.

"How was your dinner that day? I'm sorry for not eating with you," he breaks the silence with a rush of words.

I'm so relieved that I've something to say, finally, and answer helpfully, "I knew that you were busy. I saw it on the news."

"We should eat later after I finish up everything," he says, and he's looking awkward again.

I smile and nod, and walk past him.

But then I turn, park my bike, and run back up to him. 

"We should do a fun thing from your list of 100 Things To Do," I say enthusiastically.

He smiles widely, and his eyes light up.

Poor Cho rong. It takes so little to make him happy.

"We should visit the ocean then," he says happily.

"Great," I say, and walk away.

The smile fades on my face.

I grab my bike and walk it away.

I walk my bike up my street, and stop.

He's standing in front of my house, at the bottom of the steps leading to my gate.

"Why are you here?" I ask.

My voice is flat and hard.

"I'm looking for my lost cat. It's been two days," he says, and smiles. 

"Why are you looking for your lost cat here? Look for it on the playground. There are lots of lost cats there," I say curtly.

I wheel my bike past him.

"I was arrested by the police. I was released but I'm going to be called up again for further investigation," he says calmly, as if he's reporting to me on the daily news update. "I might have to go to trial."

And then, he adds, very quickly, "I didn't kill her." 

He looks as if it matters to him, that he needs to tell me this: that he didn't kill her.

"I know, I saw the news," I say. 

"Are you afraid of me?" he asks, his eyes searching.

"Yes," I say, but I look away, and I don't meet his eyes.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asks again, and this time, there is an urgency to his voice.

He really wants to know.

I look at him, and my eyes are dead; I know that they are, because that's how I feel: dead, distant, faraway, incapable of feeling, incapable of being hurt.

"Yes, I'm afraid of you," I say, through stiff, frozen lips.

"Because I was arrested?"

"Because I don't know you."

"You can ask me anything if you're curious," he says, almost pleadingly, and his eyes are desperate.

"I don't want to know," I say, dully, numbly, and I push my bike up the steps, pausing midway to stare at the wall.  

"I don't trust you," I say, flatly, woodenly.

I open my gate, walk in, and close it, shutting him out.

I lean against the gate, and fight for calm.

The next day, I'm spring-cleaning my home when I receive a call.

It's Yoo ri, calling from the police station.

She wants to see me.

I sit opposite her at the police station. 

She looks tired.

"Ajusshi told me that people can start over at any time," she says. "I want to apologize to you before I go to jail. It's about hitting you with the car." 

"It's okay. You didn't do it on purpose," I say.

"I did it in purpose," she says. "I was high, but I still did it on purpose because I was jealous of you."

She tells me that she heard everything that we talked about the day that I was with Moo young at the noodles shop. She tells me that she was sitting behind us, and that she was there throughout our conversation.

He had told me that he was an orphan.

He didn't have a father.

He didn't have a mother either.

He had been raised in an orphanage.

"I never heard all of those things before. Oppa never told me all those things that he told you," she says, smiling wistfully. "He never said any of those things to me."

I go back to work at the office, and Ms. Hwang and So yeon are all excited.

"Kim Moo young is taking over the new pub. It was a rumour but now it looks like a fact," Ms. Hwang says excitedly. "We overheard her talking to the CEO of the Arts Brewery about the new pub. She mentioned that Kim Moo young would be managing it. Isn't that great news?"

I can't breathe.

"It's great," I say, my voice hollow. "It's fantastic."

"Hey, why are you looking so glum? This is great news. You're good friends with him, aren't you? You live in the same neighbourhood," Ms. Hwang exclaims. "This is a great opportunity for us to secure more of NJ Group's projects."

A little while later, I jolt awake from my desk; Ms. Hwang's nudging me on the shoulder.

I hadn't realized that I had fallen asleep.

She pulls a piece of white paper from under my arm, and narrows her eyes at me.

She pushes the paper under my nose. On it is a sketch of a cat.

"Is this why you're so busy? Sketching a cat? Do you keep a cat?" she asks.

"No, I don't, I just drew it," I say weakly.

Cho rong and I are going to the ocean. We buy some food at the local grocer and are coming out when Moo young passes by.

I freeze.

He doesn't even glance at me.

He stalks past me and heads to a black car parked along the kerb. The secretary is standing there, waiting for him, and opens the door.

Moo young gets in, and the car drives off.

I know that car.

I've seen it several times these past few days at the Arts Brewery.

That black car is Jang Se ran's car.

I get into Cho rong's car. 

We're going to the ocean.

Don't think about anything else.

We're going to the ocean.

We're going to have a fantastic time.

But the treacherous thoughts intrude all too soon.

What did she want to talk to him about?

I remember the secretary's eyes, cold and dead, that little flicker in them when I asked him where Moo young was.

"What would you like to eat? Sushi?" 

Cho rong's voice comes to me from far away.

I nod.

Cho tong pulls over at a rest stop.

"I'll go and buy some hot snacks," he says.

He come back in a short while, and pauses when he's about to pass a hot snack to me.

I'm holding an ice-cream in my hand. I follow his eyes to my hand; the ice-cream's all melted, running down my fingers.

I hadn't even realized that it was melting.

I remember, as if through a thick fog, that I bought an ice-cream only for myself.

I should have bought another for him.

I had forgotten about him.

We get into the car.

Cho rong starts the car, then turns abruptly to me.

"Do you want to see the ocean another time?" he asks.

He drives me back to my place.

"I'll call you," he says. 

"I'm sorry," I say.

He flinches, as if I've slapped him.

"I didn't want to hear you say that," he says. His eyes are so sad that I can't bear to look at him.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "I treated you so badly. I'm sorry." 

He looks at me earnestly.

"You don't have to date me, Jin kang. But you shouldn't date that guy," he says. "You said that you don't have a brain. If others cry, you cry and if they smile, you smile."

"Someone like you shouldn't be with a person like that. Someone like you should never ever be with someone like that."

He looks so worried, and so crestfallen, that my eyes fill with tears.

I hurt a good man today. I led him on, and then I let him down.

I'm so sorry, Cho rong.

I never, ever meant to hurt you.

Please forgive me.

I tried, I really tried.

But it's no use.

I can't let him go.

I go into my house and I register, vaguely, that Jin kook's at home, because I see his shoes. I go into my room and see him rummaging through my trash can.

"Why are you searching my trash?" I ask him.

He shows me the crumpled sketch from this morning, that I had chucked into my trash can.

He jabs at it angrily.

"Why are you drawing his face?" he says, his lips tight.

Next to the sketch of the cat, I'd drawn his face. I see his eyes, that I'd highlighted in black lines and shades, and a tiny little speck of white in the middle. All around him, I'd sketched in dark , so that he appears to be drowning in a sea of blackness, but a little patch on his chest is pristine-white, untouched by the surrounding blackness, and it looks like a half of a heart, with the other half submerged in shadow.

"Why are you looking so wooden, so empty?" Jin kook yells.

He pulls out a docoment from his shirt pocket, and s it at me.

It's Moo young's phone record. It's got all the calls that he made. My number tops the list.

"Cho rong took care of this. If he hadn't, you'd have been called in to testify as a witness in a murder case."

"So what? I can tell them what I know."

"This is a murder case. You don't know what's going on."

"He didn't do it," I say.

"You wouldn't even know about this without him," he says angrily. "It's a different world, it's a sordid, dirty, ugly world. You shouldn't ever have to be a part of that world."

"You're the one who says that anyone can start over. Why can't he? You said it to Yoo ri," I cry in agony.

"He can't. He's not human. When humans do something wrong, they feel sorry sbout it. They feel pain when they get hit. That's being human."

"He gets hurt as well if he gets hit," I cry.

"He enjoys it! He'll just pay it back many, many times over!"

He grips my arms tightly.

"He's evil," he grits.

"Oppa!" I cry in anguish.

"Jin kang, remember what happened to Seung ah," he cries.

"Don't talk like that, oppa," I say in shock.

I pull away from him.

I'm waiting for him at the rooftop.

I see the black car pull up.

He gets out of the car.

He walks, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched up against the cold brittle wind.

He looks up, as if he senses my presence.

He stops, and stares at me across the distance.

He walks toward me.

He stops in front of me.

"You're a bad guy, right? Everyone says that you're a bad guy. Everyone can change, but you can't. They say that if I'm with you, something bad will happen to me. But why...why do I... ," I choke on a sob.

"Are you really what they say you are? I don't want you to be bad. I'm so afraid because you seem to keep going astray." 

I fight back my tears.

"Are you going to take that job?" I ask, my voice shaking.

"If you say no, then I won't," he says, looking into my eyes steadily.

"Don't do it," I beg him, uncaring of what he thinks of me, uncaring of what the whole world thinks of me, unleashing the pent-up worry and love and sadness in my heart. "Promise me that you'll become a good person."

We're standing very close, and he takes a step forward, and looks down at me, but he makes no attempt to touch me, or to reach out to me.

His hands clench and unclench at the sides, and he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out; again he struggles to say something, his eyes lost, and uncertain, and vulnerable, like a child's, helpless, looking for guidance.

Finally, the words come out: low, quiet; an ashy, powdery whisper upon the wind.

"Teach me." 

His words bring tears to my eyes, and linger in the stillness and the silence long after he has spoken, crumbling to dust the heavy load of stone in my heart, filling it with gladness, with lightness, with air, so that I can finally breathe again.

And as I stand there, tears streaming down my face, I feel the shift, the change, the lift of the shadows. Yesterday, and the past melt away, and beneath me and beyond me, the lights beckon, and above me, the stars blink and flicker; shining, shimmering in the darkness, guiding the weary traveller, lighting up his path on his long, and arduous journey back home. 

"Teach me."

I will teach you.

I will help you.

If you stumble, I will catch you.

If you fall, I will save you.

I will be the light that soothes your darkness.

I will never leave you.