The Fog Horn (Angae Godong) - Chapter 11

The village head, headed towards the lighthouse with Nuri. People had scurried away until there was not a single ant around.

He put Nuri inside the lighthouse and lit a cigarette outside for a long time. Nuri held onto the potato tightly and looked at his feet, like someone who was being punished.

The glitter was slowly fading. He entered the lighthouse, carrying with him the smell of tobacco and the foul odour of the sea.

Nuri felt like real filth had entered his space. Something black, thick, and noxious, like the coal tar he was going to use to patch the roof tomorrow. Nuri reflexively avoided his gaze.

“Your memories are back?”

“Yes…….”

“So you remember that bastard too?”

His voice was old and gruff. He also sounded angry about something. The bastard. Was he talking about the guest? Nuri shook his head quickly.

“All I remember is Cheol Woong pushing me.”

“That can’t be. You must have remembered his face, every inch of that monster.”

His voice was angry. Nuri lifted his head to look at the village head, piercing through his fear, then spoke as if he didn’t understand.

“The monster?”

“…… Don’t you know?”

Nuri’s heart was trembling, but he smiled as if nothing was wrong. It was the first lie Nuri had learned to tell in the midst of so much scorn.

It was now something he used frequently and knew how to pull off discreetly. Such situations had become common for him. Nuri smiled.

“There are no monsters in the world, village head.”

With a foolish expression, he acted as if he didn’t understand what he was saying at all.

Village head looked at Nuri in disbelief, then exhaled. His previously stiff expression softened a little, but Nuri still didn’t let his guard down.

“If you remember something, you must tell me. There’s no point in playing tricks. You know that.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, but okay, I’ll tell you if I remember anything.”

As Nuri said that, the village head suddenly dropped something. It was a bundle of banknotes, rolled up into a circle and shaped like a circular column.

The color of the notes was blue, and Nuri’s eyes widened. He knew that people handed over money like this when giving bribes in rural areas. But he had no reason to receive such a bribe.

“What is this village head?”

“I have not always been at ease with the way your legs looked when you two were bickering. Put it away.”

With that, he left the lighthouse. The bundle of money rolled across the floor and landed on Nuri’s cheap slippers. The money rolled up like a kimbap. It was a lot of money for Nuri.

This must mean take this and don’t talk about this anymore.

Nuri had no intention of talking about it anymore, even if he didn’t receive any money. No one in the village would listen to him anyway. Nuri put the money in the potato wrapping cloth and left the lighthouse.

The bright sky was beginning to slowly cloud over. Ason was right. Nuri hurried home before the rain started to fall.

It should have felt much lighter than when he carried six potatoes, but for some reason, the wrapping cloth felt heavy and solid as if filled with stones.

Nuri felt like coal tar was running through his fingers as he clutched the cloth tightly. Something thick and dirty. It felt like it was going to stain it. But he couldn’t throw the money away.

He could vividly feel the limp in his legs with every step. And he had been feeling it for over a decade.

Nuri held back the tears that threatened to fall.

Suddenly, he longed to see the stars, the ones that dotted the ocean. And the clear eyes that looked at him at the same time.

Nuri thought if he met the guest, he would definitely tell him this story. He felt as if sharing this sticky, ugly feeling with him would make it go away.

At least he wouldn’t have to carry it alone. He would do that. Nuri squeezed the corners of his eyes tighter.

The tears in the corners of his eyes sparkled like stars.

* * *

The next day, true to Ason’s words, it rained heavily. It was foggy rain. Nuri thought it might be dangerous to go out. He was also tempted to stay home as Ason had requested. However, this time, Oh Sung-jin came to his house.

“Nuri, what are you doing? Everyone is getting ready to leave.”

“Hyung, the weather is so bad…….”

“We have to go out today because we didn’t yesterday. Whatever happens today, we’ll be fine. We did the same thing last time.”

Sung-jin wasn’t wrong. Last time, they had all come back before the fog came, and they’d all been almost all right. So much so that they were all drinking heavily. Nuri reluctantly got up. He didn’t want to, but he had no choice.

Nuri grabbed a couple of onigiri, round balls of grilled meat, and started walking. The dock was as crowded as Oh had said.

Everyone was wearing raincoats and boots and eagerly preparing to set sail. Nuri tried to move quickly through the crowd, but unlike yesterday, people started talking to him one by one.

“Nuri, are you going? Take care.”

“Yes? Okay.”

“Nuri, let’s do some house work tomorrow morning. Can you help?”

“Sure.”

Everyone’s expressions were warm and relaxed. The tense, stiff, and watchful faces were nowhere to be found.

If this was rural hospitality, Nuri thought, it was nauseating.

Nuri walked faster, and this time Ko Cheol-woong appeared in full force. In his hand was a heavy black plastic bag. He held it out to Nuri without saying a word.

“What is this?”

“Don’t you have any eyes? Open it.”

Nuri accepted it with a gloomy expression. Inside the black bag were four ripe peaches.

“I washed them, so they’re good to eat.”

“Thank you.”

Nuri thanked him reflexively. As usual, Ko Cheol-woong climbed back onto the boat with his lips pursed. The villagers smiled wryly, as if Ko Cheol Woong’s formal apology process was over.

There were only four peaches. The price of his crippled leg he could never escape for the rest of his life.

The bundle of money the village head had given him yesterday, and four peaches. That was the price Ko Cheol Woong paid for confining a part of Nuri’s body forever.

And that was the price he was forced to pay for being discovered, as there was no choice.

Nuri tightly clutched the black bag tightly. He missed the guest. It was too lonely here.

People’s behaviour was deceitful enough to make a plot float [1] , and the villagers’ laughter could not hide the undeniable sense of gloom.

He had only met Ason for a short time, but he was sincere. Even if he had broken his other leg, he would have been sincere in his apology.

Nuri didn’t need peaches or money. A simple apology was all he needed. However, neither the village head nor Ko Cheol Woong offered such words.

As Nuri moved away from the villagers and got closer to the lighthouse, his steps slowed down. On the contrary, the raindrops grew thicker.

Strangely, there were no bird droppings near the lighthouse. Nuri stood still by the lighthouse and looked out at the sea, where the fog was rising.

The weather seemed a bit chilly. Nuri absentmindedly rubbed his arms. Was it cold or his loneliness?

He couldn’t tell the difference and clutched the plastic bag tighter. The sea breeze was blowing fiercely. Nuri’s damp hair fluttered along with the salty mist.

Today was a day without the guest.

* * *

1. The expression refers to the idea that a pot made of clay is heavy and should sink in water, but if it floats, it indicates that it is filled with air and is not what it appears to be on the surface. So, the expression implies that someone or something is deceitful to an extreme degree.