Chapter 11

Even though I had just come from Outer Seoul, I made my way back immediately. I joined the press of people who were my usual daily source of amusement in commuting back there from Inner Seoul. Despite being crammed in like anchovies in a can, my mental agitation far outweighed the physical discomfort. I was so lost in my panicked thoughts that I almost missed my stop, and had to frantically fight my way through the crowd to get to the door before the train left the station.

I raced all the way to the hospital my mother had told me to go to and by the time I got there, the woman at the counter had to patiently wait as I caught my breath to speak. “I’m looking for Baek Seung,” I gasped. She typed into her computer portal and directed me to the shared ward he was in.

The moment I entered, my mother rushed at me and squeezed me in a tight hug. She refused to let go, so I had to eventually shake her off. “Ma! Let me see dad,” I pleaded with her. Only then did she release me.

My father had been badly beaten again and his face was a mess of dark, swelling bruises. But what shocked me the most was that both of his legs were done up in casts. Even though my mother had told me what had happened over the phone, it was still a punch to the gut to see it in the flesh. “Jaehyun-a,” my father bleated as I stared at the damage. My mother was white as a sheet and had clearly been crying on and off for a while, but at least it looked as though they had not decided to include her in the punishment this time.

“That bastard Han Jungho,” I said through gritted teeth as I squeezed the bar on the bedframe until my knuckles turned white. I wanted to scream my frustration and helplessness. I breathed in and out to calm myself.

“How much did the hospital say this would cost?” We had been fortunate to never have had to go to the hospital, and I had no perception of how much it would cost. I prayed that my savings could cover it. There was no way we could go into even more debt.

My mother shook her head. She was always scatter-brained in catastrophes, so I wasn’t that surprised that she didn’t know. Maybe they hadn’t even told them yet. I couldn’t stay here and just stare at each other like three rocks. “Let me go ask someone, then.”

I found a reception desk. I greeted the woman sitting there politely (unlike the one at the entrance). “Um, I don’t know if this is the right place to ask, but um… I’m the son of Baek Seung in ward 3C. I see that he’s been taken care of already, but I need to ask about… the cost of it all.” I tried to speak politely, but my sentences broke off awkwardly. I wasn’t really sure how to ask.

“I can ask a doctor to come out and go over the costs with you,” she said pleasantly, ignorant to the turmoil inside me. She dialed a phone and requested a doctor in attendance. “A doctor will be right out soon,” she chirped.

Despite her promise that a doctor would be out soon, I had to wait quite a while before one appeared for me. By that time I had chewed/ripped several nails to the quick. It had never been a habit of mine, but I didn’t know what to do with myself.

If the doctor was surprised by my relatively young age, he didn’t show it. “You wanted to talk about Baek Seung-ssi, right?”

I answered him with frantic nodding.

“Alright. I’ll go over everything. Your father has multiple orthopedic fractures in both legs and an intertrochanteric hip fracture.” Was this guy fresh out of medical school or something? Who was he trying to impress with these incomprehensible terms?! He continued and I struggled to follow. As best as I could understand, my dad had both legs broken in multiple places, and that bastard Han Jungho had even broken his hip. I started to feel dizzy again as the problems seemed to pile up.

“We’ve put him in temporary casts for now, but we’ve scheduled him for surgery tomorrow. After that he’ll probably need to stay at the hospital for six to eight days after.” Surgery. Hospital stay. The hits just kept coming.

“Could you tell me the total cost?” I could hardly choke out the words.

Even the doctor knew he was about to land a sucker punch on me. He gave me a sympathetic look. “Unfortunately, because your father doesn’t have any additional insurance, the estimated cost would be just under six million won.”

I actually breathed out a sigh of relief. Thanks to Taejun’s initial contribution (which he had refused to take back after I started depositing my own money into the account), I had enough and even a little to spare. “Thank god,” I breathed.

The doctor seemed taken aback at my reaction, but then was relieved that I seemed relieved. He gave me a bit more information before he left, such as when they would expect payment and what medications they would probably give him. I nodded absently. The tension in me had dissipated so quickly that I felt woozy, and I could barely make sense of his words.

I floated back happily to my parents. My mother stared up at me with big round eyes, probably questioning my 180 in demeanor. “It’ll be ok,” I said breathlessly. “I have enough savings to cover the cost.”

My mother choked out a sob and reached for my hand. I squeezed it reassuringly. “Jaehyun-a, my good son, my only good son,” my father croaked from his bed. For the first time in a long time, I smiled at him.

My mother interrupted the moment with a scared whisper. “But Jae, what about Han Jungho? We still owe him the deficit on this month’s interest!”

My elation rushed out of me like a gust. In my panic about the hospital bills, I had forgotten what had even gotten my dad into this predicament in the first place. “How much do you owe?”

My dad hesitantly whispered the answer so the other patients in the ward couldn’t hear. With his mouth unrecognizably swollen, I could barely understand him. The pit in my stomach I had carried here returned. I didn’t have enough to cover that too. My mind whirled.

“I’ll ask Mr. Do for an advance on my pay,” I said hesitantly. I’d figure out how to make up the rest. With that, I could physically see the anxiety lift off my mother (my father remained beaten down in the bed).

“Jaehyun-a, you’re so dependable,” my mother said in a low voice. Her eyes were misty again. I hoped she wouldn’t start crying. She’d been progressively more prone to bursting into tears since Taejun left.

I didn’t say anything because I felt guilt creeping up on me. I knew it was mostly my own fault that they had started to fall behind on payments again, because I’d reduced the amount I sent weekly. At least I could remedy it for now.

I stayed with them for some time, chatting. I hadn’t seen either of them since the day I ran out the door and fled to Busan, and even though I called my mother to check in on them regularly, I had hardly spoken about myself. I talked to my mother about how I was getting on by myself and my “roommate”. I felt a weird tug of irony that I was now erasing my brother as he had done to me. But he had wanted me to, so it was different.

I don’t know how many hours had passed. It felt wrong to leave them, even though there wasn’t another bed for my mother and I to spend the night. My cell phone dinged.

[ where are you? ] Taejun asked. In my panicked rush back to Outer Seoul, I had forgotten to tell him what had happened. He must be home from his late night at work.

[ dad’s in the hospital. park jungho broke his legs ]

Taejun was a fast texter, so my text must have shocked him, because it was quite a few minutes before he replied.

[ are you coming home tonight? ]

I thought about it. Even though I was sure a lecture and a possible fight was waiting for me back home, I definitely had to go to work tomorrow, and there wasn’t anywhere to sleep here.

[ yeah ]

[ i’ll head back soon ]

“My roommate,” I said to my mother, who was watching me text. I put my phone away. “I should probably head back home to sleep.”

My mother nodded.

“I’ll visit again tomorrow,” I promised. I bid them farewell and headed back.

On my way home, I readied myself for the fight that was sure to come. I prepared and mentally rehearsed my arguments. Having studied law, Taejun far outpaced me whenever we debated (so I usually just ended up trying to win by shouting over him), but my convictions seemed rock solid this time.

To my surprise when I entered the apartment, Taejun was sitting at the dining table with a morose look on his face. Despite my astonishment, I couldn’t help also feeling a little spark of vindictive satisfaction that he might be regretting forcing me to give them a little less that month.

“How is he?” He sounded defeated. I was astonished that he had asked after our father, who he constantly expressed his disgust for.

“Not great.” I wished I had remembered what words the doctor said so I could repeat them to sound smarter. “He has five breaks between both legs, and one in his hip. Tomorrow he goes in for surgery.”

Taejun sucked in a horrified breath. My sadistic side was definitely gloating over his reactions. He dropped his head behind his hands. “I didn’t realize how bad the situation was,” he said gloomily.

The guilt I had been feeling in the hospital metamorphosed into resentment. It had been Taejun’s fault that I had given them less this month and they had run afoul of their vicious lender.

“I told you.”

A shudder went through him. I was amazed at how regretful he seemed. He had always been so fiercely adamant about cutting them off. It had always seemed like he truly didn’t care about them anymore and they were nothing more than two fleas he kept trying to flick off me.

“Do you know how much it’s going to cost?” he asked shakily.

“About six mil.” I knew he wasn’t going to like what I was going to say next but I went ahead anyway. He didn’t seem like he was in fighting condition. “I have just enough in my savings, so I’ll-”

“I’ll pay it,” he interrupted. I was flabbergasted. Had I been transported into an alternate universe? But I hadn’t been hit by any trucks on the way home. So somewhere deep down in Taejun, he did care about our parents after all.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just reached out to hug him as tight as I could.