Come Back Home
Mom drove me to the airport, our windows all rolled down. Right now, in Busan it is 24oC, the sky is blue without a single cloud. I'm wearing my favorite shirt – sleeveless and laced; I wear it to say goodbye to this place. My best item right now is a paca, a leather jacket with a hood.
In a district in South Jeolla province– there is a small district called Boseong, which seems to be covered with clouds all the time. It rains more in this district than in any other part of Korea. From that strange town with gloomy clouds everywhere, my mother had gone with me, then a few months old. In the same district, every summer I was forced to visit and stay for a whole month; It continued until I was fourteen years old. That was the last year I set foot in Boseong. In the past three summers, every summer, my father and I, Mr. Bang Si Hyuk, have been on vacation in Jeju for two weeks.
It was Boseong, and now I have to damn myself – an act that I have to perform out of frustration. I hate Boseong so much.
I love Busan so much. I love the sun and its burning heat. I love this vibrant, ever-expanding city.
"Amy," Mom said to me for the last time after a thousand repetitions before I boarded the plane, "There's no need for you to do that.
Mom looked like me, except for her short hair and deep wrinkles when she smiled. I realized the pain mixed with panic as I looked deeply into my mother's large, innocent, childlike eyes. How could I leave my impulsive, erratic mother - but I love him so much - to go now? Of course, she was taken care of by her uncle Dan Tae, the bills were paid in full, the refrigerator was always full of food, her car was always filled with gas, and there was a regular person. Calling to visit every time I feel down, but why...
"I want to go," I lied. I've always been a terrible liar, but lately this lie has been uttered so often that my mother has become almost certain that it is true.
- Send my regards to your father.
- Yes.
"I'll see you soon," Mother insisted
"You can come home whenever you want. I will also come home whenever you need me.
Behind that promise is a sacrifice, I can easily see that through my mother's eyes.
"Don't worry about me," I replied firmly, "Everything will be fine. I love you so much, mom.
Mom held me in her arms for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she left.
The flight from Busan to Jeolla Nam took 2 hours, and then another hour to drive down to Boseong district. Flying like that, to me, is nothing, but an hour of driving with my father makes my heart flutter.
My dad is a pretty easy guy. He seemed genuinely delighted when I visited him for the first time, he enrolled me in a high school and promised to help me find a car.
In my heart, I knew for sure that Dad was embarrassed. Both my father and I don't like many words, but to be honest, I don't know if we are the type to be indifferent to everything around us. I understand Dad was confused by my decision – just like my mother was at the time, because I have never concealed my distaste for the Boseong district.
When my plane landed at Muan International Airport, it was raining. I don't think it's an omen, but just a "normal thing in the district". Anyway, I've already said goodbye to my sun.
Dad was waiting for me next to the patrol car. That's what I'm expecting too. My father is the Bang police chief, assigned to work in Boseong district. And the number one reason why I bought a car, even though I was suffering from severe cystitis, was to not be "carried" around town in a car with dual blue lights, red on the hood. Nothing can slow cars down other than the police.
After I got off the plane, my steps were a little wobbly, and Dad quickly reached out an arm to give me a hug – a clumsy and clumsy hug.
"Amy, it's nice to meet you," he said, smiling slightly when he caught me. "You haven't changed much. How's your mother?
- Mom is fine, I'm happy to see you too
I only brought a few bags. Most of the clothes I have stuffed in there. Mom and I have been scrambling to add to my winter wardrobe, and now, it just isn't enough. Currently, all my clothes and items are lying in the trunk of the car.
"I've found a good car for you, and it's cheap," Dad announced as we buckled our seat belts.
- What kind of car is it, Dad? – I suddenly doubted my father's way of saying: "a good car for you" rather than "a good car for you".
- Well, yeah, it's actually a truck, a Chevy.
- Where did you find it?
- Do you remember Mr. Jeon Jung Son from Yulpo? – Yolpo is a small land, dedicated to ethnic people at the beach.
- No.
"He used to go fishing with us all that summer," Dad reminded me.
So I know why I don't remember him. What, silly, sad things that I often forget.
- He's in a wheelchair now - Seeing that I didn't say anything, Dad continued to talk - so he couldn't drive anymore, and he offered to buy the truck for a cheap price.
- What year was it manufactured? – After asking, I immediately noticed a change in the way I answered the question that my father did not expect me to utter.
- Well, yeah, three mechanical things, Mr. Jeon is very good at repairing, the car was only a few years ago, son, really.
I hope he doesn't think about me knowing that I won't give up so easily.
- When did he buy the car, Dad?
- I think he bought the car in 1984.
- Did he buy a new one?
- Oh, no. I think it was only in the early 1960s, but at the very least it was in the late 1950s, son - I shyly confessed.
- So that's it... Dad, I really don't know anything about cars. If it breaks anything, I will come to bear it, and I can't afford to pay the repairman.
- Seriously, Amy, this thing works great. People don't make this kind of thing anymore.
This thing, I thought to myself, nothing could have happened, at the very least it would have been ridiculed.
- So how cheap is cheap, Dad? – Finally, this is an issue I cannot ignore.
"Ah, uh, daughter, I bought it for you, as a welcome home gift." As he said, his father glanced at me, glancing at me, hoping.
Wow, no money.
- You don't have to do that, Dad. I will buy my own car.
- It's nothing, son. I want you to be happy here – As he spoke, he looked straight ahead at the road ahead. I never felt comfortable having to express my feelings. And I inherited that from my dad. I also looked straight ahead and answered.
- That's great, Dad. I thank you father. I'm so touched – Of course I can't say more that I'm feeling happy in this Boseong district. Dad doesn't have to suffer like me. And I also try not to show any emotion about the car, or the free engine.
"Um, now... take it easy," Dad mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.
Father and son talked a little more about the wet weather, and it seemed that we could only talk about that. Then we both looked out the window in silence.
So beautiful, so beautiful, I can't deny it. Everything around was green: trees with moss-covered trunks, their branches forming dense foliage, the ground overgrown with ferns. Even the air sparkled with the green of the leaves.
All are imbued with a blue color – an alien planet.
We finally got there. My father Bang still lives in the small two-bedroom house that his mother and father bought together in the early days of marriage. Those are the days filled with new things in the couple's life. And there, parked by the side of the road, right in front of the house that never changed, was the—oh my goodness, my new truck. It was dull red with big round fenders and a bulbous, bulbous cabin. The more I look at it, the more I am surprised, I really like this car. I don't know if it works or not, but I'm picturing myself sitting in it. What's more, it's one of those sturdy cars that never suffers harm – the kind you see in accidents: the paint hasn't peeled off a piece, instead, around sticky patches of paint from the car that was hit.
- Well, Dad, I love it! Thank you dad! - Now the terrible tomorrow will not be so scary. I wouldn't have to choose between walking two miles to school in the rain or riding in the sheriff's car.
"I'm glad you like it," Dad replied shyly to my thanks.
I only had to go once and I was able to bring all my luggage upstairs. I moved into the west bedroom, which overlooked the front yard. What, I'm already familiar with this room; nothing, when I was born, it belonged to me. The wooden floors, the blue walls, the spiky ceiling, the yellow-tinted window-curtains – part of my childhood. The changes are that Dad has replaced the baby's crib with a real bed, and added a study desk, because I am an adult. On the desk is now an old computer, with it attached a telephone cord hanging on the floor, one end used to connect the inverter and the other end is attached to the nearest phone slot. This is my mother's request, so that we can easily communicate with each other. My childhood rocking chair was still lying in the corner of the room.
There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, and I had to share it with my dad. I try not to think too much about it.
One of the best things about Bang's dad is that he doesn't like hanging around with me. Dad left me alone to unpack and rest, which was unthinkable for my mother. It's nice to be alone, there's no need to smile and pretend to be happy; I was allowed to look out the window to watch the rain and cry a little. I don't really want to cry right now. I will wait until I go to bed, then I will have to think about the next morning.
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