Chapter Text
I have this small grocery store at the end of the street. I call it a grocery store because it sells absolutely anything ever: bread, cup noodles, milk cartons, and silly toys that kids love. They visit occasionally, their dirty hands reaching across the counter, asking to buy some candies. They’re easy to be pleased with, with cheap sweets and inexpensive ice lollies being peeled and eaten with satisfaction right at the door.
But there's this boy who’s unlike the others. He goes to my place every day but never eats there. Instead, he puts all the things he bought in his bag, ties it carefully, and then takes it somewhere. He’s short, so the bag is always touching the ground when he carries it with him.
He visits this afternoon too. As usual, he only buys a loaf of bread. The boy appears every afternoon at the same hour to purchase the same thing. At first, I didn't pay much attention to him, but because of his usually unusual appearance, I started feeling curious about the boy.
He doesn’t look older than six, but his eyes are filled with sadness despite his young age. The kid has this faraway look in his deep brown eyes like he’s deep in the ocean. But he smiles a lot. His smiles give him a somewhat bright and adorable vibe.
The kid seems to be a good child from a poor family. The plaid shirt he wears is all worn out, the sleeves folded to the elbows. His trousers are too long for his height; some stitches are no longer in place, and the legs are also folded, so walking is less of a fuss. The shoes he has are old but clean. A well-behaved kid too. I guess his family is not rich, but happy enough. Perhaps his parents just got home from work and gave him money to buy bread for snacks.
I gave him the bag with the bread loaf in it. He pays me with some wrinkled cash that seems to have been attempted to flatten. He says bye, then leaves; his small silhouette disappears into the crowded streets.
After a while, I started befriending him. He said his name was Donghae and that he lived with another kid called Hyukjae. Through his futile words, I learned that their parents had gone somewhere far away, leaving the two children to live together down the street. I guessed it was a few hundred meters away.
Donghae said Hyukjae is very cute. He has big, monolid eyes that resemble crystal balls and sparkle like morning rain. Every time Hyukjae smiles, people can see his tiny front teeth. I’ve been here for so long, but I'd never heard of such a kid before living in the neighbourhood.
Donghae also said that Hyukjae is a very good guy who never makes a mess and is condescending to him. Still, I think Hyukjae is maybe lazy because I’ve never seen him come to my store. Only Donghae is doing all the work. I asked Donghae about where the wrinkled money he gave me came from. He replies with joy in his voice. "I earned it myself! I dance at the park so people give me money."
So he was working to earn a living for both of them, huh?
I pity him somewhat. Once, I gave him two bread loaves. He looked at it, then looked at me again. "I don’t have enough money for two," I told him it was my treat then, but he refused. He also refused the candy I gave him. I had to tell him to bring it back as a gift to Hyukjae. Only then did he accept my treat. The sweets were kept with care. He skipped to the end of the street, and dust flew after him.
The boy still drops by frequently to get bread. There are always loose changes in his pocket. I suppose he is saving it. I gave him a piggy bank for saving, but he declined. I told him to give it to Hyukjae, but he said he must ask Hyukjae first.
He came back the day after, totally forgetting about the piggy bank. Donghae seems to be the happy-go-lucky type, always smiling and chatting about his favourite Hyukjae. I reminded him to ask Hyukjae about the piggy bank, but he said Hyukjae didn’t answer. I thought this Hyukjae kid might be a stubborn one. I gave him another loaf of bread and a stick of butter. He returned the next day with the butter stick. "You gave me this by mistake. Don’t worry, Hyukjae doesn’t eat butter anyway."
Donghae still keeps loose change in his pocket. One day, he brought me a plastic bottle full of coins and old cash. The kid timidly put it on my counter and asked me to count it for him. He must have had this for a long time. The money is old, dirty, and stinks of sweat. I slowly counted twice. That amount of money can only buy him some basic groceries. Hearing the number, he sighed deeply, eyes sad like a kicked puppy.
"I’ve been saving for so long, but it’s still not enough to treat Hyukjae’s sickness." He murmured. I couldn’t even mutter a reply. Donghae kept on rambling, his eyes dreamy. "Hyukjae is sick. He doesn’t talk to me anymore. I’m sad. I save money to treat him, so he’ll speak to me when he’s cured."
I gathered the money for him, and mentally cursed myself for my ill thoughts on Hyukjae before. I guessed he must be sick, to the point of not being able to go out. I asked Donghae to take me to visit him. Before we left, I prepared some canned food and fruit. Donghae thanked me, but he told me not to bring the cans.
"Hyukjae doesn’t eat canned food. I bought it before, but he didn’t touch it the whole night."
Then we went to see Hyukjae. The road seems too long, too dark.
Donghae led me to the poor people’s cemetery. Among the overgrown weeds is a small tomb. On the tightly packed soil turned grey by the wind and rain, I saw a few small pieces of bread left. The sandy soil clings to the rat bites and dry scraps are lying on the sandy soil.
He broke the bread into two, kneeling to put one half on the nameless tomb. Then he turned his back to nibble on the other half. As soon as he turned away, a bunch of disgusting rats ran over, tearing the bread apart.
“I can't look at Hyukjae. If I look, Hyukjae won't eat. "If I turn my back like that, Hyukjae will eat all the bread.”
I stood still, my heart aching. Darkness crept over Donghae’s innocent face. His eyes were sad again. He chewed on the bread, his words falling aimlessly into the thick air.
“Hyukjae still eats bread, but I can’t see him anymore. People said he wouldn’t be back, because I didn’t have enough money to take him to the hospital.”
The wind blew through the long, rustling grass. The kid looked up at me with eyes like marbles. “Don’t you hear? Hyukjae is talking to me.”
I stood there, dumbfounded. The wind was still rustling like a cry. He listened attentively, his innocent face even more sad. “That’s Hyukjae talking. But he sounds so small, I can’t hear what he’s talking about. I will cure him, then we can talk again. I will take care of Hyukjae. I won’t let him get sick again.”
Donghae sounded like he was emerging in that grass field. Then he turned around, pointing at the leftover bread crumbs that the rats left in front of the dreary tomb. “See? He didn’t finish his bread again. Hyukjae doesn’t eat much. He always left some for me.”
I just nodded, tears pricking my eyes. We sat together in the drowsy darkness.
After that day, I took him home and bought him some new clothes. Then we went to get him a birth certificate. I gave him my first name. Lee Donghae. Under “Name of the father(s),” I put “Lee Sungmin.”
I cremated Hyukjae’s body. It took me a long while to assure Donghae that they were not taking his Hyukjae away. I told him Hyukjae moved to a new home now. I told him, Hyukjae live in your heart from now on. He nodded, and his hand reached for his left chest.
Sungmin pauses, putting more dry tea leaves in the teapot. He looks up, his eyes filled with emotions of both happiness and sadness.
“Donghae is visiting Hyukjae today. I stay home to watch the store. He’s only five, but he can manage things on his own like an adult.”
The tea leaves darken in hot water. Smoke drifts in the air. Strong tea essence mixed with bewilderment.
“Let him be, yeah? He trusts me, still. He believes that Hyukjae lives on in his heart. He even calls Hyukjae by my first name, too. Lee Hyukjae.”
Sungmin sips on his tea. The smoke blurs his musing eyes.
“ Kids have such innocent beliefs. Waking them up from such dreams would be cruel, wouldn’t I? Ah… excuse me, there must be dust in my eyes.”
A droplet of tears rolls past his eyelashes, falling into the golden teacup.
Kids have such innocent beliefs. Waking them up from such dreams would be cruel, wouldn’t we?