A comfortable silence settles between Neighbor Song and I. Like her grandson, she is a person of few words. In the distance I hear a motor bike coming. It sounds like a small one. We look at each other and then back at the drive. A little green scooter is coming down the drive. Hae-in has a red checked helmet on his head. He parks the bike. When he pulls off the helmet, my heart flutters and I suddenly feel very warm. He smiles at us and crosses the yard. He doesn’t look unhappy. In fact he starts whistling “Fire,” by BTS. When he reaches us he smiles so big I think his face is going to drop in half. With his thumb he points at the bike, “Well, I got that today and a full time job.”
I sense Neighbor Song working up a happy face. She says, “That is good. What job did you get?”
His smile grows wider. “The Market is up and running and I have been hired as an assistant manager.”
Neighbor Song says, “But you are a bank manager.”
He shrugs and says, “A manager is a manager.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
This means he is staying in Korea, and in two weeks I am leaving. I look at him and he is looking at me. I am not sure what I see in those eyes. What do I want to see? For a moment everything inside of me gets very still. I tell myself it is a good thing I’m leaving. My heart begs to differ. As this realization passes through me, Hae-in says, “I heard from Seo, he asked us over Friday night.”
I thought Dami had forgotten, or Hae-in had declined. Instant joy rushes through my sinking heart.
*
The peddler that sells clothing and housewares was in the neighborhood today. His chant was hypnotic as he stood beside his truck. When he held up a pastel oranger dress I fell in love with it. In my room, I slip into over my head and look into the mirror.With my sun pink cheeks, I look healthy. There is light in my eyes.With one eye on the clock, I brush my hair and braid it. When I finish I go to the living room and watch the hands on the old clock move slowly to 6. From the kitchen I hear Auntie Ji An humming. Finally the hands of the clock both land on the number 6. Right on time there is a knock on the door. Hae-in is here. Careful not to seem too eager I make my way to the door. When I open it everything in me just wants to step into his arms. He says one word, “Pretty.”
“Thanks.” I feel my sun burned face grow warmer.
He asks, “Ready?”
“Yes.” We are such conversationalists. I grab my purse and Auntie Ji An’s keys. We are taking the VW to Dami’s house.
From the kitchen, Auntie Ji An calls, “Ya’ll have fun.”
Hae-in says, “We will.”
I am praying his words are a promise he means to keep.