Blood Soju
“The taste of blood in my mouth again”.
“The taste of blood in my mouth again,” thinks Mr. Park as he navigates through the ever-lively streets of Seoul. He feels the urge of drinking bubbling up with the Seoul nightlife sprouting smell of soju around him. He goes straight to one of the pojangmacha and orders soju with kimchi.
“What is the point of going home? No one is waiting for me at home. To offer me a warm hug, a welcoming smile, and some homemade food maybe.”
He starts chugging alcohol straight from the bottle, not even bothering to look at the glass brought to him.
“How many days has it been now? Has it been months? When was the last time I went home? Will I only return home once I find my wife and kid?”
He shuts out all of this with some soju. Trying to drown sorrows with a bottle, is the oldest remedy known to men. Nervously, he bites into the kimchi while his mind tries to figure out what is happening.
He bites his tongue, mixing blood with the fermented flavors. He finds this taste disgusting yet it is some kind of a déjà vu. What is this déjà vu?
Disgusted that he was unable to find his family? Disgusted for the times he failed to maintain a perfect family? Disgusted that her wife has decided not to return from his in-laws?
A voicemail notification, the beep makes him snap back to reality. Here it is, the sound I have been dreading the most these days, and yet, “I have been waiting for you.” Fear engulfs him as he stares at the screen, it’s him. He clutches the phone with his sweaty hands.
He slowly brings the phone to his already ringing ear, scared to hear that voice again, shivering with anticipation.
“Did you miss me, old man? I know you have been waiting for me. Do not bother calling me, you know that I will not talk with you. Tell me, do you miss your family? Have you still not figured out who I am? You must be going insane. We grew up together. And now I have taken your family.”
An evil laugh was followed by heavy breathing. As soon as he hears the beep at the end of the voicemail, he sprints out in the hope that maybe he can escape this hell.
There is only one place he can go now, where he can drink until the sun comes up again. Where he will be able to talk, without bothering her too much because she won’t be listening.
He staggers his way through the red light district. Each step was familiar to him. He doesn’t need directions because it is a habit now, a muscle memory. He pays her upfront, throws his office bag to the corner, and lights a cigarette.
She pays no heed to him, going back to scrolling on her phone. Scrolling aimlessly from the post after post, judging, and liking and commenting.
“Are you going to give me what I want today?”
He murmurs it like a daily prayer, barely audible. Without even looking up from the blinding screen, “you know the rules, you get what you pay for.” He exhales the smoke through his nostrils, “Do you think this is some kind of a joke? I have not seen them in I don’t know how long.”
She lights her cigarette. “None of my business! You pay me and I tell you where are they and who they went with.”
Mr. Park gets up to find the ashtray but starts walking towards her, “You think I am some lunatic? Do you think you can play around with me? You are just a low-life, sucking up my money like all these bitches here. Screw you.”
As he is walking out, “Fine, go then. You were the one who told me about him. He was here, you know! He told me all about your wife and the kid. He probably knew more than you. In a way, he was no different than you. I recognized his voice in the voicemails you keep playing like a playlist of your favorite artist. Go on then, fuck off. You know, you will be back, loser!” Another one of the evil laugh again that he cannot stand.
Mr. Park is back again in the streets, drunk people happily going around, or maybe just pretending to be happy. When you have paid so much for your cocktails, you have to act happy at least. He decides to just wait out tonight until she comes out and to follow her.
“She must have plotted all of these with him. She takes my money but still hides his identity. They must be lovers. Yes, that’s it. How have I missed this? I need my family back and she is the only one with information.”
“Should have listened to the doctor. Nothing to do out here while I wait, so might just call the doctor and see if I can make an appointment. But what is the name of the doctor, only if could remember the name?”
She came out, with her hoodie on and a cigarette in hand. “Of course, go on out, spend the money I have been throwing at you. “Tonight I will follow you and then I will kill you both if you don’t tell me where my family is.” He zig-zags behind her, trying to hide from her while not losing the trail.
“What? Where did she go? Why is everyone dressed the same way these days? What does her face look like? I have only seen her in the red hue light. Ah yes, there you are. Tonight I will have my peace, either I get back my family or I send you both to a place that is below the earth.”
Another notification sound. “No, must be one of these younglings and their obsession with phones.” But he feels a vibration in his pocket. He tries to get the phone out while chasing her, trying not to lose sight. It’s him again, another message.
“Maybe he wants to meet me finally. Maybe he changed his mind, maybe I finally hug my child today. Maybe he saw me chasing her. He is around.”
He presses the play button, “Your wife is sleeping peacefully here next to me. Do you want me to wake her up? And little champ, he has not moved from his sleep for hours now. Hey, tell me something, did you not buy perfume for her ever? She is smelling horrible tonight.”
He stops abruptly, he can’t breathe again. He wants to puke, but he feels he will pass out on the street. “No, he is playing games with me. He knows I am onto her, I will not stop. Fuck, where did she go? Yes, there she is, she went to that shop.”
He slams open the door of the shop and gets blinded by the heavy LED lights, the computers, the TV screens, the phones, and some pop song playing on a speaker loudly. He looks around, “where are you? You cannot hide anymore.” But the shop is empty, that cannot be.
“Mister, did you see a woman walking in just now? With a black hoodie on? A cigarette in hand?”
The guy looks at him suspiciously, eyeing him from top to bottom. “Been drinking, Mister? There is no one here and no one has been for hours. The business has been bad, mister! Why don’t I show you something? Maybe you need a new computer? A new phone? We have all kinds of services.”
Mr. Park stops abruptly, “No, I do not want to buy any damn toys of yours. Where is the girl?” Feeling that he has been mistaken, he makes his way toward the door, to not lose her. Just then, “Mr. Park, isn’t it? Are you Mr. Park?”
Mr. Park’s head takes a 360 turn, “That’s it. It is him. He is trying to save her, distracting me. How does he know my name? He is even smiling at me, look at the audacity, that evil smile again.”
He grabs the shop owner by the throat, squeezing it as hard as he can, “Tell me right now where is my family. Tell me where did you take my wife? Is she in love with you? Have you hurt my kid? Answer me, you scum.”
The shopkeeper feels the air squeezing out of his lungs, he tries to speak but the words are coming out in broken sentences now.
“Aren’t you…… Mr. Park? I remember…. remember you because last week you came here… yes, you came… in the middle of the night. You bought…err mmm… a new phone and a new number from me. I remember you…. because nobody had ever asked me before how to schedule leaving a voicemail on someone’s phone.”