Almond(45)

He then handed me a letter from Gon.

“I’ll read it after you go,” I said.

I opened the envelope when Dr. Shim left. A white piece of paper was folded into a square. I slowly unfolded the letter. There were a few crude letters, written with care.


Sorry.

Thanks.

Truly.



I stared at the period after “Truly” for a long time. I hoped that period could transform Gon’s life. Would we ever meet again? I hoped so. Truly.





75


The door slid open. It was Dr. Shim again. He was pushing a wheelchair. The person sitting in it beamed at me. A familiar smile. Of course it was, I’d known it ever since I was born.

“Mom.”

As soon as I said the word, Mom burst into tears. She stroked my cheeks and touched my hair, crying all the while. I didn’t cry. I wasn’t sure if it was because my emotional range wasn’t that wide yet, or because my head had grown too big for that crying-in-front-of-Mom thing.

I wiped her tears and hugged her. But strangely enough, she cried even harder. While I’d been asleep, Mom had woken up, like a miracle. She had done what everyone thought was impossible. But she put it differently. That it was me who had done what everyone thought was impossible. I shook my head. I wanted to say more and tell her everything that had happened, but where would I begin? Suddenly, my cheeks felt warm. Mom wiped something off my cheeks. Tears. Tears were streaming down my face. I cry. And laugh, at the same time. So does Mom.





Epilogue


It is my eighteenth spring. I’ve graduated from high school and become what you call an adult.

A relaxing song is playing on the bus. People are dozing off. Spring passes by the bus window. Flowers are in bloom, whispering, Spring, spring, I am spring. I pass by those flowers to see Gon. Not for any particular reason or because I have something to say to him. Just because. Just to see a friend. A good friend of mine whom everyone called a monster.

From now on this is an entirely different story. Completely new and unpredictable.

*

I do not know how this story will unfold. As I said, neither you nor I nor anyone can ever know whether a story is happy or tragic. It may be impossible to categorize a story so neatly in the first place. Life takes on various flavors as it flows.

I’ve decided to confront it. Confront whatever life throws at me, as I always have. And however much I can feel, nothing more, nothing less.





Author’s Note


Four years ago in the spring, I gave birth to my baby. There are a few funny anecdotes about it, but they are not particularly emotional because I did not have a hard time giving birth. Everything just felt strange and new. But after a few days, whenever I caught sight of the baby wriggling in its cradle, I would automatically tear up. Even now, I still cannot explain why. My tears could not be explained by any single emotion.

It was just that the baby was so small. If it were to fall off from its low cradle or be left alone even for a few hours, it would not make it. This creature, who could do nothing on its own, had been thrown into this world, and was floundering toward the air. The fact that this was my child did not sink in, and if I ever lost the child and then found it again I was not confident that I would be able to recognize it. Then I asked myself, Would I be able to give this child unconditional love no matter what it looked like? Even if the child grew to be someone completely different from my expectations? Those questions led to the creation of two characters who prompted me to ask this question: If they were my children, could I love them? That’s how Yunjae and Gon were born.

Children are born every day. They all deserve blessings and to have every possibility open to them. But some of them will grow up to be social outcasts, some will rule and command but with twisted minds. Some, although very few, will succeed against all odds and grow into people who touch hearts.

I know this may be a clichéd conclusion to draw. But I have come to think that love is what makes a person human, as well as what makes a monster. That’s the story I wanted to tell.

I wrote the first draft of Almond for a month in August 2013, when my daughter was four months old. Then I revised the draft heavily for a month at the end of 2014 and another month in early 2016. But throughout those years, the story of the two boys never left my mind. So I could say it took me over three years to write this story from start to finish.

I would like to thank my parents and my family who, thanks to their unconditional love, gave me the gift of a full heart. I once thought, and was even ashamed, that growing up in an emotionally stable condition put me at a disadvantage when it came to being a writer. As time passed, my thoughts changed. I came to realize that the unconditional love and support I’d received throughout my ordinary teenage years was a rare and precious gift, that they served as an invaluable weapon for a person, one that gave me the strength to look at the world from different angles without fear. I realized that only when I became a parent myself.

I want to thank the judges of the Changbi Prize for Young Adult Fiction who chose my work. I feel especially acknowledged to hear that there were eleven teenage judges among them. I also thank my first ever reader, H, who has read all my unpublished writings and added them to H’s reading list as if they are official works. Without H’s laid-back encouragement during my disappointments, I would not have been able to continue challenging myself.