Beasts of a Little Land(92)

“Your voice is very different from what I’d imagined. I’ve only seen your silent films . . . Well, how do you two know each other?”

“When I was a student, I used to make money by driving a rickshaw. Miss Jade was one of my best clients,” HanChol stepped in. “We’ll have some catching up to do.”

“Of course. I will get going then. It was nice to meet you, Miss Jade,” SeoHee said, gazing confidently with her shining black pools of eyes before taking her leave.

Drawing a deep breath, HanChol opened the door to his office, and they both walked inside. A bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling, casting an orange light over the large wooden desk piled high with ledgers and books. HanChol sat down behind this desk and spread his hands, palms down, on the papers.

“How have you been?” he said at last. “It’s been such a long time . . .”

“Seven years,” Jade replied. She always had an awareness in the back of her mind of how much time had passed since she’d last seen him. “I heard about your companies, they’re the talk of the town. I was happy to know you’re doing so well. Didn’t I tell you how successful you’ll be?”

“This is nothing much. I’m only just beginning,” HanChol said, smiling.

“You didn’t even know how cars work, and now look at you. This repair shop, so many employees all working under you. I could never have figured out something so complicated.”

“Cars are not that hard to understand if you take the time to study each part. That’s why I like them—their simplicity. Arithmetics, accounting, these are all simple matters. It’s dealing with people that gets complicated.” He wore a weary smile that reminded her of those early years when he’d had nothing.

“You haven’t changed at all. You still look the same,” Jade said. In truth, HanChol had aged. Subtle lines were forked along his forehead; the peaks and valleys of his face had become sharper, setting his handsome features into high relief. He had acquired a more distinguished appearance through aging, as often happens to men between the prime of their youth and a true middle age. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and the loosened collar revealed the top of his strong chest.

“You haven’t either,” HanChol replied. “But why have you come today? Is it because you need food or money? Because if that’s the case, I will do everything I can to help . . .”

“No, that’s not why I’m here,” Jade protested, thinking she would rather starve to death than ask HanChol for food. It devastated her to hear him say that out loud.

“I’m here because my aunt Dani is very sick. She is dying.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” HanChol exhaled, shaking his head. “I know she raised you up.”

“Before it’s too late, she wants to see someone who meant a lot to her in the past. Kim SungSoo sunsengnim . . .”

When the news of HanChol’s thriving businesses had first reached Jade, she had learned that Kim SungSoo was his first employer and benefactor. After turning the publishing house around as its business manager, HanChol had then opened the garage with an initial investment from SungSoo. When Dani told her about SungSoo, Jade finally realized that HanChol’s mentor was one of Dani’s great loves.

“I’ve already sent him a letter dictated by Aunt Dani. And he wrote back saying that if it’s money she needs, he’ll try to help, but that he isn’t up to seeing her face-to-face.”

“That’s unfortunate. He is not a bad person, you know . . .”

“I understand. He probably doesn’t know how much peace he would bring her, how much it would mean to a dying woman. That’s why I’ve come to you. You are so close to him—would you speak to him about this?”

HanChol’s first impulse was to say no, but Jade’s expression of luminous sorrow gave him pause. Her face had thinned and her ivory skin, glittering with sweat, was pulled closer to her bones. There was a new haggardness to her appearance, and when she proudly held her chin up, he could see the subtle horizontal lines skating across her sensitive throat. If he had to describe how she looked, he would have said: like a song your mother used to sing. Or an unopened letter from someone you loved a long time ago, found in the back of a drawer. Or an old tree that suddenly comes to life one spring, its black branches aflame with flowers, as if saying I, I, I. But what moved him wasn’t just the remnants of the past. What was he seeing now that he hadn’t seen before? It was something mysterious and close to her true self. He couldn’t deny that he still found her alluring, even intoxicating. Her bare lips were the color of young girls’ nails tinted with touch-me-not petals.

“I can’t promise anything. He has his own mind about things and it’s not really my position to tell him what to do,” he said. “But I will try my best.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She sighed in relief. “Well, I won’t keep you away from work any longer.”

“Let me walk you out.”

Without speaking, they made their way through the garage and out the entrance. HanChol was intending to walk with her just a little and then go back inside, but the brilliant twilight forced him to stay. The bloodred sky and the long purple shadows made it difficult to say goodbye.

“How are you getting home? It’s far from here.”