IMFOBO | CH 8 | Ms. Go’s Granddaughter

Ms. Go’s Granddaughter

 

Sunlight, filtered through the green leaves outside the window, slanted in.

Eun-cho finally breathed a sigh of relief after seeing her last patient out.

It was still a bit early to close up the clinic.

Throwing open the entrance door, she slumped into an old chair.

The fatigue of the day was considerable.

Stroking the back of the curled-up cat, she felt the exhaustion that had reached its limit melt away if only a little.

Feeling the soft, fluffy fur under her palm was her own form of comfort and rest.

It was a moment of leisure she could barely afford, thanks to Jeong-seok and Su-ji, who helped with the work.

“The days are getting longer.”

It was already nearly 7 PM in the summer, but far from setting, the surroundings were still bright.

The leaves of the tall trees lining the street deepened in color with the slanting sunlight.

A fresh, early summer scent rode on the breeze.

Eun-cho took a sip of licorice tea, a subtle sweetness lingering on her tongue.

A single cultivator leisurely crossed the town, which was as deserted as the clinic.

The town wasn’t much to speak of.

A small Chinese restaurant and a sundaegukbap place, a family practice for most ailments, and a pharmacy on the first floor. The post office is responsible for all the town’s deliveries. A tea room where ssanghwa tea was still the best-selling item, and a few other shops made up the whole of it.

A place where time flowed slowly.

Eun-cho cherished and loved this still, stagnant atmosphere.

She couldn’t find this kind of peace and quiet in the city, where everything changed from moment to moment with the shifting of the seasons.

Working and being overwhelmed was the same there as it was here. She wanted to protect her precious everyday life at all costs.

Exhausted from the sterile city life of Seoul, she received news that her grandmother had collapsed.

Without a second thought, Eun-cho came down to Cheongrim Village.

She wanted to stay by her grandmother’s side, even if only a little longer.

“Aigo, Doctor. Are you closed?”

“No, not yet. Come on in.”

A farmer, his skin deeply tanned by the sun, grinned at Eun-cho.

Climbing off his old bicycle, he kept kneading his shoulders.

Perhaps influenced by her grandmother, Eun-cho was naturally soft-hearted toward the elderly.

Besides, she worried about patients who couldn’t get treatment in time, even though she needed every penny.

“I need a needle. My shoulder blades keep aching. I’ve got this ticklish cough too.”

“I’ll prescribe you some medicine.”

“That, whatchamacallit, your grandfather, Doctor Go, was really good at prescribing cold medicine.”

Eun-cho had opened her clinic where her late grandfather had run a traditional medicine shop for many years.

What allowed Eun-cho to establish herself in the strongly clannish rural village was her title as “Doctor Go’s granddaughter.”

Even though she wasn’t born here, she’d grown up here since she was little, so everyone in town had watched Eun-cho grow.

“But isn’t it about time for you to close? Getting acupuncture takes a while. I think I came too late.”

“It’s alright, elder. Get your acupuncture and go. Bong-seon, could you get a hot pack ready?”

The small village clinic was always bustling.

People came to the clinic not only from Cheongrim Village, but also from the next village over, and the one after that.

Many of the elders in the area were engaged in farming or tea cultivation, and working the land and joint health were inseparable.

Besides, word had quietly spread that “Doctor Go’s granddaughter is pretty good with the needles,” so patients never stopped coming.

The more patients she saw, the harder Eun-cho worked, as if she were going to break.

The clinic’s income would have been enough if she only had to cover her grandmother’s hospital bills, but the problem was the debt that was snowballing.

Even when she wavered about giving up the old family home, she couldn’t bring herself to do it when she thought of her grandmother.

For Eun-cho, the old house was the only place that had taken her in after her father remarried and she had nowhere else to go.

“Eun-cho, let’s go home.”

At Su-ji’s words, Eun-cho gathered the rice cakes, potatoes, and sesame oil that were piled on the examination table and wrapped them in a cloth.

They were all treats given to her by the generous elders of the village.

“Here, let me carry that.”

Jeong-seok’s expression had been dark these last few days.

Eun-cho, and even Su-ji, were wary of him.

It seemed to be the aftermath of Ryu Tae-san stirring up trouble in Cheongrim Village.

“I’ll see you again.”

In fact, Ryu Tae-san had left a short greeting and hadn’t been heard from since.

Surely it had just been a meaningless pleasantry or a joke to tease people.

There was no reason to care, so why did he keep popping into her head?

“I’m going to visit Grandma. Go on ahead.”

“Cho-cho, I’ll make kimchi stew, so come early. Okay, honey?”

Su-ji winked, showing off her charms.

Please don’t put tomato ketchup or anything like that in the stew this time…

Ah, maybe I should eat dinner out before going home.

“Eun-cho, how about you stay with your grandmother for a few days? I’ll somehow cover things at the clinic.”

“Suddenly? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!”

Jeong-seok’s sudden suggestion felt unsettling.

If nothing was wrong, then why was his face so pale and his legs shaking like aspen leaves?

Come to think of it, Jeong-seok had dark circles under his eyes.

He probably hadn’t been sleeping well at night, and the way he kept biting his thumbnail suggested he was anxious, but he kept his mouth shut and wouldn’t open it.

“Did… did Ryu Tae-san contact you separately?”

“Are you acting strange on purpose?”

“Eun-cho, don’t forget the promise you made to me. Ever!”

The promise that he forced on her, saying never to get involved because he was toxic?

Ryu Tae-san was quiet, but Jeong-seok was being overly cautious.

“Do you think that man will come again?”

When she asked, trying her best to sound uninterested, Jeong-seok’s eyes widened.

He clutched the bundle tighter and glared menacingly at Eun-cho.

“Of course. He’s as persistent as they come! He can’t stand to let go of prey he’s marked once! I’m telling you!”

“I haven’t heard from him, so.”

“If you let your guard down, he’ll bite your neck off! What is this, Lee Eun-cho? Why are you taking an interest? Didn’t I say he was poison?”

Jeong-seok’s reaction, filled with such wariness, was unsettling.

Eun-cho waved her hand to cut off Jeong-seok’s nagging and quickly left the clinic.

She had only wrapped up a little rice cake to give to her grandmother.

“Hey! Just stay by your grandmother’s side and act cute! Get some rest for a few days! Okay? Until the weekend!”

Eun-cho, getting into her small compact car, waved her hand out the window.

It was a little over an hour’s drive to the university hospital in the nearby big city where her grandmother was hospitalized.

It had only been three days since she’d seen her, but she felt an unbearable urge to see her grandmother.

For her grandmother, who was now her only remaining family, she would do anything.

That was how much she feared and dreaded being alone.

* * *

“Grandma! I brought you mugwort rice cakes, the ones you like!”

“……”

It was too quiet beyond the curtain.

Her grandmother’s reaction was cold when she would normally shout, “My sweet puppy is here?” and pull her into a hug.

She was turned away from Eun-cho altogether, facing the wall.

“Is my grandma asleep?”

When Eun-cho touched her shoulder, her withered body tensed up.

With a sinking premonition, she carefully checked on her grandmother.

Her wrinkled face was streaked with tears.

“Grandma, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“What happened? Something happened to my sweet puppy. I should just die, just die. What good will I see, clinging to this stubborn life?”

Her grandmother’s voice was full of sobs.

It seemed someone had told her grandmother what had happened a few days ago.

The loan sharks had made such a commotion that it wasn’t strange for the news to have reached her grandmother, who was alone in the hospital.

People from Cheongrim Village often came to this hospital.

“Grandma, not again. Don’t say things that will make your granddaughter sad.”

“Hwa-ran even took out private loans, I heard. As if all the loans she took out weren’t enough. Aigo, that damned girl.”

Eventually, her grandmother sobbed, her shoulders shaking.

Eun-cho’s nose stung for no reason.

She wanted to pour her heart out to her grandmother and act like a child, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, thinking of how it would hurt her.

Seeing her grandmother, who couldn’t even look her in the eye because she felt so sorry, made her heart ache.

“Eun-cho, just get married. I can just get a small rented room and live there. So you get married…”

“How could I get married and leave Grandma behind?!”

Eun-cho snapped.

Her grandmother wiped her eyes repeatedly at her granddaughter’s scolding, unable to hide her despair.

She must be in so much physical pain from the tumor, and seeing her suffering so much mentally made her feel like she was burning up inside.

“Hwa-ran wasn’t such a bad girl. I raised my child wrong, raised her wrong.”

She knew that her grandmother would end up defending her aunt again.

Is that what children are like?

To her grandmother, even if she hated her aunt, she couldn’t just resent her.

Even though she cherished and loved her granddaughter so much, her mother and aunt, who had always left, came first.

The affection she gave her had certain limits.

So Eun-cho was sometimes curious and longed for the unconditional love of a parent.

Nevertheless, Eun-cho only had her grandmother.

No family to cling to, no one to pour her affection on.

“Are you Ms. Kang Soon-young’s guardian? The doctor in charge said he had something to discuss with you.”

Eun-cho’s heart sank at the nurse’s words.

She felt uneasy. As if someone was pushing her toward hell.