Chapter Text
Four years old...
Everything is better with appa around. Eomma and I now live in his house and I get to see him all the time. Appa is always very quiet and nice and kind to me, and in the evening I get to stay next to him while he works in the living room. I can watch cartoons as long as the volume is low, and I can draw as well if I want to, but only if I ask and if I use the papers that appa or eomma give me. One time I drew a lot of sharks on one of his papers and it was A Very Important Paper and he frowned and eomma got very angry and I cried a lot. So then appa waited for me to stop crying and asked if I would do it again and I promised no. So now I ask nicely and wait for him to give me a paper and I pretend to work and scribble just like him.
Sometimes I just snuggle with him on the sofa as he reads his papers until eomma joins us. They are both soft and warm and I sometimes fall asleep cuddled in between them until they take me to bed. It’s my favourite part of the day and everything feels good and happy and bright.
Eomma is always smiling and happy and loud, and she now has a baby in her tummy which appa put in one day when she kissed him really hard because he started wearing glasses. She told me that he looked very pretty that day, but I think that appa looks very pretty every day. Eomma also says that it is a surprise baby but I don’t know what that is, and how it is different from a baby that is not a surprise. I also cannot understand how appa wearing glasses brought about a baby in eomma’s tummy.
I don’t know how the baby fits in her tummy, but she says it’s still very small. Once I asked who put me in her tummy, but she got this strange look and appa became frowny and grumpy so I never asked again. Maybe I was never in her tummy. I don’t really like squishy places anyway.
Everything is really better with appa around but shopping with him is so boring. Usually it is eomma who does the shopping, and she rushes around and I help her pick out things that are really colourful and really good which she just throws in the trolley. But even though today is Saturday, eomma has to work so she asked appa to do it. So yesterday evening after dinner he opened all the cupboards and stared and blinked at them for a very long time, then he made a very long list and it is now taking him ages to choose anything. He is carrying his list and keeps looking at it and doesn’t ask me for help. So I’m sitting on the trolley, staring at him as he keeps on picking up very boring looking things and comparing them very seriously, before deciding whether they should be placed in the trolley.
Eomma is going to hate everything that he is buying I think.
As we finally come to the sweets section, I smile my very best smile and pat him on his arm to get his attention. He looks at me back with his special look that is just for me and eomma and which we like very much, and we make our way to the section with all the chocolate and the sweets. I’m really excited and reach out to grab my favourite shark shaped gummies, only for appa to walk right across it to the fruit and vegetable section.
“Appa?”
“Yes?”
“The chocolates and the gummies are over there, ” I point out helpfully. Maybe he missed them. Sometimes he thinks a lot and misses things. But chocolate and gummies are important and he cannot miss them.
“Sweets are not in the list,” he replies as he looks at that stupid paper again.
“Sweets are always on eomma’s list!” I cry indignantly. This cannot be happening.
Appa tilts his head in the way he does and I tilt it back at him and we blink at each other for a few seconds. “Eomma does not keep a list, Nari,” he finally replies
“But eomma and I need sweets to be on your list, appa ,” I explain very slowly.
“Nari, what you and your mother need are apples, and carrots, and fresh food,” he replies with his very serious tone, as he reaches out for something that looks very green and very yucky. “You need to eat good food so that you can grow.”
“You and eomma measured me last week and you said that I grew!”
“Yes, that was a very good effort, Koala Bear. But you need to grow more,” he murmurs as he weighs the green thing. I’m starting to feel really angry and I think I’m about to cry but before I can do that, a voice which I don’t know interrupts us.
“Si-mok, is that you?”
Only eomma calls appa by his name so this is very strange. The man is looking at appa closely. He is a bit old and has grey hair and doesn’t look scary, but appa is now gripping the trolley very hard and staring at the man with the face he makes with people he doesn’t like very much.
“It is you. I can’t believe it,” the man continues. “What a happy coincidence,” he adds with a smile. He seems friendly and nice, and I’m about to say hello but then I look at appa and decide not to.
“Not such a coincidence,” he replies. “I live in this country, you don’t. Although it seems that you’re back,” he says, and pushes the trolley, and me in it, away from the man. I think it's quite rude to do that and I’m about to remind him that manners are important but I see how his lips are pressed together and I think that maybe manners are not always that important after all.
“Si-mok, wait. Please,” the older man says, and starts to follow us. “It’s been years, let’s talk.” When appa does not stop, the man reaches out for his arm, causing my father to flinch and shrug off the man’s hand in a way that makes me want eomma to be here.
I’m starting to feel a bit scared. “Appa, who is this man?” I whisper.
The man seems to suddenly notice me, and he stares at me with his mouth wide open, as I try to hide behind my dad. “You are a father,” he murmurs.
Appa stops suddenly, his face blank and his voice low. “Yes it’s been years, I know. But there is nothing to talk about. And you’re upsetting my daughter,” he says in a tone which he never ever ever uses at home.
“I’m sorry, you’re right,” the man replies. “I never thought I’d see you again, and I still cannot believe it. I’ve been following your work on the news for a while now. You’ve turned into a remarkable man, Si-mok. And I’m proud of you.”
“How long have you been back in Seoul?” appa asks after a second.
The other man looks away, and does not answer.
“Just as I thought. Proud, but not enough to inform me that you had returned,” appa says, with a shake of his head.
I still cannot understand who this man is, and why he is following us, until he then starts to speak again.
“You have every right to be angry with me, and I know it,” he says. “I left you and your mother, and there is nothing I can say or do to erase that. But I’m sorry, son, and it seems that the gods are giving me the opportunity to apologise.”
“There was no need for the gods to give you anything. You’ve had more than thirty years to apologise, and you didn’t,” my father snaps back. "And let’s make one thing clear to avoid confusion,” he adds. “I am not anyone’s son. I haven’t been anyone’s son for many years now, and my life or achievements are irrelevant to you. So follow me on the news, or don’t. I don’t care.”
So this man is appa’s father, and appa is angry, and I don’t know what to do. I clutch at his sleeve and he suddenly remembers that I’m here too and his face changes when he looks at me. He strokes my hair gently and whispers that everything is ok, even though I don’t think it’s true.
The man tears up a paper from a small notebook and scribbles some numbers on it. “This may be too soon, but take my number, just in case,” he says, as he offers the paper to my father.
Appa looks at the paper but refuses to take it, staring at the man again with that dark, scary expression, and the man shakes his head. “Is this what you have become?” he asks with a frown. “Are you like that with her as well?” He is looking at me and appa grips the trolley again, so hard that his knuckles turn white.
“I am not like this with her, or her mother,” he replies sharply. “They matter.”
The man looks sad at this, but he just nods and shrugs, and throws the paper in the trolley, anyway. “Just think about it, Simok,” he finally says, before walking away.
Appa doesn’t talk for quite a while, but he doesn’t continue shopping either. He just seems to walk around the supermarket with his thinking expression and something else I’m not sure about.
“Appa, are you sad?” I finally ask in a low voice. I don’t want to disturb his thinking.
He looks at me for a bit before answering. “I’m not sure, Koala Bear. Maybe I am, but appa doesn’t understand feelings very well,” he says.
I think appa should be able to tell when he is sad, so I think of a way of explaining it to him. “Being sad is where it hurts here ,” I say, pointing at my tummy.
“Your tummy?”
“Yes, your tummy hurts and then it goes up and becomes tears,” I continue helpfully.
Appa stops walking. “Do you get tummy aches often?” he asks very very seriously.
I shake my head. “Not since you and eomma and me are always together,” I reply, because it is true . “But I used to get tummy aches when eomma used to cry after putting me to bed, and when you used to leave in the morning after sleepovers.”
“Why?” he asks, looking surprised.
“Because I missed you." Sometimes appa doesn’t understand things that are really easy. I don’t know why.
He smiles at that. His little smile, not the big one, but it is better than nothing and it makes me smile back at him. He doesn’t say anything else, but he turns the trolley around, and we go back to the sweets section where he gets me a big bag of shark gummies and a box of chocolates for eomma.
Maybe next time he’ll remember to put them on his list.
When he loads the shopping bags in the trunk of the car, appa finds the paper that the man had left. He crumples it up and is about to throw it away, but then stares at it for a few seconds, and puts it in his pocket.
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Later, I’m playing puzzles on his tablet while he and eomma clear the shopping bags. As I thought, she is not very impressed with his choices, but the box of chocolates gets him a kiss on the cheek.
Appa is however very quiet and serious, even more than usual, and eomma keeps sneaking glances at him. Finally, he speaks.
“I bumped into my father today,” he tells her.
Eomma drops the bag of carrots that she is holding on the table, and moves towards him, one hand on his cheek. “Are you ok?” she asks.
Appa shrugs, and looks away. Then he shakes his head.
Eomma turns to me. “Nari, appa and I need some grown up time. Please go play in your room.”
I’m confused because grown up time is usually happy and mushy and my parents go out and wear nice clothes and I get to sleep over at Uncle Geon and Auntie Hae-won. This does not seem to be mushy but eomma is speaking to me in that tone that I know I have to obey.
Suddenly my tummy starts to hurt.
Some time later, as I’m on my bed hugging sharkie very very tightly, I hear a big crash, and I rush out to see a broken glass of water on the floor, and my appa on his knees, with his hands clutching his head. Eomma is kneeling next to him with her arms around him, stroking his hair gently.
“Nari, go back to your room,” she snaps, when she sees me. But I won’t, not this time. Not with my appa trembling in her arms as he grasps at his ears with his face very red.
I shake my head and we stare at each other before she gestures for me to come next to them. I tiptoe to them, being careful to avoid the glass shards, and she places my arms around appa.
“Stroke his hair gently,” she whispers. “Be still and quiet and wait for your father to feel better.”
It feels like a very long time, and I’m scared, but after a few minutes appa stops trembling and starts to breathe slowly. He lowers his hands from his ears and I suddenly feel his arm around me as he pulls eomma and I close. I hear him say, very very softly, “my girls, I love you ,” before he hugs us to him tightly.
And that’s how we stay for a long while. Appa, eomma and me, in a big big hug, making each other feel better.
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