IEM Ch 2

The alleyway at midday on a weekday was extremely peaceful.

Wonjin’s spirits were high, thanks to the pedals turning smoothly for once. He firmly pushed his feet into his almost-falling-off slippers and gradually increased his speed.

Since everyone had gone to work or school, most of the residents he encountered were elderly people with white hair.

Wonjin slowly made his rounds through the neighborhood, starting his afternoon routine as usual. He observed the stationery store owner relaxing and playing GoStop on his phone after closing up shop for the morning and passed by the elderly playing Go on the bench in front of the supermarket.

The quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of Gyeonggi-do exuded a somewhat dull atmosphere. Only clusters of weeds sprouting along the edges of the uneven pavement and the occasional laughter of customers gathered at the hair salon added a sporadic touch of vitality to the alley.

“Haven’t seen you around for a few days?”

The man stretching near the entrance of his shop spotted Wonjin and greeted him warmly. It was Kim Donggun, the owner of ‘Le Bon Bakery’, the only bakery in the neighborhood. As someone who researched and made desserts, he always had a protruding belly, and a pleasant aroma of flour wafted around him.

Wonjin recalled a time when they had shared a few bottles of makgeolli while listening to Donggun’s story of how he had worked as a pastry chef at a famous hotel in Seoul for a long time before returning to his hometown of Pyeongju.

Wonjin leisurely applied the brakes.

“Good afternoon. I was away on some business.”

“Business?”

Donggun tilted his head in surprise, then beckoned him over.

“I was a little worried when I didn’t see you around. Come in. I have some freshly baked bread, take some.”

“No, thank you. You’ll have nothing to eat if you keep giving me bread every time I see you.”

“Hey, what’s with the formalities? I wouldn’t have opened this bakery in Pyeongju if I wasn’t confident. It’s not for you, it’s for Jeongyi, so take it.”

Glancing up at the bakery sign, Donggun strode into the shop. There was no time for Wonjin to refuse. He reluctantly parked his bicycle near the entrance and followed him.

“Honestly… What kind of bread is it? The one you gave me last time was sweet and delicious.”

“Muffins? The ones that just came out are walnut pies, but take some muffins too.”

“Ah, it’s okay, it’s okay. Just give Jeongyi one that’s a bit squished and can’t be sold.”

A hearty laugh emanated from Donggun, who was walking ahead.

The two men’s meaningless back-and-forth continued for a while. The glory of victory went to Mr. Kim Donggun. A bag filled with bread was thrust into Wonjin’s arms.

“No, sir, it’s too much.”

Wonjin was practically shoved out of the shop by Mr. Kim, who even wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead in the brief moment he pushed him.

“Go on, go on. I told you, it’s yesterday’s leftovers. You’re so stubborn.”

Last fall, Mr. Kim Donggun almost lost his youngest daughter. A truck coming down the steep alley hadn’t seen his daughter playing in front of the shop and had kept speeding up.

By the time Mr. Kim, pale with fear, ran out, it was too late. The truck passed right in front of where his daughter had been, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The dust settled quickly.

As Mr. Kim collapsed, his legs giving way, Wonjin stood before him, holding his youngest daughter. Wonjin’s bicycle, which he usually rode around the neighborhood, lay discarded like trash in the distance. The sound of the bicycle chain and wheels spinning with terrifying force that day was a sound Mr. Kim thought he would never forget.

“Anyway, I’ll enjoy it, sir. I’ll tell Jeongyi to buy lots of your bread. Salute.”

Wonjin hung the bag of bread on his bicycle handlebar and started pedaling again.

He spent his time slowly looking around the neighborhood. Until that moment, Cheonmok 1-dong remained peaceful, with nothing out of the ordinary happening. He even helped an elderly person pulling a cart of collected waste paper. He also shared some of the bread with a few residents who greeted him.

“Oh dear.”

Finally arriving at the intersection where Cheonmok-dong’s elementary, middle, and high schools were located side by side, Wonjin witnessed a horrifying scene.

He had been stopped by the owner of the snack bar in front of the school and was about to get a free fish cake. Just as he was about to take a bite of the steaming fish cake, he detected an unpleasant smell wafting around his nose. It was the bitter smell of cigarettes.

Wonjin stopped eating and silently peeked into the alley right next to the snack bar, lifting the awning slightly.

“Oh dear, how…”

The snack bar owner stopped stirring the tteokbokki with her spatula and glanced at him. Wonjin, with a worried frown, looked back at her and finally took a bite of the fish cake.

“Those kids… Ow, hot! Do they do this often?”

“No, no. Just once in a while recently… You haven’t been around for a few days either, Wonjin.”

“Just the high schoolers? Middle schoolers too?”

Wonjin diligently chewed on the fish cake. Every time he spoke with his muffled pronunciation, hot breath escaped from between his lips. The snack bar owner subtly shook her head as she covered a disposable plastic bag over a green plastic bowl. Her voice was cautious as she answered.

“It seems like only the high schoolers come out briefly during lunch break.”

Wonjin quickly stopped her as she was about to put tteokbokki into the bowl. He shoved the remaining fish cake into his mouth and tossed the skewer onto the table.

“No, no. Don’t bother, I’m full.”

“Why? Have some more. I’ll pack some sundae and fried food with it. You can eat it at home with your mom and Jeongyi.”

“No thanks. I need to finish all this bread before it goes bad.”

Wonjin stopped the owner, who was busy preparing the takeaway container. He quickly rinsed his mouth with the fish cake broth and wiped his mouth with a tissue. When the owner still looked regretful and seemed about to pack something, he rummaged through the bread bag and pulled out a cream puff.

“Payment for the fish cake.”

Despite the owner’s protests, Wonjin forced the bread into her hand and slipped out from under the awning.

As he wheeled his bicycle out, the bell signaling the end of lunch break rang from somewhere in the school across the street. Wonjin glanced back briefly with an indifferent expression and then turned his head. He didn’t even have to walk a few steps. He kicked down the side stand with his foot and parked his bicycle right in the middle of the dead-end alley.

“Out.”

All eyes turned towards the short command at once. Three male students huddled together, smoking, stopped their movements. Their expressions seemed to stiffen slightly.

Wonjin, whose eyesight wasn’t that great, didn’t see their expressions, or perhaps didn’t even bother to, and strode into the alley.

“Put out your cigarettes, students.”

Only when he was close enough to see the cigarette embers clearly did Wonjin’s eyes narrow. He clicked his tongue inwardly, looking at their outdated school uniforms, the same as his own alma mater.

The students, who had been nonchalantly smoking, involuntarily stepped back. Even in their school uniforms, they were three large male students. But as if unconcerned, Wonjin approached them without hesitation, causing the students to instinctively feel threatened by his quilted jacket.

“Who…”

One of the students, exchanging glances with the others, broke the silence. Instead of answering, Wonjin took a step closer for each step they retreated.

In an instant, the student whose jacket collar Wonjin had grabbed was pulled towards him. He checked their name tags one by one, veins bulging on the back of his hands.

“Well, well. A blue name tag? Not even a 3rd year, a 2nd year enjoying a post-meal smoke.”

“……”

“You little punks… You know Joo Jae-hee, right? Your PE teacher. He’s my friend. What do you want to do? Should I call him right now and have him take you all away?”

Wonjin was fully prepared to launch into a full-fledged lecture. As he scratched his itchy philtrum, a gray cloud of smoke suddenly drifted across his face.

The student furthest from Wonjin flicked the remaining embers off his cigarette with his fingers. Unlike the other two students who were held by their collars by Wonjin and exchanging glances, this student stood alone with a defiant posture.

“We were just about to leave anyway. Sorry.”

Wonjin slowly opened his eyes, which he had closed to avoid the smoke. His blurry vision cleared. He stared at the dirty alley wall, the cigarette butts that bounced off the wall and rolled on the ground, the ember that had fallen off and was slowly turning to ash, and finally, the student.

“This is why…”

His playful tone had completely disappeared. Wonjin had turned cold. He lightly slapped the cheek of the student who had spat. It was more of a touch than a slap, but the student’s head snapped to the side.

The sudden action brought silence.

Only Wonjin could break the silence.

“I can’t stop patrolling.”