Rabbit Hole Chapter 23

“I peeled fruit. I even got praised for being good at peeling pineapples.”

Geumseo, for whom receiving praise was rare, said it proudly. Go San was half lying down, his gaze fixed on a book. To Geumseo’s eyes, having gone to America when he was young and stayed a few years but forgotten nearly all his English, it was a book that looked like nothing but alphabet letters. He wondered if Go San was even listening to him while reading something like that.

“Pineapples grow underground.”

Go San mumbled in a sleepy voice.

“Underground? Not on trees?”

“Yeah. Underground.”

He hadn’t known that. Geumseo, genuinely surprised, rounded his eyes and made Go San confirm it several times. Only after the words ‘You’re not messing with me, right?’ came out did Go San search it up and show him a picture. It was really underground.

“Let’s go see them next time.”

Go San said, tossing the book aside with a thud. Lately his records had been good so he’d upped his training intensity a bit, which made him tired. His hair had gotten all brittle too. Whereas Yang Geumseo’s hair, soft even using cheap shampoo, was worth touching. Go San lay down as if sliding, and thanks to that, Geumseo, who was wrapped in that arm, had to lie down too.

“Are there pineapple farms in Korea?”

“No.”

“Then how can we go see them…?”

Geumseo, suddenly feeling uneasy, asked in a very small voice. Go San, seeming annoyed, didn’t answer. Or maybe he was irritated at being asked something so obvious. Go San gripped Geumseo’s cheek and then wrapped around his neck and stroked it. Now, whenever his neck was grabbed, the fellatio that Go San had forcibly pressed down and taught him came to mind, so Geumseo rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth for no reason.

“I want to go to my own place tomorrow.”

Go San didn’t answer. He seemed to have fallen asleep. It was something he had said aiming for that. A long while later, Geumseo lifted his body and whispered in a very small voice.

“I did tell him.”

Having finished his business arbitrarily, Geumseo lay back down snugly with a satisfied face. Geumseo, too, had had an extremely tiring day, so he fell asleep immediately. And as soon as Geumseo fell asleep, Go San opened his eyes. With an unreadable expression, he stared at the ceiling and fiddled with Geumseo’s neck.

∞ ∞ ∞

Even though it was only his third shift, he could tell that the job Go San had introduced was more comfortable than any other part-time work he’d experienced so far. Geumseo diligently peeled pineapples that apparently grew underground, not on trees, and prettily bloomed mangoes into flower shapes. The head chef called the pit in the middle of the mango a rib cage. That sound came across as a bit chilling. So Geumseo fiddled with the mango for a long time, and when break time came, with his hands smelling sweet, he touched his own ribs.

And that night, Geumseo went to his own place. Not Go San’s house. He carried a thick winter blanket on his head and back, went to the coin laundry, put in a ton of detergent, and washed it. He dozed off watching the blanket slowly tumbling inside the washing machine. He dozed off again watching the damply wet blanket tossing inside the dryer, which he’d put it into accepting it might shrink this time. Before he knew it, it was morning. Geumseo hugged the blanket, which was fluffy but seemed a little deflated and slightly shrunken, went home, and promptly fell asleep. The phone plugged into the charger was quiet the whole time—he thought that if he was unreachable, Go San might come find him again, grab him by the hair, or this time really slap his cheek painfully.

∞ ∞ ∞

Surprisingly, after that day, contact from Go San cut off completely. When two days had passed, he was anxious; when three days had passed, he felt relieved. For all they knew, Go San was smart, so he must have realized that sleeping with him and seeing his records drop was nothing but a coincidence. Geumseo felt a little embarrassed about just getting the job referral and bolting, but he decided to think that since this money was going to be used to pay back Go San’s family anyway, it was good for both of them.

Though the blanket had shrunk, maybe because his body was more comfortable, Geumseo’s work efficiency naturally increased as well. Before he knew it, just one more shift and the gas station would be over too. His condition was so good as long as he didn’t meet Go San that he was almost regretting having said he would quit.

“Hey. Maknae.”

Even though he wasn’t the youngest by age, the staff, especially the ones younger than Geumseo, deliberately called him maknae.

“What’s so good that you’re humming away.”

“No, work’s going well…”

Even though they hadn’t even exchanged names and barked at him in casual speech right away, Geumseo couldn’t bring himself to say anything objectionable. He didn’t know why words that came out so readily to Go San just wouldn’t come out here. Geumseo shut his mouth tight.

A staff member with comical eyebrows, maybe from a bad cut while trying to put in a scratch, tilted his hand and head over his shoulder.

“Come out to the hall.”

“Why…? Me…?”

“Fuck, when I say come out, you come out. So much talking.”

Even though it was the same curse, while Go San’s had flavor like greased and seasoned meat, that staff member’s profanity had the grating quality of the sound of spitting phlegm through teeth. Geumseo, unaware that he had come to think of Go San more often than Go Unha by now, wiped his hands and came out to the hall. The remaining pineapples, mangoes, and other fruits weighed on his mind.

“You’re on hall duty today.”

“Why me?”

“Just do it when you’re told. Just, come on.”

The staff member abruptly raised his fist, then went ‘Ah, jeez,’ and in his own way of holding back, smacked Geumseo on the back. It was between his shoulder blades. Geumseo let out a groan and rubbed his back. Still, he was lucky it wasn’t his shoulder blade. The shoulder blade hurts quite a lot. He knew from being hit before by a loan shark Mister who was driving him in a van.

“You just carry the food out like an object and come back. Got it? If they ask for something, you do it promptly, quickly and nimbly.”

“Until when…? Me…?”

“I don’t know. Fuck. Until the boss sends you back to the kitchen. Damn, you talk a lot.”

The funny eyebrows shoved Geumseo into the hallway without warning. From the staff entrance, the kitchen was close and the path simple, but it wasn’t the rooms. Actually, even the term hall serving was wrong. There was no hall here. There were only rooms and hallways like an ant tunnel.

Geumseo stood at the hallway entrance with a tense look. Soon, a small light outside a room flickered. He just had to go in there, take the order, and serve. At least he knew that much. The problem was, that was all he knew.

“Not going in?”

A burly security guard standing in the hallway barked at him. Geumseo dashed off as if his tail were on fire.

“Didn’t I say? They manage the looks here well.”

Those were the words Geumseo heard as soon as he entered.

“He’s cute.”

A woman resting her chin on her hand assessed Geumseo with a ‘Hmm’ and a laugh.

“Is that cute? Looking all listless, what’s, fuck.”

That was the assessment of the man sitting next to the woman.

“That’s exactly what makes him cute, honey.”

The woman assessed again. After taking orders and serving a few times like that, Geumseo came out feeling as if labels were hanging all over his arms and legs. #Cute #Listless #MakesYouWantToHaveHimSuckYouOnce #SeemsLikeHe’dBeFunIfYouMadeHimPourSomeDrinks…. Geumseo shook his body with a shudder, shedding the non-existent labels, and went to the end of the hallway, standing with his back to the security guard. His pockets felt cumbersome. When he emptied the little pocket on his vest and his pants pockets, crumpled bills and coins came out. Geumseo’s pockets were used like a piggy bank from a stationery store.

“How much is this….”

The customers had put in orange-colored money, not to mention green, without hesitation. Geumseo’s eyes went round. So that was why the kitchen staff wanted to do serving so badly. The labels that would be forgotten if he just shook them off were quickly erased from his mind. The security guard spoke towards Geumseo, who was hunched over behind him, smoothing out each crumpled one and organizing them again.

“Everyone knows you’re getting tips, so you don’t have to hide like a little chipmunk like that.”

Little rat. Geumseo was called that here too. Of course, just little rat and little chipmunk were different.

∞ ∞ ∞

The loan sharks met him every week. Turning over the money was once a month. The reason they met every week was to confirm he was staying put and hadn’t run away.

Go Unha had paid the loan sharks back on his behalf, but he didn’t meet Geumseo every week. If Geumseo didn’t contact him, it was hard to meet even once a month.

‘Just do an automatic transfer, Geumseo-ya.’

The kind Go Unha had said that, but Geumseo stubbornly insisted that he had grown accustomed to this method and it put his mind at ease. That was because meeting the Misters every week, getting slapped in the cheek once a month, and being treated to meat had been Geumseo’s routine for two years. He had never wished for meat from Go Unha, and he was perfectly satisfied with just a stroke on the head instead of a slap on the cheek, but Unha always bought him a meal.

“Geumseo is diligent.”