The next day, as soon as Junshik came home, Minu came to apologize.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he said.
Junshik assumed that his wife must have told Minu about the visit from the police detective. He admitted to Minu that he’d been upset, that his lack of frankness was tantamount to a lack of trust. But Minu said that wasn’t the case. He’d only wanted to spare Junshik any unnecessary worry.
“But I’m your brother,” Junshik said. “You should have told me if it was something like this.”
“I’m sorry,” Minu said. “But I thought just keeping quiet and leaving would make things less complicated for you and your wife.”
“What are you gonna do now?”
“I have to leave soon. I thought about it, and I realized I might be getting you in trouble….”
“What are you talking about?” Junshik’s wife interrupted. “What kind of trouble could it be, anyway? We’ll be fine, so feel free to stay as long as you like.”
“Junshik’s a teacher. If things go wrong for me, he could end up being reprimanded. And since the police already paid him a visit, I don’t think it’s going to be safe for me to stay here.”
“But if they knew you were here, they’d already have come after you. You’re safe here,” Minu’s wife said, her face flushing as she looked at Minu. “So stay a little longer if you need to.”
Junshik thought she might be dreading Minu’s departure. No, he was certain of it. He said to Minu, in a cooler voice:
“How long can you live on the run like this? You’re past thirty now—it’s not like you’re still a college student. You can’t just keep running until the world changes…. You don’t actually believe the world is going to change, do you?”
“Whether the world changes or not isn’t the important thing,” Minu said. “I’m just doing what I believe is right.”
“And if you believe it’s right, you have to do it?”
“There has to be someone in the world who speaks up for what’s right.”
“You mean like when we were little and Mom lied about our age when she took us on the bus?”
Minu just stared at him as if he didn’t understand. He had already forgotten. But Junshik would always remember it.
Their mother had taken the two of them on a bus that day. Junshik was in third grade then, so he was nine and Minu was seven. School-aged children were entitled to a reduced fare, but their mother wanted them to ride for free to save money. So she lied and told the ticket taker that Junshik was six and Minu was five. But she’d subtracted so much from their real ages that there was no way the man was going to be fooled.
“Ajumma, stop lying and just pay the fare,” he said.
“Lying? What are you saying? They look older because they’re tall, but they’re only six and five.”
“Look, if you’re gonna lie, make it believable at least. Who’s gonna believe a kid this big is only six? In the old days he would’ve been old enough to get married!”
Junshik did his best to make his mother’s blatant lie believable. He tried to pretend he was like one of those kids whose body grew too quickly, big for his age and a little slow in the head. But the judgment came down very simply from an unexpected source. Minu, who had remained a silent witness until then, suddenly blurted out, “I’m not five. I’m seven.”
Junshik and his mother were shocked, but so was the ticket taker, who exchanged glances with the bus driver. Junshik still vividly recalled the expression on his mother’s face—she looked like she’d just been slapped.
The ticket taker bent down over Minu. “What was it you just said?” he asked. “How old did you say you were? Can you tell me?”
Minu looked straight up at Junshik and his mother. She said nothing, but her face gave away the complexity of her emotions and her eyes were pleading with him not to answer.
“Yes,” Minu said. And then he went on, as if he were reciting a lesson from a textbook. “I’m seven years old. I’m in first grade at Myeongdeok Elementary School in Daegu.” It sounded like he thought he was on the children’s radio show Who’s Better than Whom?
“Yes? Of course!” the ticket taker said, mussing Minu’s hair. “You’re an honest little boy.” He gave Junshik’s mother a sharp look. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, lying in front of a child like this?”
With her charade exposed, their mother had no response except to pay the fare.
“Well, ajumma,” the ticket taker said as he received the money. “At least you got one good son here.”
But is it really possible, in this world, to say that one thing is right and another is not? If something is said to be right, then who has the ultimate authority to say it is? Junshik thought, looking into the face of the virtuous son who had turned out to be a criminal on the run.
“You’re right, I will have to turn myself in one day,” Minu was saying. “But not now—I can’t afford to get caught now. It’s not just about me, I have to protect my friends, too.”
“If they catch you, how long will they put you away?” Junshik’s wife asked, her voice full of concern.
“I don’t know. I suppose it would be a few years at least.”
She sighed quietly. She seemed on the verge of tears, and seeing that made Junshik feel a stab of pain.
“This is terrible, because it’s time you got married and settled down,” he said. “You do have a girlfriend, right?” Junshik looked sidelong at his wife to see her reaction to what he’d said. Maybe it was just his own suspicion, but she seemed shocked. She was trying to keep her expression neutral, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was suddenly blushing.
Minu seemed equally embarrassed. “How did you know that?” he asked.
“The cop told me. I think he said her name is Mihye.”
His face red, Minu stared at Junshik in disbelief. “How would they know all that?” he asked.
Junshik watched his wife as she got up without a word and walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. When he joined her after a long while, he found her sitting in front of her dressing table, head bowed. He couldn’t tell if she was deep in thought or crying. But then, why would she be crying? What was there for her to cry about?
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
She didn’t look up. She sat there in that same pose—for how long, he didn’t know—until she suddenly turned to face him.
“I think our marriage was a mistake,” she said.