#11

The atmosphere turned cold in an instant. Regardless, Tae-heun was curious about the inside of the abandoned house, so he kicked the rusty, half-tilted gate open with his boot. The yard, which must have once been a garden, was filled with grass taller than a person. Behind the grass stood a traditional hanok house in the shape of a ‘ㄱ’, which was literally on the verge of collapsing.

He walked across the yard, getting closer to the house. The pillars were the only things intact, but everywhere else was rotting and falling apart. The lattice door leading to the porch had all its paper windows torn off, allowing a clear view inside, where weeds were thriving.

When he kicked the kitchen door, it creaked loudly as it opened. The kitchen was filled with grass that reached up to Tae-heun’s thighs, and among the foliage, he could barely make out something resembling a pot lid, which he could only guess was an agungi (traditional Korean stove).

It was undoubtedly the best hiding place. Who would think someone would come to live in a place like this?

Mr. Han didn’t even try to enter. Detective Park stood with his arms crossed, wearing a disgruntled expression as he looked around.

“How long will it take to cut the grass?” Tae-heun asked.

“Oh, it won’t take long. By the next time you come, it will be like a new house,” Mr. Han said, glancing at Detective Park as he spoke emphatically.

As Tae-heun walked back toward the gate after passing through the yard, he stopped. The elevated ground allowed him to see the front yard with its orange roof. Two puppies were joyfully running around.

He hated puppies.

He frowned.

Noticing his gaze, Mr. Han cheerfully explained, “That’s Yoon Ki-beom’s house. It’s where the manager will stay while the house is being repaired. You can see it clearly from here.”

“Shall we drop by the house below? Since we’re here, it would be nice to at least say hello. I heard he should be home by now.”

“Well, why not,” Mr. Han said, leading the way.

The man’s front gate was half-open. For someone who had built such a high wall, the security was surprisingly lax. Mr. Han pushed the gate open without hesitation, but quickly closed it again, overwhelmed by the barking dogs.

“Ah, damn, that startled me. Yoon Ki-beom! Is Yoon Ki-beom home?” Mr. Han’s voice was drowned out by the barking.

No one came out, no matter how loudly Mr. Han shouted.

“Is he not home?” Mr. Han peeked through the gate again, only to close it in surprise.

“Why keep dogs unleashed? What if they bite?”

Mr. Han grumbled as he took out his mobile phone from his back pocket and opened the folder.

“Ah, there’s no signal.”

In response to the awkward situation, Detective Park pulled out his own phone, extending the antenna and moving around to find a signal.

“Is it working?”

“No, not at all.”

Tae-heun also took out the StarTAC he had tucked in his jacket pocket. It was a no-service area.

The three men stood in front of someone else’s house, each holding their phones up, trying to find a signal. Mr. Han, who had heard that Yoon Ki-beom would be home around this time, rambled on without being asked.

A truck appeared around the curve. Before it had even fully stopped, a man jumped out of the back. Following the man’s signals, the truck backed up and then moved forward a few times before turning around and leaving.

The man looked at the unfamiliar men standing in front of his house with an indifferent gaze.

“Who are you?”

A pleasant, deep voice asked.

The man was shirtless, wearing faded red rubber boots and a towel around his neck. He looked much more handsome than in the photo.

“You’ve been working, I see. Mr. Yoon, do you remember me? I’m Han Dong-gyu, the one who runs a real estate business in town. I came with Dae-ho last time; do you remember?”

Mr. Han introduced himself with a friendly face.

“Oh, yes.”

The man replied somewhat disinterestedly as he stepped inside the gate. The puppies greeted him excitedly.

“You must have just come back from work. It’s really hot, isn’t it? I saw the temperature was over 30 degrees. You need to be careful of heatstroke, especially in this weather. Just because you’re young doesn’t mean you’re immune to the heat.”

Mr. Han followed him inside, chattering away with what sounded like either nagging or concern. Detective Park gestured to Tae-heun to go inside.

The yard was quite spacious. The ground was dirt, and every step kicked up a cloud of dust.

Tae-heun looked at the house where he would have to stay for about a month, or possibly three. The tiny house, remodeled from a hanok, looked old and shabby. To the right was a makeshift building that looked like a storage shed, and to the left was a chicken coop, which was eerily quiet, suggesting there were no chickens being raised.

The two dogs wandering around the yard were clearly mutts. One was a small dog that didn’t even reach Tae-heun’s knee, while the other was a large dog, about the size of a small child. The small dog, possibly a mixed breed, had shaggy, dark fur and short legs. The large dog was a typical mixed breed Jindo.

The man immediately tied the dogs up.

At least he’s responsible, Tae-heun thought to himself.

The man walked to the faucet made of cement in front of the shed and washed his hands and face. Then he grabbed the faucet and drank water, splashing it everywhere and wetting the dry ground. After finishing, he turned off the faucet tightly and wiped his face with the towel around his neck. Despite having three guests, he sat down on the porch with an indifferent expression, showing no sign of sociability.

His sun-kissed, glistening body looked good. Not only his body, but he was definitely too good-looking to be rotting away in such a rural area.

Mr. Han casually sat down next to the man and fanned himself.

“Where’s your daughter? It’s past the time she should be back from school.”

The man looked at Mr. Han with a face that seemed to ask how he knew that.

“Is there only one elementary school in town? My granddaughter goes to the same elementary school as your daughter. What was her name again? Ji-hye, right?”

The man, who had been silent like a mute with honey in his mouth, finally spoke.

“I’m not the president.”

Tae-heun chuckled softly.

The sound was loud enough for the man to slowly turn his head and look at Tae-heun. Although they had been together all this time, it was as if he was seeing him for the first time; the man’s eyes widened and then returned to normal. His expression was calm, but the top of his ears turned red, suggesting he was shy.

“Hello. I’m Kim Tae-heun, here on the introduction of Detective Oh Dae-Ho. Nice to meet you.”

Tae-heun stepped forward and extended his hand. The man leaned back slightly, looking up at Tae-heun. He blinked his large, double-lidded eyes and eventually said, “I didn’t hear that you were coming today,” trailing off at the end.

“I just stopped by while checking out the house upstairs.”

“Oh, yes.”

During that brief response, the man’s neck turned red, as if he were embarrassed. Due to his dark skin, it was hard to notice unless you looked closely.

The man merely stared at Tae-heun’s hand, showing no intention of shaking it. Feeling awkward, Detective Park intervened. Tae-heun naturally withdrew his hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Park Dong-Hee. You can call me Team Leader Park.”

The man seemed uncomfortable and awkward surrounded by strangers, repeatedly leaning back.

At this rate, he might just lie down on the porch.

Tae-heun clicked his tongue inwardly.

Sweat trickled down the man’s neck and fell between his chest. He casually grabbed the towel around his neck and, without caring who saw, wiped his sweat all the way down to his armpits.

An awkward silence followed. Unable to stand it any longer, Mr. Han stood up from the porch.

“Since we’ve seen enough, shall we head back?”

He asked cheerfully, looking back at Tae-heun and Detective Park.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Detective Park replied reluctantly, glancing at Tae-heun. Tae-heun nodded quietly.

“Then I’ll see you next time.”

Tae-heun said, looking directly at the man.

“Yes.”

The man answered vaguely without really looking and took off his red rubber boots.

“Right. It’s hot, so hurry inside and rest.”

Mr. Han said, but the man didn’t respond and stepped up onto the porch. The cuffs of his jeans were tucked in, and his lumpy socks had holes in them.

He swayed unsteadily as he pushed the opaque sliding door, which was smaller than him, and went inside.

Tae-heun, who hadn’t realized the man was limping, was taken aback. His gaze unintentionally fell on the red rubber boots left under the porch. The height of the heels was subtly different, but the difference was not significant enough for an observant person to notice.

Are they special shoes?

That was the first thought that crossed his mind, followed by wondering if he had polio, and finally concluding that he must have been injured to be like that, given his height.

Tae-heun alternated his gaze between the closed sliding door and the red rubber boots.

“With someone so blunt, well,” Mr. Han clicked his tongue as he left through the gate.

Detective Park followed behind, looking displeased, his brow furrowed.

“Today’s luck is really terrible, isn’t it?” Mr. Han lamented, even though he wasn’t the one working.

“When will you come to see the house again? I’ll pull out all the weeds by tomorrow, so you can come by tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Mr. Han asked loudly as he opened the car door.

Tae-heun looked back at Detective Park.

“A week from now. I’ll come alone. The manager is busy.”

Detective Park replied nonchalantly.

That meant Tae-heun would have to be trapped in that room again without any promise of when he could leave. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn.