Almond(28)

“Now I think it hurts, very much. But you look uncomfortable.”

“Of course, I don’t like this kind of stuff. I’d rather kill it in one go, nice and clean. I fucking hate giving slow torture.”

“Then why do this. I can’t give you what you want anyway.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

Gon’s face was contorted. Just like on the day when he kept stomping me down at the incinerator. He tried to do something more to the butterfly but he couldn’t. A wingless butterfly, spinning around with a needle stuck through its body, was no longer a butterfly. The bug was expressing pain with its entire body. Thrashing back and forth, left and right, fighting for its dear life. Was it pleading with us to stop, or trying its very best to survive? It must be pure instinct. Not emotion, but instinct triggered by the senses.

“Fuck it. I quit!”

Thump, thump, thump. Gon hurled the butterfly to the floor and stomped on it with all his might.





45


A small dot was left on the spot where the butterfly had been. I hoped it’d gone to a safer place. And I wished that I could’ve helped it avoid such discomfort.

I think what happened that day with the butterfly was kind of like a staring contest. A simple game. If you close your eyes first, you lose. I always won in these kinds of games. Other people struggled to keep their eyes open, when I just didn’t know how to close my eyes in the first place.

It had been days since Gon last visited me. Why was he angry at me after doing such a thing to the butterfly? Because I didn’t react? Because I didn’t stop him? Or was he mad at himself for doing what he did? There was only one person I could ask about these questions.

*

Dr. Shim always tried his best to answer my questions. He was also the only one who listened to me talk about my special relationship with Gon without any prejudice.

“Will I live like this my entire life, feeling nothing at all?” I asked after slurping down a bowl of udon. Dr. Shim bought me meals occasionally, and he seemed to like noodles. It was either bread or noodles. He swallowed the remaining pickled radish in his mouth and wiped his lips.

“That’s a hard question. But I’ll say this, the fact that you asked that question in the first place is in itself a big step. So let’s keep trying.”

“Trying what? You said there was an inherent problem with my brain. Mom fed me almonds every day, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, instead of eating almonds, I was thinking external stimulation might be worth a try. The human brain is actually dumber than you think it is.”

Dr. Shim said if I kept making up emotions, even if they were fake, my brain’s little almonds might perceive them as real, which might affect the size or activity of my amygdalae. Then maybe I would be able to read other people’s emotions a little easier.

“My brain has been still for the last fifteen years. How can it suddenly change now?”

“Let me give you an example. A person who has no talent for skating will probably not become the best skater even after practicing for months. A tone-deaf person won’t ever sing a perfect aria and get applause either. But with practice, you can at least stumble a step forward on the ice or manage to sing a measure of a song. That’s what practice can offer—miracles and also limitations.”

I slowly nodded. I understood him but I wasn’t convinced. Could that work even for me?

“When did you start asking yourself these questions?” he asked.

“A couple days ago.”

“Was there a specific reason or incident?”

“Well, no, I was thinking, like I hadn’t watched a movie that everybody else had watched. Of course I don’t mind, but if I watched that movie, then I’d have a few more things to talk about with people.”

“What an improvement! What you just said implies your willingness to communicate with others.”

“Maybe it’s a puberty thing.”

Dr. Shim laughed.

“While you’re at it, practice your emotions with something fun. You’re basically a blank canvas. Better to fill it up with good things rather than bad things.”

“I’ll try. I don’t know how but it’s better to try than do nothing.”

“It’s not always great when you understand emotions that you were once unaware of. Emotions are tricky business. You’ll suddenly see the world in a completely new light. Every little thing around you might feel like sharp weapons. A subtle expression or a few words could sting you. Think of a rock on the street. It doesn’t feel anything, and it never gets hurt either. A rock has no idea when people are kicking it. But imagine if it felt how many times it got kicked, stomped on, rolled, and worn down every day, how would it cope? I’m not sure if this makes any sense to you . . . what I’m trying to say is . . .”

“Oh, I understand. Mom used to tell me similar things. Though I know she was just trying to make me feel better. She was a very smart person, you know.”

“Most moms are smart.” Dr. Shim smiled.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. What do you want to know about?”

“Human relationships? I guess.”

Dr. Shim burst into laughter. He drew up his chair and put his arms on the table. First, I told him about the butterfly incident. As my story went on, Dr. Shim clenched his fists. But once I finished, his expression softened.