The Past, Seoul

I met Jang Yun Seo a few years after my mother died. 

The year she died had been the hardest of my life up to that point, but life after she was gone proved to be even worse than watching her suffer. Instead of her treatments and increasingly bad news, we had to grapple with the reality that we’d never see her smile again or benefit from her wisdom. My father was a wreck afterward, his already poor habits around financial decisions and practical concerns spiraling out of control until we were so deep in debt he couldn’t see his way out of the pit he had created.

Chan Wook took care of the daily chores like household maintenance, cooking and keeping mother’s plants alive while I did my best to get our finances under control. Things improved when I graduated high school and dad went back to work at the university because he had something to distract him from his despair and I had more time to earn money, but dad continued to make bad financial decisions at a rate that outstripped my ability to pay down our debt. Chan Wook wanted to find a part time job to help, but he was still in high school and had much better chances of succeeding in college than I did, so I told him to stay focused on school and that soon enough he would be earning more than the rest of us combined.

My most lucrative job was at a neighborhood Chinese restaurant. I’d started working there while I was still in school and knew all the regulars by name. Most of them lived in the neighborhood, but the food was good enough to attract a few people beyond. Rarely did anyone with real wealth walk through the door, but I could tell Park In Ho had money the first time I saw him. His first visit was with a local, but then he became a regular, coming every first Friday of the month thereafter like clockwork, him, his wife and young child. They would always request the same booth near the fish tank, a table that was generally in my section, and the child would stare at the fish with wide eyes while they ate. Since he always wore an expensive suit and looked effortlessly put together, I at first assumed Park was a businessman, but then I saw him on the news one day speaking on behalf of a client and learned that he was a corporate lawyer, a shock since the kind of people he defended wouldn’t even notice that someone like me existed. 

Then suddenly Park and his family stopped coming at all. 

When he finally returned six months later, he was alone, haggard and unshaven, his hair long in the back as if he’d forgotten to get it cut. I offered him the booth by the fish tank but he asked for a small table on the other side of the room. The table wasn’t in my section, but I volunteered to take his meal to him when it was ready, curious about what had happened and worried when I noticed the stain on his white shirt as he picked up his chopsticks. Divorce was the obvious explanation, but he still wore his wedding ring and the haunted look in his eyes suggested something much worse. His wife had always been lovely and would ask me about school, listening closely to my answers as if she actually cared. I hoped she was okay but I was afraid to ask and find out something had happened to her.

“Thanks,” Park said in a rough voice, his gaze flicking up at me before focusing on the bruise on my neck. “What happened?”

I reached up to cover the bruise out of habit, but stopped myself halfway. “I wrecked my bike,” I replied. “Took a turn too fast.”

A smile tugged at his lips, but his expression was still so melancholy that the smile couldn’t manage to do more than reflect a hint of amusement. “Those things are death traps, you know.” Something about the wry twist of his lips made me think he had a bike of his own, or had at least owned one at some point in his life.

I thought about my reason for buying a motorcycle, the idea that it would be cheap transportation between home, school and my part-time jobs – even though that had proven not to be as true as I’d expected – and then I considered the true reason I had bought it instead of taking public transportation. I’d wanted to feel the speed, to play with the idea of pushing boundaries. I’d taken on so many responsibilities that the idea of freedom even for such fleeting moments had been irresistible even if it came along with danger – perhaps because it was dangerous. Sometimes the idea of escape was intoxicating.

“Not if you know how to drive them,” I protested. “But not everyone on the road drives safely.” And that was the truth. My accident had happened because of another driver who cut me off and gave me no room to maneuver out of the way.

Park nodded thoughtfully as he took a bite and chewed it mechanically, not seeming to even taste the food before swallowing. “You’re that safe of a driver?”

I shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of endangering other people’s lives,” I replied, not mentioning that when I was alone on empty streets late at night I was far less careful.

“How mature,” Park said with a dry chuckle, playing with his food more than he was eating it. “I came in here yesterday and you weren’t here. I thought maybe you’d gotten a new job.”

“Yesterday?” I shook my head, surprised that he’d been looking for me. “I was working one of my part-time jobs then.”

“One of your part-time jobs?” Park repeated, arching an eyebrow. “How many jobs do you have?”

Shaking my head, I started to back away from the table in embarrassment. Even if he was obviously less kempt than usual, In Ho was clearly in a class far above my own. “Three. It’s no big deal.”

“Aren’t you in college?”

I hesitated, thrown off by that question in the way I always was even though I was old enough that I should have graduated by now. I could have gone to college if I’d really wanted to. My father got a tuition discount at the university where he taught, but I had been more concerned with paying down our debts and giving Chan Wook an opportunity to go to school instead. Chan Wook was far brighter than I was and would get more out of the experience I was sure. Even with the discount, dad couldn’t afford to pay for both of us and I wasn’t smart enough to get enough scholarships to do more than bury us in even deeper debt.

“You aren’t,” In Ho concluded by my silence. “Nothing wrong with that. There are many ways to make a living.” Putting down his chopsticks, he leaned an elbow on the table and pointed a finger at me. “In fact, I know someone who’s looking for a driver. It’s easy work and he pays ridiculously well. You probably could quit all of your other jobs and still make far more than you’re making now.”

“What’s the catch?” I asked, fiddling with the seam of my apron where it was starting to fray. 

“Well…” Park shrugged. “He’s an entitled asshole, but I’m sure you’ve had your share of difficult customers if you’re working that much.”

Nodding, I thought back on a few choice occasions where I’d had to escort someone out the door or take their verbal abuse only to get stiffed on my tip. Once I’d even been punched by an angry customer. I didn’t work at that place anymore, but not because I’d quit. They’d let me go because they’d been afraid of retaliation. I suspected that I would have had legal recourse for that, but I hadn’t cared enough to pursue anything. I couldn’t afford representation anyway.

“I might be interested,” I admitted.

Feeling around in his pockets, Park pulled out a phone and swiped a few times before putting it down on the table between us. “Put your number in there. I’ll talk to my friend and set something up.”

I stared at his phone for a while in confusion, wondering why he would do something like this for me, a waiter he barely knew. 

Sighing, Park pulled another item out of his rumpled jacket, a business card, and offered it to me. “This is me,” he said. “Park In Ho.”

I already knew his name from his credit card, but I didn’t say anything. I simply took his card and noted the high quality cardstock and the familiar name of one of the country’s most prestigious law firms. “Ri Sang Kyu,” I said, pocketing the card and picking up his phone to enter my number. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Park took the phone and looked at it before tucking it away again. “You look like you could use a bit of luck.”

“So do you,” I said before I could think better of it, flushing a little when I realized what I’d said. 

To my shock, Park laughed and nodded, his eyes so sad that my chest ached in immediate sympathy. “Oh, I’m the luckiest guy you’ll ever meet. That’s why I’m sharing some of my luck with you.”

Weeks passed and I forgot the encounter. I put Park In Ho’s business cards on my bedside table and got lost in the grind of work and sleep along with brief interactions with my father and Chan Wook when our schedules aligned. Father was obsessed with a grant-funded project at work and Chan Wook was busy studying for entrance exams so our paths rarely crossed these days.

I didn’t recognize Park’s phone number when he called since I’d never bothered to enter it into my phone, and I was about to let the call go to voicemail but something made me answer on the last ring even though the only people who ever called me other than my family were debt collectors. “Hello?”

“Ri Sang Kyu?”

“Yes.”

“Park In Ho. Your favorite customer.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Oh! Good to hear from you.”

“Are you free? My friend wants to meet you. In fact, he needs a ride right now. Can you pick him up at the Imperial Palace Hotel in thirty minutes?”

“On my bike?” I asked with a laugh.

“Of course not. His car is valet parked. He’s been drinking and needs a ride.”

I sighed, having second thoughts since I’d worked as a designated driver for a while and knew exactly what I was in for with a drunk passenger, but the fact that someone so entitled would actually be responsible about not driving under the influence intrigued me. Judging the time and distance between me and the fancy Gangnam hotel, I tried to decide if it was even possible for me to make it there in time. Then I remembered the late payments on my mother’s hospital bills. “How much is he paying?”

Park’s answer sent me running down the hall and pulling on my shoes while I hurried out the front door. “I’ll do it.”

“Great. His name is Jang Yun Seo. I’ll send you his details in a text.” That name sounded familiar but I couldn’t figure out why.

“I’m on my way now. Thanks, again.”