Chapter 118

***

The special mission called “Family” (5)

***

There was no time to carve a new stick. These creatures can only be caught during low tide. The water will soon start to recede, so I can’t just sit around leisurely carving a club.

“Let’s borrow from Young-gu’s place. If it breaks, we’ll just make a new one.”

“Okay.”

I grabbed two large baskets and sat on the back of Jo Il-hun’s scooter.

Vroom, vroom, vroom.

The scooter, carrying two strong men including Jin-hyuk, struggled up the hill. As we reached the top of the slope, smelling the gasoline burned by the small single-cylinder engine, the village came into view.

‘Not much has changed.’

Except for the construction of waterways and lawns, Jin-hyuk’s hometown remained the same as when he used to play there as a child.

He occasionally visited his hometown by bus. It was during his middle school days when he missed his home, parents, Jang Gun-i, and Choi Mi-kyung’s family.

Back then, development had dug up the hills, including the one Jin-hyuk used to play on. The oak trees where he caught stag beetles in the summer, the chestnut trees where he gathered chestnuts in the fall, and the pine trees where he broke off dead branches in the winter all fell helplessly. The cool rock where he played war games with Mi-kyung, wearing a scarf, was shattered.

‘We even had water gun fights with bowls on our heads.’

But now, the hill Jin-hyuk loves, the reservoir, and the stream all exist as if time has stopped. Just as they always have.

‘It’s because Dad didn’t dig up the land.’

Son Kwang-yeon loved the scenery of Dunae-ri, where mountains, sea, and fields harmonized, and wished it would remain unchanged. That’s why he bought unproductive hills and refused to sell them.

It was astonishing how much influence one person could have on the world.

When we reached Yook Seong-chan’s house, I remembered the high-explosive bomb incident last fall. The gate of Yook Seong-chan’s house had been neatly repaired.

A unlicensed teenage Yook Seong-chan, with soot on his face from fixing his motorcycle, greeted us.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hey! You punk! What do you mean ‘sir’ when you haven’t even gone to the army yet!”

Jo Il-hun pretended to be angry and shouted.

Jo Il-hun was a troublemaker who messed up the village’s family tree. Most men called him “hyung” because he was older, but Jo Il-hun, emphasizing his bachelor status, forced their sons and daughters to call him “hyung” or “oppa.”

“Ah, Il-hun hyung, what brings you here so early?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Go get that jewel-like stick from Kwang-i.”

“Ah, to catch clams? Just a second.”

Watching Yook Seong-chan’s back, Jin-hyuk fell into thought.

Even Dad calls Jo Il-hun “hyung.” But Jo Il-hun demanded the same from Jin-hyuk as he did from Yook Seong-chan.

‘So, is Dad my father or my little hyung?’

It was a question with a clear answer, but it was a dilemma any village kid might have.

The best choice was not to attach any title to Jo Il-hun, the family tree disruptor.

For Jin-hyuk, who prefers straightforward conversations, it was easy.

“Is Seong-chan’s uncle not going clam hunting today?”

At Jin-hyuk’s question, Jo Il-hun’s face twisted in annoyance.

Jo Il-hun then whispered in a low voice.

“Yeong-gu tied them up yesterday. That guy’s useless now.”

“Ah.”

Then we shouldn’t push it, right?

But does it hurt a lot?

Yook Seong-chan, always cheerful, came out swinging the clam stick like a club.

“Is the class president going clam hunting too?”

“Yeah.”

“The class president will do well. Everyone does well.”

Yook Seong-chan, now in the same class as Jin-hyuk after the new year, wiped his nose.

Even in the second year of middle school, just like in elementary school, friends seemed more comfortable calling Jin-huk “class president” or “chairman.”

‘It wasn’t like this in my past life. Am I acting too much like an old man?’

Even Jo Seol-chan is like that.

He enjoys being called “captain” instead of his name. Jin-hyuk thinks it’s because his friends find it hard to address him directly, and a bitter smile spreads across his face.

***

Plop! Plop!

Jo Il-hun poked holes while following the receding seawater.

He truly lived up to his nickname “Dr. Quick.” He was knowledgeable in theory and skilled in practice. Every time he pulled out the stick he had poked in, a clam appeared at the entrance of the hole.

Even Jin-hyuk, who rarely shows emotion, was impressed.

“Wow! That’s amazing.”

“If you’re born a man magnet, you have to poke like this to succeed.”

It was a statement that made Jin-hyuk feel a bit inferior, but what nonsense is that between two bachelors? Jin-hyuk suppressed his frustration and focused on understanding the working principle.

‘You block it tightly and then apply reverse pressure.’

Jin-hyuk has a knack for analyzing objects and phenomena. Figuring out a simple working principle was a piece of cake.

Splash! A stream of water shot up.

It reminded him of the manual pump in the yard when they lived in a mud house.

“This is what the hole looks like. Even if you find the hole, it’s behind. When these guys breathe, you hear a squishy sound, so if you go where the sound is, you’ll see the hole.”

“Okay.”

“Now you try. Let’s have a contest with this guy.”

“A contest?”

Ah, I don’t like contests.

But since he’s a grateful person, Jin-hyuk swallowed his words.

Jo Il-hun chuckled.

“Whoever catches less loses.”

Of course. Is there a contest where the one who catches more loses?

“But what’s the prize?”

“You call me hyung.”

Jo Il-hun’s eyes lit up.

Behind his round personality, he hid sharpness, and he had noticed that Jin-hyuk struggled with calling him “hyung.” Still, what’s the big deal about calling someone “hyung” that you’d make a contest out of it?

But for Jin-hyuk, it was an offer he couldn’t refuse. Calling someone “hyung” isn’t that hard.

Jo Il-hun must have thought he would win, so he made that bet.

“Alright! Ready, set, go!”

Jo Il-hun shouted enthusiastically.

Jin-hyuk followed Jo Il-hun’s instructions, inserting the jewel-like stick into the hole and pulling it out quickly. When pushing in, twist it slowly, and when pulling out, do it in one go!

Squish! Splash!

Squish! Squish! Squish!

Plop! Plop! Splash!

Clams shot up everywhere from the tidal flat. The creatures flipped over on the mud, struggling, and were caught by Jin-hyuk’s hands and put into the large basket.

‘What the?’

Jo Il-hun’s jaw dropped at the sight. It was as if someone was throwing the clams up from the tidal flat. What the? Is that a crab hole?

Splash! A crab flew up.

Watching the middle school student poke holes without covering them, Jo Il-hun felt like he had met the wrong opponent.

‘This damn thing… Does he look like someone who calls me hyung?’

Jo Il-hun hurriedly started searching for holes. The holes that were clearly visible had all disappeared, and he muttered in despair.

Hee-hee-hee.

Is this the fighting spirit of a second-year middle schooler? Jin-hyuk couldn’t help but smirk.

‘Just wait, I won’t call you hyung.’

I’ll announce in the village hall that you’re someone who doesn’t keep promises.

Jin-hyuk transferred half of the clams from the large basket to the net and started poking the stick again with enthusiasm.

Plop! Plop! Squish! Splash!

***

Rumble, rumble, rumble.

No matter how busy, Son Kwang-yeon, who insists on farming the family’s food himself, drove the cultivator. Yoo Jin, holding a persimmon, sat on her dad’s lap, enjoying the vibration. The moist, soft brown soil crumbled beautifully under the medium-sized cultivator’s heat.

“Why did you come out?”

Son Kwang-yeon, who had just finished plowing the field, looked at Han Yu-young with concern.

His pregnant wife was fumbling with gloves.

“I want to plant too. Moving around is good for health.”

“Okay. Take it easy and go slow.”

Han Yu-young picked out small stones and buried seed potatoes one by one, half-buried in ash.

“I want to plant too.”

Yoo Jin had started calling herself “I” instead of her name. Her questioning tone was also disappearing, as if her ego was gradually forming.

Yoo Jin clumsily followed her mom’s actions, and Son Kwang-yeon silently followed, properly planting what his daughter had buried haphazardly.

Jang Gun-i and Hong-shi also dug the ground with their snouts. It seemed like they were imitating what humans were doing, but why dogs dig with their snouts instead of their front paws had been a mystery for years.

Son Kwang-yeon called Jang Gun-i, who had dirt on his nose and whiskers.

“Jang Gun-i, why are you digging with your nose?”

Because you’re digging like that, Hong-shi is copying you.

Woof.

What are you saying…

Even Son Kwang-yeon, an intellectual and a Seoul man, couldn’t understand dog language. Jae-young’s dog, when its leash came off, dug up all the straw covering the garlic field, but Jang Gun-i doesn’t run off with the planted potatoes, so maybe he’s a dog with some farming sense.

“Digging with your nose keeps the dirt from running away.”

At Yoo Jin’s translation, Son Kwang-yeon and Han Yu-young’s eyes widened simultaneously. Could our daughter really understand dog talk?

But seeing their daughter squinting and smiling, the couple couldn’t help but chuckle.

At six years old, their daughter was finally developing a sense of humor.

‘Jin-hyuk also said a lot of nonsense at that age.’

When Jin-hyuk was seven, he used to say outrageous things like peeling off the sky’s shell at the top of Gubong Mountain to reveal a dark space. He even said there were net-like lines on the sky’s shell.

It must have been inspired by the globe he saw in a book.

Son Kwang-yeon watched Jang Gun-i and Hong-shi digging in the same position until their black noses turned brown.

‘The dirt doesn’t fly around.’

The soil moved smoothly, not flying around crazily like when they dug with their front paws. The sight of dirt on the dogs’ noses and snouts always made him laugh.

As he chuckled, Jang Jin-nam, a muscular man in a short-sleeved shirt and apron, appeared.

“Boss, can I help?”

“Sure. It’s good to work together.”

He had told SSS not to bother helping, but since it’s food we’ll all eat, it’s okay to lend a hand.

Thinking that, he also nodded to Min Yong-rak, who had followed Jang Jin-nam.

“But I don’t see Jin-hyuk.”

“He went to the sea without eating breakfast.”

“The sea?”

At Jang Jin-nam’s question, Han Yu-young, who was listening, scratched her cheek with a dirt-covered hand.

“I think he went because I said I wanted to eat clams. Sorry.”

A student who only rests on Sundays, going to do unfamiliar tidal work for his mom—it’s only natural to feel sorry. Han Yu-young swallowed her saliva, imagining steamed clams, seasoned clams, and fried clams. It was the influence of her innate pig-like instincts, separate from her guilt.

***

The potato field was so large that planting potatoes wasn’t finished until lunchtime.

Thanks to Jin-hyuk and Jo Il-hun returning from the sea and helping, it was completed by morning.

“Ah, just coat them in flour and fry them, right?”

“Yes. The chef is skilled, so it’ll be even more delicious.”

Jang Jin-nam received the clam recipe from Han Yu-young. He nodded without taking notes, and his eyes sparkled each time, as if he had a photographic memory.

Min Yong-rak thought the recipe was stored in Jang Jin-nam’s muscles. Yesterday, he ate a side dish of crabs seasoned with chili powder and other spices, given by a neighborhood aunt, and it was so delicious he almost cried.

“Wow, you caught a lot.”

Son Kwang-yeon looked into the large basket and net with amazement. Every year around this time, he was too busy preparing for farming to go to the sea, so he had never caught clams or seen live ones before.

“Jin-hyuk, let’s go again when your dad isn’t busy. The clams are at their best this season.”

“Sure, hyung. It’ll be fun.”

Even picking up tiny clams on the tidal flat is enjoyable.

A childlike smile appeared on Son Kwang-yeon’s face.

“You two must have caught a thousand together. Oh my, I’m dying.”

Jo Il-hun, with his characteristic exaggeration, patted his shoulder. Jo Il-hun had struggled with the stick to avoid losing the contest with Jin-hyuk. As a result, his body ached, and the sky looked yellow.

Jin-hyuk smiled happily and showed everyone the harvest.

“Let’s share with Mi-kyung’s family too. It’d be great if the uncles cook it.”

“Sure. Good job. Let’s wash up and have lunch.”

Lunch was decided to be steamed clams and kimchi stew with lots of pork.

Jo Il-hun left to wash up at home and bring back some makgeolli.

Then, meeting Jin-hyuk’s eyes, he said in a creeping voice.

“I’ll be back, hyung.”

Sure.

Jin-hyuk muttered in an even smaller voice.

With his hands behind his back and blinking his eyes, he looked exactly like an old man.