Book 1. Water of the Womb

Agent - Jaehyun Baek

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Seoul, Year G-19

I was never as good as my brother in anything. He was taller, stronger, smarter, better at sports, and popular at school. He had an easy going, friendly personality that drew people to him, whereas I was shy and withdrawn. Like others I was spellbound by his perfection, but as his brother, I was constantly compared to him and found lacking. Everything seemed to come easily to him. He was top ranked in all his classes and still had time to participate in sports clubs throughout the year and have a slew of short lived relationships with beautiful girls.

He was 6 years older than me so I looked up to him as the perfect role model. My parents were certainly not up for the task. My father spent whatever money he could gambling at the pachinko machines or buying alcohol to drown his sorrows. When my mother tried to hide some for necessities, he would yell and storm around our tiny apartment in a destructive frenzy until she relented and let him have it.

My parents were the only ones who my brother didn’t seem to get along with. His blamed my mother for enabling our father, and hated our father for being a wastrel and a scumbag. They pressured him into getting a part time job, then took away all his earnings, ostensibly for “necessities”. I suppose appeasing our father was considered a necessity, then.

The moment he turned 18, he took his scholarship and left for university, never looking back. In his haste to cut ties with my parents, he left me behind. Despite me being barely 13, my father, who had grown accustomed to my brother’s supplementary income, started pressuring me to contribute. But who would hire a scrawny, ill fed and ill dressed child like me?

So I tried to contribute the only way I could figure out. No one ever noticed a small, meek child like me. Their gaze slid over me as though I was part of the scenery, and for all the dirt and grime on me, I might as well have been. Neither did they notice my hands, darting into their pockets to relieve them of their wallets and other valuables.

If the man who owned the pawnshop down the street was ever suspicious of my constant visits, he never said anything. My father’s constant state of debt was well known in the neighbourhood. After my brother left my father had begun searching for bigger gambles and other sponsors to loan him cash. Unfortunately with his credit the only ones willing to loan him any money were loan sharks and gangsters.

At first I was able to keep in contact with my brother. He had been the one bright light in my life, after all. At first he let me, and he would talk about his university life. I let him talk because I had not much to say that wasn’t news to him (other than the thievery, but I didn’t want him to know that). Those conversations are some of my best memories of him. He seemed happy in university, and it seemed that every time I called he had a new story to tell. Long after the call ended I would lay awake, wishing that I too could attend university soon.

One day after a call, my dad happened to be home. It was unusual to see him at night unless he was throwing a fit so I hadn’t realised he was home. “Was that Taejun?” he asked.

I shook my head. Taejun had told me not to let our father know that he could be contacted. My father flew into a rage at the obvious lie.

Immediately I raised my arms to protect my face and head as he rained down clumsy blows at me. He cursed. “Who else could a brat like you be talking to?”

He must have had a bad night because he started kicking as well. “You’re just like that worthless, ungrateful piece of dog shit! That boy has no respect. Turned his back on family. Never! Turn! Your! Back! On! Family!” He punctuated every word with a kick towards whichever part of me I couldn’t protect at that moment. He panted, exhausted by his own fury. “Next time he calls, ask him why he’s not sending any money back.”

He stormed down the hall and the yelling continued a room later.

I retreated into our bedroom to nurse my bruises. I tried to do my schoolwork but it was difficult to focus with the noises of my father yelling and tearing apart the house. Sometime later the noise finally died down. Either my mother caved again or there truly was nothing.

My mother knocked softly on the door and entered. Her hair was messed and she too sported freshly blossoming bruises and scratches. Much of my fathers fury must have been turned on her. She pulled out one of our threadbare blankets and laid down on the floor next to me (we had no furniture in the bedroom). She sighed and closed her eyes. Those eyes were always rimmed with dark circles, either from lack of sleep or lack of peace.

“Jaehyun,” she murmured. It broke my heart to hear her voice, so heavy with long suffering and sorrow. “Please ask Taejun to send money home.”

I didn’t want to, but I told her I would try.

The next day I took the day off school to try to steal some money to appease father. My earnings that day must have satisfied him because he simply grunted and disappeared as he always did without bringing up my errant brother. Mother and I slept peacefully that night.

I tried to keep earning but it was never easy, and whenever I was caught I had to run. I couldn’t risk being caught and arrested. One time I didn’t run fast enough, but the man was happy to enact his own justice on me over taking me to the police station. It was a relief honestly. A few bruises were much easier to deal with than a fine.

Of course I couldn’t keep up with the rate my father gambled the money away. One day I came home and both he and my mother were waiting for me. While he glared at me with reproach, her eyes were downcast, unable to meet mine. Her lip was bloody and split.

“Call him.” His fierce demand did not allow for any resistance. So I did.

“Jae,” my brother answered. “You’re calling early today.” In the background I could hear happy chatter and commotion. Was he .. at a restaurant?

“Yes,” I tried to keep my voice light and unaffected even as my father continued to glare at me.

“I didn’t expect your call. Give me a moment , will you? Hey guys, I’ve got to take this call.” A chorus of voices cheerfully protested in the background. One particularly loud voice cut through. “Get back soon, oppa!”

Taejun laughed appeasingly at the other end of the phone. A few moments later the background noise had disappeared. He had a cell phone? This whole time I thought I had been calling his dorm.

“What’s on your mind? Or did you just want to chat?” Despite having to leave his party to talk to his kid brother, he didn’t sound annoyed or rushed at all.

I desperately wanted to chat but I could see my fathers hands balling up into a fist. I noticed then the blood on his knuckles. I swallowed but my throat felt dry as I choked out my next words. “D-Dad wants to know why you haven’t… haven’t been sending money back.”

He seemed stunned by the question. It had been nearly two years since he left, and I had never talked about dad, or money, in all that time. “He’s watching you right now, isn’t he?”

I was too afraid to speak, but he could figure out the answer from my silence. “Shit,” he swore. He was quiet on the other end for a few more moments. My father shifted impatiently.

“Look, Jae… I’m a full time university student.” His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him. “I’m not making any money.”

I didn’t know what to say. I felt angry and incredulous at his reply. He wasn’t making money and yet he was going to restaurants and had a cell phone? I couldn’t remember if we had ever gone to a restaurant before, and we certainly didn’t have enough money for cell phones.

Maybe Taejun could sense my disappointment in his answer. “I’ve… I’ve got to go,” he said quickly. He hung up without another word.

My father could probably hear the line go quiet. His face darkened in anger and he started to stand. I still regret what I did then.

I ran.

My father was far too out of shape to pursue me, but still his curses and shouts chased me out the house and down the street. I ran and ran, not knowing where I should go. When at last I could not run anymore, I collapsed against a wall in a dirty alley, sobbing for my breath. I knew that my flight had probably doomed my mother to bear the brunt of my father’s rage. I felt the weight of the guilt of betraying both my mother and my brother weighing down on me. It seemed to physically push me down and I slid down the wall, not caring what filth i had probably sat myself down in.

I hadn’t cried in years, but I did then. Tears were worthless and didn’t make anything better but I still couldn’t hold them back. They came pouring out between my hands like a river, painted black by the soot of my fingers. I sobbed like a child, but I felt all the stress and responsibilities of an adult crushing me down. It wasn’t fair that I had been born into this life. It wasn’t fair that I, barely a teenager, had to make money so that my father wouldn’t beat me or my mother. It wasn’t fair that my weak willed mother wouldn’t leave my abusive father or stand up for her sons. It wasn’t fair that my brother had managed to escape, and yet had left me behind to take his place on a pedestal I could never ascend to. For the first time in my life, I truly felt as though I was truly alone. I didn’t know what to do anymore.