The Great Storyteller

Chapter 68: Chapter 68 - The Final Encounter (1)

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

There were birds chirping on a tree nearby.

Juho had sat on the grass. He took out some papers and a clear plastic underlay and set them on the uneven surface of a boulder. It was the perfect workstation.

He felt the coldness travelling up from the ground. An ant crawled by, and he reached down to feel the dirt on his hand. He felt the particles underneath his nails. It was a familiar feeling, and he had a good feeling that time.

He sat still as he thought of the given topics: gratitude for your teachers, traveling, and fall. He took quite some time thinking about them as he didn't find any of them all that appealing.

To be frank, there was something else that he really wanted to write. He had been anxious to finish his next book, and that was what he had really wanted.

He relaxed his body as he put down his pen. He was about to fall backward, but he didn't resist.

The open sky met him, and he felt the cool, refreshing air throughout his body. It almost felt like he was in water. He felt the other contestants staring, but he paid no attention.

His next book had taken its shape now. There was a young mother with her young child. The narrator of the story was the son at eighteen years old. The story began with the mother confessing her pregnancy to her child. Her son was suddenly going to have a brother. The only thing certain to the child was that they didn't have the same father.

Eighteen years old, it was an age closer to being an adult than a child. The narrator was neither pure like a child or as experienced as an adult.

He asked his mother as he learned about her pregnancy, "Were you happy to find out?"

"As happy as when I had you," the young mother answered with a smile.

The more her stomach bulged out, the more mature her son became. He was growing into an adult, and he smoked and drank with her.

He came to meet different kinds of people. As he experienced life, her stomach grew in size until it couldn't get any bigger. That was the end.

A wind blew and ruffled Juho's hair. Light shone brightly in between the leaves.

'I should visit her and ask again,' he thought. Then, he slowly closed his eyes.

'Bricks, telephone pole, hills.'

The place where he met the woman was filled with silence. There was no sound of crying or any sound for that matter. As he looked down from the hill, he felt a presence. It was her.

"Hello," she said with a slightly awkward enunciation.

"How you doin'?"

She was beautiful, but quite skinny. Her breasts and belly were showing through her white dress.

"So, that's what you look like," Juho said as he made eye contact with her bloodshot eyes.

She had two moles under her eye, thin lips and frail arms. That time, she had a vivid shape. She smiled, but only her eyes and lips moved slightly.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. Her red tongue became visible as she opened her mouth.

"I see that you're growing impatient. Why don't we take this a little slower?"

"I want to see the baby."

Juho looked at her belly. There was nothing aside from a small bit of fat on her lower belly. Whenever she breathed, her chest moved up and down.

"Should I call for your son?"

"No."

"Your son would be sad to hear your answer."

"It's OK. That kid is strong."

At those words, Juho nodded. She had never exercised self control in her life. Like a rock rolling down the hill, she couldn't stop herself. It had been the same way when she had become pregnant for the first time.

"My first drink was when I first made love to a man. My first smoke was when I first ditched a man."

"And you haven't stopped since."

"Yes. Still, my baby grew just fine. He was born into this world, and now, he's an adult. He's old enough to drink and smoke with me. He's a strong kid."

A breeze blew on her dress. Her short, stubby toes became visible.

"How come you came barefooted?"

"I didn't think I'd need to wear shoes."

"It's dangerous, you know."

"It's OK. I won't get hurt," she answered as she took a step forward. It all felt too dangerous. "Are you planning on killing me?"

Juho didn't answer. He hadn't decided yet. The end was before his eyes, and he had hesitated.

"I don't want you to die."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

He had been sincere in his answer. He really didn't want her to die.

"I want to," she answered as she dropped her head. There was a cliff. They were standing from a height where the bottom was no longer visible. "My child died."

Juho became angry at her calm tone of voice.

"But you knew that all along!"

"I did."

"You killed him!"

She looked back at him, and their eyes met. They were blaming one another.

"You're the one who let go!"

"No one came to save him."

"You didn't go after your baby."

"There was a person at the bottom of the hill."

"You said you were sick of it all."

She kept quiet. She looked down as she stood barefooted at the edge of the cliff.

"I miss my baby."

That time, a gust of wind blew her hair relentlessly.

"You won't be able to see him again."

"I made him wait too long."

"You won't find the baby down there."

She took another step forward. She was almost there.

"Will he forgive me?"

"He won't be able to. There's no ground for either of you to stand on."

Nothing could have stopped her. That was the kind of person she was. Finally, Juho called for her.

"You're going to regret your decision!"

She stopped in her tracks.

"He'll forgive me." She knew the outcome. After all, it was regret she'd been after.

The wind blew all the harder. Everything became fuzzy. The world started shaking. The wind blowing from below kept pulling her down as if it wanted to swallow her whole. Debris fell from the sky. The cliff started to crumble away. A streak of blood flowed down her legs, and her dress became soaked by the rain.

"He's a strong kid. He'll be fine."

Then, she threw herself down the cliff. Juho ran to grab her, but it was too late. He looked down from the cliff to see that she was nowhere to be found, and he was alone in a world that was falling apart.

"No, I'm not!" a voice came from behind him. "I'm not strong. You're a poor excuse of a mother."

Juho turned around. It was her son. He had been standing at a place not too far from the cliff. He didn't move a muscle.

"Are you crying?" Juho asked.

Instead of an answer, he looked up, his skinny face becoming visible.

"Are you going to?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm alone. There's no one left to listen to me crying."

Juho imitated the woman by standing at the edge of the cliff.

"I'll go too."

"Wait."

Before there was time to answer, Juho fell from the cliff. The son remained in his place until the end.

'That's all I wanted to see,' Juho thought as he closed his eyes.

"Wah, wah!"

He sat up at the sound of a crying baby in the distance. Over a big boulder, he saw a woman walking with her stroller. As he watched them walking away, he slowly picked up his pen.

He started writing. It had nothing to do with gratitude for your teachers, traveling, or the fall.

'I think I'll be able to finish this after all,' he thought as he smiled happily.

*

The contestants in the park each focused on their composition. While being mindful of the time and content, they were all writing busily.

From time to time, some kids took their eyes off of their papers to look at something else. Though it was on one of the many trails in the park, there wasn't anyone around. Perhaps it had to do with the boulders that surrounded the trail. Or, it could've been the boy who had been writing frantically on his paper on the boulder.

The kids were staring at him.

He was writing at an incredibly fast pace with a scowl on his face. It almost looked like he was writing out what he had memorized. Nothing seemed to get in his way. There was no wind either.

'What could he be writing?' one of the kids approached him from curiosity. As he walked toward him on the grass, the sound of the pen tapping restlessly on the surface of the boulder became more audible. It almost sounded like a fight. Maybe it was a game.

He stood behind the boy, but the boy showed no response. He was completely focused, and the kid felt his curiosity slowly turning into something different.

'I wish I could do that.'

He couldn't dare to imitate the boy. He was easily distracted by people approaching him, and he couldn't stand the curious look on people's faces as they walked past them.

None of the ideas in his head were substantial. Even they further lost their color as he wrote them out on paper.

But, the boy was different. He hadn't even realized that somebody was standing behind him. His paper was visible over his shoulders.

"Huh?"

It was strange. It didn't look like something that was suited for an essay contest. The story. The content. To stop him, he involuntarily walked toward the boy who was writing frantically and tried to grab his hand.

"You shouldn't do that, kid."

He jumped at the sound of a voice. Long, black hair. Graceful voice. Wrinkles around her eyes that reflected the time she had lived. She was in a white dress, and had a portable parasol in her hand and she opened her mouth slowly to say, "How about you go on writing your own paper?"

He thought the moment his eyes met with the woman's, 'She caught me! I got caught red-handed.'

Without saying anything, he walked away in a hurry.

She remained the only person standing next to Juho.

*

Juho didn't bother to think about anything else. His mind was filled with thoughts about the woman. It was all within his reach. The sound of the baby crying lingered in his ears. Nothing could have gotten in his way, even the ant crawling over his shoes, or the sound of leaves rustling.

As everything seemed to be going smoothly, his hand suddenly came to a halt.

"I'm out."

He had run out of space. He had used every bit of what he was given. There was still much more that he wanted to write, so he grew anxious from the seemingly unquenchable thirst.

'What did I have to do to get more paper? Oh yeah, I have to go to the headquarters with my student ID.' He got up in a hurry as he thought of his student ID in his pocket. Just as he was about to run, a person suddenly struck up a conversation.

"You seem like you need more paper."

"'Scuse me?"

"Would you like to use mine?"

After turning around, the first thing he saw was a white dress and her white parasol. She was smiling. The wrinkles around her eyes gave off a welcoming impression. In contrast to her age, she had her black hair tied into a ponytail. She'd been standing alone on the other side of the boulder while he'd kept writing, looking at his direction.

Juho realized that she had been looking at his composition. He hadn't caught it.

She waved, and the sheets in her hand waved along with her. An old lady with a stack of paper. Juho couldn't help but remember who that was.

"Yun Seo Baek. Mrs. Baek."