#62

Today was the peach orchard. As soon as the melons were done, it was time for peaches. Following the man, one could tell the seasons changed with the seasonal fruits. For Tae-heun, who only knew fruits served as snacks in room salons, this was a significant development.

The two of them put on yellow raincoats and walked to the orchard.

“Do you like peaches, Ki-beom?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any allergies?”

“I get a little itchy from the fuzz, but if I wash them well and peel them, it’s fine.”

“From now on, I’ll do it for you. I don’t have any allergies.”

Tae-heun assured him. For the man, she was willing to do anything, even if it meant dealing with allergies. The man smiled.

The orchard was quite large. This vast orchard was managed by a couple in their fifties. Of course, they often called the man to do various tasks.

Peach trees were sensitive to moisture. If submerged for more than three days, the leaves would fall early, and the roots would rot. If submerged for more than six days, the tree would die completely. Therefore, the man explained that special care had to be taken for drainage. He added that the weeds growing under the trees were intentionally planted to reduce moisture changes in the soil.

The man sparkled when he talked about crops. His voice and gaze became infinitely gentle. He treated even someone else’s peaches or melons with the same warmth as if they were his own children.

“I should have been born a peach tree. Or maybe rice.”

Tae-heun muttered.

The sound of rain falling in the orchard was quite different from the sound of rain falling on fields. It felt more robust. Even with the raincoats on, the already substantial raindrops made frequent plopping sounds and occasionally thudded down. There was no separate music.

“Do you want to have kalguksu for lunch? Is there a place nearby?”

The man asked while rummaging through the grass on the ground.

“There’s one on the way to town. It’s not far, so we can go eat after we finish work.”

The man replied.

“Are your feet okay?”

The man asked as he tidied up the grass that Tae-heun had carelessly disturbed.

“Yes. No problem.”

“Did water get in?”

“Of course not.”

It was a lie. Even though there was no gap between the boots and pants, somehow the rainwater had seeped in, making the socks damp. The wounded soles of his feet also stung terribly. But since he was a pervert, he felt more excited than pained.

Above all, every time his soles burned, memories of the dawn came to mind. Instead of feeling sad or embarrassed, he felt thrilled. Even if it was a lie he told himself for comfort, the man had said he liked him too.

“I like you too, Tae-heun. Not in that way, though.”

It was in the bedroom, with a low and calm voice, and he didn’t blush, but he said it nonetheless. Earlier, he thought it was just empty words to soothe himself, but now his feelings had changed.

The man was not someone who would just say anything. So it must be sincere. The fact that he didn’t blush meant he wasn’t yet inclined that way.

“Do I have a chance with you?”

He suddenly threw out the question.

Perhaps he didn’t hear it, as there was no response from the man. The man was turned away, inspecting the peach trees.

“Ki-beom! Do I have a chance with you?”

When he shouted again, the man finally turned to look.

“There is a chance. Because you like me too, Ki-beom.”

He said seriously, looking into the man’s eyes.

“There is a chance, right?”

“…Yes.”

Though a bit late, the man affirmed it. He quickly turned his head away, so Tae-heun couldn’t see his expression, but what did it matter? There was a chance.

His heart raced wildly. The heart that had been shattered from heartbreak was revived. A tune escaped his lips. It happened to be “Baby on the Island,” but with this feeling, he felt he could dance with a ghost.

“Ki-beom, let’s go together. Why go alone?”

He quickened his pace to catch up with the man, his smile unwavering.

Walking through the peach orchard in matching raincoats and boots while getting drenched in the rain was romantic.

The man, soaked in rain, was particularly attractive, and every time raindrops clung to his long eyelashes, Tae-heun reached out to wipe them away. At first, the man avoided it a couple of times, but later he stopped avoiding it and let Tae-heun do it. It wasn’t a resigned gesture like handing over his genitals to Kwon Yong-jun or surrendering his body to Tae-heun at dawn; he willingly allowed Tae-heun’s hand, fully aware of it. That made him indescribably happy.

Had there ever been a day in his life that made his heart flutter and race like this? He pondered. He shook his head. Tae-heun, no, Lee Seon-jae had never experienced such a thing. Except for the day he became the adopted son of his aunt before she passed away, he had always been unhappy. He lived without even realizing he was unhappy. Lee Seon-jae was unhappy and lonely. It was only after becoming Kim Tae-heun that he painfully realized this. Only after borrowing someone else’s name did he finally come to know himself properly.

I want to live. I want to live beyond the deadline that Officer Oh mentioned.

Tae-heun thought as he watched the falling raindrops.

* * *

“Oh, old man. Why are you giving the kid makgeolli?”

The man said disapprovingly to Mr. Hwang, the old man.

“What’s wrong with that? She drinks it well. Ji-hye, isn’t it tasty?”

“Yes. Grandpa!”

The child replied cheerfully. The child was already on her second glass of sweetened makgeolli.

“Hey, Yoon Ji-hye. Stop drinking. That’s not a soft drink; it’s alcohol. Can’t you see your father is worried?”

Unable to bear it any longer, Tae-heun snatched the glass from the child. As a result, makgeolli spilled onto both of their hands.

“Tsk. Dad and Uncle are drinking too.”

The child complained, shaking her hands.

“When you grow up, you can drink as much as you want. Until then, you can’t. Your father could get in trouble.”

While Tae-heun and the child bickered, the man wiped the child’s hands and handed a towel to Tae-heun.

In the evening, the members of the women’s association gathered at the village hall to serve pajeon and makgeolli. Rather than a special event, they arranged these meals once or twice a month, and since it was raining and the menu suited the weather, all the villagers gathered.

It was rare for someone to come empty-handed. They brought rice, whether cold or hot, and some even brought homemade fruit wine or liquor. More than ten gas burners and frying pans were gathered, making it sufficient for dozens of people to fry and eat pajeon.

In the spacious gathering room, people sat closely together, frying pajeon, eating rice, and drinking. Not only the children but also other kids their age were getting sweetened makgeolli from the adults. There were no parents as anxious as the man. Everyone just laughed, saying the kid drank well.

It seemed like all the residents of Dongjam-ri were gathered, but the youth leader and Kwon Yong-jun were nowhere to be seen. The two probably didn’t want to be involved in listening to the old folks’ tales or complaints while pouring drinks.

“But did you know each other from the beginning? How come you’re so close? If someone didn’t know, they’d think you were brothers.”

Mr. Hwang said in a hoarse voice. The child beamed, and the man’s face turned red.

“Sir, please accept a drink from me.”

Tae-heun quickly poured makgeolli into Mr. Hwang’s empty glass.

“We’re complete strangers. But from the first day I met Ki-beom, we just clicked so well that I wondered if we were a couple in our past lives.”

Tae-heun’s boldness made Mr. Hwang and the surrounding old men burst into hearty laughter. “Yes, yes, there are people like that. It’s a match made in heaven,” they chimed in. The man turned as red as a hot sweet potato, and the child, drunk on makgeolli, clapped her hands in delight.

“But it’s a shame to rot away here with such looks.”

Someone said, looking at Tae-heun.

“What about Ji-hye’s dad? He wouldn’t be out of place anywhere.”

Another added.

“Oh, don’t say such things. How precious is a young man? What if he gets a crush for no reason?”

An old woman sitting nearby scolded, saying they were talking nonsense.

“Who knows? If it gets on the broadcast, girls wanting to move to this village will line up.”

“That’s true. Let’s sacrifice a couple of people to get all the old bachelors in our village married.”

“They say if it gets on the broadcast, land prices go up too; it’s good for everyone.”

Jokes and serious comments mixed and echoed around.

“Broadcast? Why are you all like this? If you’re going to talk nonsense, I’ll get up right now. I have plenty of places to go, even if there’s nowhere to be invited.”

When Tae-heun interjected, everyone laughed, thinking it was a joke. But he felt a sinking feeling in his chest. Just recently, the village chief had suggested going on a broadcast.

“While promoting the village, let’s also help our youth leader get married. I think it would be very helpful if he went on the broadcast with Manager Kim. What do you think?”

Unlike the villagers, the village chief wanted to send his own son on the broadcast, with the main goal of marrying Choi Gi-cheol. When Tae-heun made a serious face, that suggestion was quickly retracted, but it seemed the village chief hadn’t given up hope and was spreading the word here and there.

The topic of conversation quickly shifted, but he felt uneasy. The village chief might have already contacted the broadcasting station, and if they showed up for an interview unexpectedly, it would be a big deal.

Tae-heun thought of someone who could resolve this situation and was about to leave to contact him.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to have a drink with us?”

Aunties who had worked with him at the melon house started to arrive one by one, offering drinks. The aunties, known as someone’s mother, came to deflate the spirits of the men talking about broadcasts and nonsense while showing off their wit. Thanks to them, his mood lightened significantly, and after the gathering broke up, he decided to stay and enjoy the drinking party again.

One of the advantages of living in a village with few children was that no matter how often they saw a child, the adults would give them money. Regardless of age or gender, villagers who saw a child would rummage through their pockets and hand over a thousand won or five thousand won, or if they had nothing else, at least some coins. The child’s smile was wide, and the man was busy trying to stop her.

How could it be so different?

Tae-heun smiled as he emptied his glass of makgeolli.

“Hey, who is that? Oh Dae-ho? What brings you here at this hour? Did you get fired?”

Someone shouted loudly. At that sound, Tae-heun turned around. They say when you talk about a tiger, it comes; Officer Oh Dae-ho entered the gathering room. There was no need to go out to contact him.