#43

If you don’t want to eat, you could just say, “I don’t have an appetite,” and put down your spoon. It wasn’t a formal gathering, and no one would rush to shove food into your mouth if you didn’t want to eat. Yet this time, he felt like whatever would happen, would happen. It wasn’t like he was going to die from eating. Tae-heun grasped the ladle.

“Sir, let’s start with rice.”

The child offered advice.

“Okay. Got it.”

Tae-heun set the ladle down and scooped about half a bowl of rice into the serving dish. The rice soaked up the broth from the cold noodle bowl.

“I think we need to add more rice.”

The child stuffed his mouth full of bibimbap and mumbled another suggestion.

“You should swallow before you speak.”

The man admonished the child.

“Yes.”

The child replied nonchalantly and gestured for Tae-heun to add more rice quickly.

Tae-heun added a couple more spoonfuls of rice and then ladled the stew mostly filled with ingredients. After that, he topped it with young radish kimchi like the child and the man, and placed two fried eggs on top. The man handed over some gochujang to mix with the rice.

Then, as if they had completed their tasks, the two of them buried their heads in their bowls and began to eat vigorously. The child ate quickly, while the man took his time.

Matching the man’s pace, Tae-heun also took a bite of the bibimbap. A chuckle escaped him. It was delicious. Could it really be this tasty? He took a second spoonful. His eyes met the child’s. The child grinned as if to say, “I told you so.” The man glanced over but did not meet Tae-heun’s gaze.

For a while, the only sounds were the three of them eating, chewing, and clinking their utensils. Tae-heun wanted to pretend he was forcing himself to eat, but he couldn’t. His spoon moved automatically, and the moment the rice entered his mouth, he couldn’t help but marvel at how good it was.

The child polished off a bowl of rice in the blink of an eye and refilled it. Once he felt somewhat full, he finally asked the man what he had done today, whether the rice was ripening well, and if he had been hit by any flying stones. The man answered slowly, a beat or two behind, as he was still eating.

“What about you, sir? Oh right, you said you pulled weeds too, didn’t you?”

The child directed a question at Tae-heun.

“Did you just pull weeds? During the day, I also caught a wild boar. They said a boar as big as a house came out from behind the village hall. The village chief made a fuss over it. But your father was taking a nap, and your brother Ki-cheol was glued to the computer. So I had no choice but to step in. I just slapped its neck twice with my bare hands, and it died right away.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Did you think I was just living a lie? Ask the village chief; it’s true.”

The child looked at Tae-heun with a suspicious gaze.

“Where’s the wild boar?”

“Where do you think? I sold it.”

“To whom?”

“To the butcher in town. They said the one who caught it is the owner, so I sold it for a high price. Ten million won.”

Instead of responding, the child shot him a glare with his eyes.

The man laughed and ruffled the child’s hair.

Tae-heun suddenly thought it would be nice if the man would ruffle his hair too. To say he did well if he did well, and that it was okay if he didn’t. He forced the remaining rice into his mouth.

By 9 PM, the house was as quiet as a mouse. Both the child and the man had fallen into a deep sleep. Only Tae-heun remained awake.

From the morning, the child had been making such a fuss that Tae-heun was completely disoriented. He emptied his bowl without even knowing if the rice was going into his mouth or his nose.

Even though he wasn’t in a position to leisurely do farm work, Tae-heun voluntarily followed the man again. He was confused, unable to understand why he was doing this. But that feeling vanished as soon as he sat in the passenger seat of the truck.

“Where are we heading today?”

He asked in a serious, low voice as if he were a detective. The man smiled.

“To the chairman’s house.”

“What? Is there still a weed-filled field left?”

Tae-heun shuddered.

“That’s all done. This time, it’s a field. It’s not very big.”

The man said casually.

“You always say it’s not very big.”

Tae-heun grumbled.

Before heading to the field, the man went to the chairman Kwon Il-taek’s massive warehouse, which had almost every kind of machinery, and loaded a cultivator, also known as a rotary tiller, into the truck bed. It looked like a small tractor, but you couldn’t ride on it; you had to hold onto the handlebars and walk with your feet like a motorcycle. The man explained that it had a motor, so you didn’t need to exert much effort; just hold it right, and the plow would till the field on its own. Tae-heun half-heartedly replied, thinking how much he hated hearing about that chairman.

Not very big, my foot. Compared to the man’s garden, Kwon Il-taek’s field was vast. While the man’s statement was true compared to the rice paddy they had worked on, it was still a stretch to call it “not very big.”

“The chairman plants various things as a hobby.”

If it’s a hobby, why not do it yourself instead of making you do it? He almost asked but held back. The man looked happy. Whenever he talked about that chairman, he smiled unconsciously. Was he like a father figure? But seeing how he only made the man do hard work, it didn’t seem like he treated him well, yet the man liked him, which tangled Tae-heun’s feelings.

Whether the man knew Tae-heun’s thoughts or not, he skillfully finished preparing for the work. Tae-heun had no choice but to wear the straw hat the man handed him and draped a towel around his neck.

While he meticulously prepared everything else, the man never wore gloves. As a result, his hands were noticeably darker than the rest of his body. Tae-heun’s hands, which were just as rough as the man’s, were also gradually darkening. Instead of turning red and peeling like his face, they seemed to be changing to a bronze color.

The man handled the machine skillfully. Tae-heun followed him around like a five-year-old child. Even though the motor noise was too loud to have a conversation, they walked together. As soon as the man finished one row of the field, Tae-heun shouted that he wanted to try. He raised his hand, saying, “Me!” The man laughed.

“It’s not difficult, but be careful. You could get hurt.”

The man stood closely behind him, explaining how to use the machine. He placed his hand over Tae-heun’s hand and held the handlebars together. The heat radiating from the man was transmitted directly to Tae-heun. Perhaps, in that heat, Tae-heun’s face turned red like the man’s. But there was no sexual tension at all. He had expected it, but he didn’t realize it would be this numb.

Not everyone can become a homo.

Tae-heun shamelessly turned his head toward the man. They were close enough for their breaths to mingle. The man’s dark pupils sparkled in the sunlight, turning a soft brown. It looked just like the man’s skin color. The man continued to hold the handlebars, engrossed in his explanation, only to realize a moment later that Tae-heun’s face was right in front of him.

Startled, he stepped back and let go of the handlebars. Tae-heun was holding the machine, but he was only pretending to hold it, causing it to tilt sideways. The man quickly moved back behind Tae-heun and grabbed the handlebars again. The moment he felt the warmth of their bodies touching, the man swiftly turned off the power.

“Hyung, you’re already here?”

Kwon Yong-jun was watching the two of them from nearby, having appeared out of nowhere.

“Oh? Uh… What brings you here at this hour?”

The man asked awkwardly, still closely behind Tae-heun. If the man didn’t step aside, Tae-heun had nowhere to retreat. The machine was small, and the two of them were large. They were pressed tightly against each other.

A playful impulse struck. Tae-heun deliberately pushed his buttocks closer to the man. He could feel the man’s center of gravity. This time, the man shuddered as if he had a spasm. It was obvious his neck had turned bright red. The man hurriedly distanced himself from Tae-heun.

“I had to go to Seoul, so I woke up early and came out for a bit. Hello, Manager Kim.”

“Yes. Hello. Hyung, you’re a year older than me, so feel free to call me by my name.”

“Later. Oh, hyung. The snacks will be brought at 10. I thought it was just for you, so I only ordered one serving, but I’ll add one for Manager Kim too.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care. See you later.”

Kwon Yong-jun’s attitude was quite cold. His tone and expression were filled with a chilling breeze, but the man seemed completely oblivious.

Even after Kwon Yong-jun left, the man kept his distance from Tae-heun. He didn’t seem angry. He looked flustered. Had the teasing gone too far? He should have kept it moderate.

“Please watch me and see if I do well.”

Tae-heun turned on the machine. With the loud sound of the motor, vibrations coursed through. A moment later, the man approached and walked alongside Tae-heun, just like he had done earlier.

“The vibrations are no joke. It feels just like the shakers in a bathhouse, doesn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

“Were you close with Yong-jun since childhood?”

He shouted loudly to ask.

“He was closer with my younger brother. After all, they were the same age.”

The man had no choice but to shout back.

“Oh, I see. Is your younger brother far away?”

Now that he thought about it, he knew nothing about the man’s family. He only knew that he lived with the child; he didn’t know if his wife had died or run away, whether his parents were alive, or if he had siblings, and if so, how many. He hadn’t asked any of that. No, he hadn’t even been curious. He had been so wrapped up in his own self-pity that he had been ignorant of the person he was living with.

“She died when I was ten.”

The man spoke flatly, and Tae-heun was taken aback.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

Despite his words, his face darkened significantly.

“I have an older brother and a younger sister, but when you grow up, it doesn’t matter. It’s worse than being alone. Sometimes, it’s more comfortable not to have any.”

So this is what it means to speak without thinking, Tae-heun thought, squeezing his eyes shut. Instead of offering comfort, he was sitting there saying that not having anyone was more comfortable. He was truly a madman.