In the other room, Seok Chun rustled in bed. He finally sat up and lit a cigarette. Seok Chun sighed deeply as the smoke clouded the room. He, too, could not fall asleep, knowing his marriage was nearing its end. He no longer felt like a member of his own family, but like a stranger to his wife and a mere acquaintance to his son. Although he was still considered a husband and a father socially and legally, he had relinquished those responsibilities.
Seok Chun did not eat the dinner Sun Hee had prepared, but she did not care. He decided to sleep in the other room by himself, but she did not care about that either. This had become a nightly occurrence, the physical realization of their isolation and scarred emotions.
Sun Hee recalled the judge’s countenance when he had escorted her out the door at the courthouse. She recalled his deep-set but soft eyes and his authoritative voice. Sun Hee knew that Judge Jeong Jin Wu was the only one who could legally put an end to her marital problems and her inexplicable misery. She regretted not convincing the judge to allow her to divorce Seok Chun. When the judge inquired about the marriage, all she did was brood over their personality conflict, her future, her occupation, speaking in nonsensical abstract metaphors like “not on the same rhythm.” Like a child, frustrated with things not going her way, she had rambled on and on to the judge without making a clear case for herself. She sighed with regret…
6
Jeong Jin Wu woke up at dawn, disturbed by the sound of the moaning wind and rustling tree branches.
A ray of moonlight and the dim glow of the streetlights penetrated the curtains, casting a gloomy shadow over the room. The furniture and other household objects were consumed by the darkness, but the large shadows on the ceiling and walls seemed to come to life, roaming about the desolate room like nocturnal creatures, whispering to one another.
Soon the wind subsided, and Jeong Jin Wu felt calmer. Like a child, he did not want to get out from under his warm covers. The heated floor was at just the right temperature, and he was cozy inside the silky, fluffy blanket his wife had made. He wanted to fall back asleep and imagine the sound of his wife preparing breakfast in the kitchen. However, there was no sound coming from the kitchen, and his room was the only place alive in the apartment, with the animated shadows dancing on the walls.
Convoluted thoughts troubled Jeong Jin Wu, and he felt confined and trapped. Was it because he had not slept well last night? Or was it perhaps because he had to return to the many marital problems waiting in his office at the courthouse? Civil suits were not serious problems compared to the criminal trial that would be held that morning.
The director of the City Electricity Distribution Company had designed an electric blanket for personal use and had been using it without permission from the government. This was considered a felony, as the entire country was trying to conserve energy. He was not an ordinary citizen, but the director of the very institution whose priority was the conservation of energy. For this reason, he was going to receive a severe sentence. It was not simply a crime of wasting energy, but a crime of selfishness and greed. Electricity was more precious than money or any other commodity because it was the property of the nation.
Jeong Jin Wu expected a large turnout at this hearing. The sentence was to be stern in order to prevent anyone from thinking that wasting electricity was a negligible offense. Representatives from local institutions, industrial complexes, and factories were expected to attend. Before the senior judge left on a business trip, he had ordered the district judges to give the director a harsh sentence and had told Jeong Jin Wu to oversee the entire hearing so that there would be no errors.
Jeong Jin Wu finally forced himself out of bed and did some chores around the house. He was worried about the vegetables in the greenhouse, so he took a closer look at each one and recorded the changes in humidity level and temperature that had occurred during the night.
The world outside Jeong Jin Wu’s apartment was still dark. There was no light in the sky. Across the street, there were only a few apartments with lights on as diligent housewives prepared for the new day and husbands dressed to go to work. The other apartments still had not woken from their peace and comfort, their dark windows obscuring a dormant hope for a new day coupled with anticipation for new challenges. One by one, the lights went on. Joy, hope, curiosity, and love of life woke up to face the new dawn. More lights were turned on, and soon, a new determination for a new day emanated from all the apartment windows.
Are Lee Seok Chun’s lights on at this hour? The couple could not have had a good night’s sleep. Without a doubt, Sun Hee must have slept with Ho Nam in the other room, while Seok Chun slept alone. It must have been a cold and lonely night for the family, thought Jeong Jin Wu.
The sun, too, woke from its slumber and brightened the morning sky.
Jeong Jin Wu completed the chores and prepared to go to work. He paid closer attention to his shirt, suit, and tie than usual because today was no ordinary day but the day of a big trial. After one last glance in the mirror, he grabbed his briefcase and left his apartment.
By coincidence, Jeong Jin Wu saw Seok Chun and Sun Hee on his way to work that morning.
The two were walking in the same direction, but at a distance from each other, with Sun Hee in front. She wore a fancy feathered brooch on her bright two-piece suit, and she had her hair and expensive makeup done like a true celebrity. She was easily identifiable in the crowd of other women. This was how she normally dressed, and she always carried herself with confidence. It would be hard for anyone to believe she was miserable just by looking at her appearance. She had taken extra measures to hide her despondency from the locals of the Gang An District out of pride.
Sun Hee turned and gestured at Ho Nam to catch up to her.
Despite his mother’s urgency, Ho Nam kept his distance. Then he stopped and stood by some trees on the side of the road. The distance between him and his mother increased, but he did not care. He kept looking back.
Behind him was his father, dragging his feet with his head lowered. Seok Chun’s disheveled hair fell forward and covered his forehead. He kept his head down and looked at the small pebbles on the road.
Seok Chun’s countenance was utterly wretched. Although he had on a nice dark-blue suit, it looked as if he had not ironed it. His white dress shirt was covered in yellowish grease stains. It was evident that Sun Hee had not washed his clothes for quite some time. His shoes were dirty and worn, as though they had not been shined. Those shoes were lugging around a heavy and depressed pair of legs. He did not even realize that he had just passed his son.
“Dad!” cried Ho Nam.
Seok Chun stopped. As soon as he looked at his son standing by the trees, Seok Chun’s face turned bright and full of life.
“Hey, you! Why are you standing here?” Seok Chun knew why, but for the sake of Ho Nam, he said, “Why don’t you follow your mom? You’ll be late for kindergarten.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“What? Where do you want to go then?”
“To your factory!”
“You know you can’t do that,” corrected Seok Chun.
Seok Chun fixed Ho Nam’s collar and buttoned his sweater.
“Now go on to school, and watch out when you cross the street,” said Seok Chun softly, patting Ho Nam’s head.
Ho Nam nodded reluctantly.