A Futile Warning
It was ten past five in the afternoon. Though he was ten minutes late for the counseling session, Cha Gil-ho offered no remark. He simply carried on with the work before him in quiet composure—seated at the desk, selecting one of the neatly aligned fountain pens, opening his notebook, and beginning to write. Scratch, scratch. Each time the nib parted the paper, it made a pleasing sound. Baek Gaon’s heart, of course, was nowhere near as calm as Cha Gil-ho’s.
“So a seizure occurred yesterday. The child who never left her room came all the way out to the stairs on her own.”
“Yes.”
Scratch, scratch.
“When you went into the room, there was a dead rat. She insists she didn’t do it, but the doll’s clothes were a mess of blood.”
His voice as he sorted through the disjointed account Gaon had given him was utterly unruffled.
“I’m not even sure it was blood. I threw those clothes out right away.”
Cha Gil-ho stared at Gaon for a moment, then returned to his notes. Scratch, scratch.
Should she have added that Gayoung had seized after seeing Cha Taekyung? Gaon hesitated, then kept her mouth shut. Saying that the thing the girl feared seemed to be his nephew—and that she called him a devil—would bring them no advantage. Right now she wanted to emphasize not that Gayoung was the abnormal one, but that the nephew on their side seemed rather strange.
Cha Taekyung’s cold face as he had firmly rejected Gaon’s proposal rose again in her mind.
While Gaon, at a loss for words, stared blankly at the man, Cha Taekyung had cradled a porcelain flowerpot with care and vanished from the clearing. Watching that tall, lean back, she had not even thought to call him back—too stunned, too speechless.
“How about trying a change of medication? The drugs she’s on now appear to be olanzapine, haloperidol, and lorazepam.”
Cha Gil-ho diagnosed as he slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Sweat kept making them slip.
Cha Taekyung wore glasses too.
Yet the impression was entirely different. If Cha Gil-ho came across as soft and oversensitive, Cha Taekyung—how to put it—had delicate features that the glasses only sharpened into something colder and more intellectual. That was why most people, faced with such a decisive refusal, would have folded and accepted it. The face itself was intimidating. Perhaps that was how he had acquired such a tactless, rude personality disorder.
Gaon was turning the earlier scene over and over, trying to understand his behavior from every angle. Of course it did little good.
“Haloperidol can cause movement disorders as a side effect, and olanzapine may bring a sense of lethargy. Is there any lethargy? Emotions going dull, that sort of thing?”
Cha Gil-ho looked across at Gaon through his lenses. Did Gayoung feel lethargic? Gaon struggled to focus on the session and groped for memories of the child.
“Well… I don’t know about lethargy, but I had already decided the medication needed changing. Seizures that hadn’t happened for months started up again recently, and she’s been saying strange things…”
“Benzodiazepines are strong for a thirteen-year-old. The previous doctor must have been a little too enthusiastic. These are adult dosages.”
Cha Gil-ho’s calm gaze examined Gaon closely.
“Maybe so… He said adjusting the dose would be fine.”
Gaon nodded, recalling the fifth doctor who had insisted they all leave the island.
“I’ll rewrite the prescription. If I send it by boat today, it should arrive tomorrow or the day after.”
The fountain pen glided smoothly. The session was ending without friction. Perhaps he was a doctor she could actually talk to. If not for that strange nephew, there would have been nothing to take issue with. He was changing the prescription on his own before Gaon even had to explain why—how grateful she ought to be.
Unfortunately, Gaon was in the position of having to throw a stone into this smooth consultation.
“Your nephew, Doctor. Cha Taekyung.”
At the abrupt topic, the fountain pen that had been moving so fluidly stopped cold.
Gaon, who had been watching the tip of the pen, looked up at the man. Cha Gil-ho remained frozen exactly as he had been while writing.
“What kind of person is he?”
“……Why do you ask?”
Cha Gil-ho picked up the handkerchief lying on the desk and wiped his sweat. His forehead had gone damp at once, as if he had been asked something awkward. He still would not meet Gaon’s eyes.
“It’s just—I ran into him in the garden a moment ago… Gayoung is such a sensitive child, so it would be good if we were careful with each other. I suggested we set fixed times for using the garden. Wandering around inside the mansion is fine; she hardly ever leaves her room anyway. Yesterday was an exception, of course. The point is, from her room you can see the garden perfectly clearly. A stranger could have a bad effect on her, or the change in environment itself might frighten her. As the owner of the house, isn’t this something I’m allowed to propose?”
Gaon explained the situation in a quiet, even tone. She was neither emotional nor rude. She was certain of that. All she wanted was for Cha Gil-ho to put a word of restraint to his thoughtless nephew.
“I-I see.”
But Cha Gil-ho’s reaction went far beyond anything Gaon had expected. He scrubbed frantically at the sweat that welled up as if from an inexhaustible spring. The handkerchief was soaked through in moments. The hand gripping the fountain pen trembled. His face had gone deathly pale. His gaze darted from the paper to Gaon and then wandered aimlessly across the desk.
“Doctor…”
He looked terrified. Gaon found herself replaying her own tone, wondering whether she had browbeaten him or threatened to fire him. Even if she had, Cha Gil-ho’s reaction felt excessive.
“I-I’ll speak to him so he’ll be careful. That boy is… a bit peculiar.”
The man looked ready to faint at any second. Before Gaon could even ask, “Doctor, are you all right?”, Cha Gil-ho shot up from his seat.
“W-we’ll end today’s session here. May I go to my room first?”
Before Gaon could nod, Cha Gil-ho vanished into his own room beside the counseling office. The emotions that had flickered across the face she glimpsed were fear, worry, and… terror, all tangled together.
Does he have some illness besides hyperhidrosis?
Cha Gil-ho’s reaction had been strange enough that Gaon entertained the thought.
Did I say something wrong?
Had she done or said anything that would drive him into terror? No matter how she turned it over, nothing came to mind.
Cha Taekyung.
Or was it that Cha Gil-ho simply dreaded the man’s very existence? The only topic they had discussed was Cha Taekyung, and from the moment that name left her lips, Cha Gil-ho had gone strange.
The last possibility was so absurd that Gaon let out a short laugh. An uncle afraid of his own nephew? Then why on earth had he gone to the trouble of bringing that nephew all the way to Baekam Island?
Still, he said he would speak to Cha Taekyung, so I suppose I’ve achieved my purpose.
However bizarre Cha Gil-ho’s reaction had been, Gaon was satisfied if Cha Taekyung could be made to recognize even a little of his position and circumstances. If she could not get through to that strange man herself, it was enough to let him know she possessed the stubborn persistence to warn his guardian. Whatever the world’s common sense might be, on Baekam Island he would have to follow her rules, and she intended to make it clear as many times as necessary that in this mansion Gayoung was the most important person.
And the next day, Gaon learned exactly how futile and pathetic her warning had been.
It was a rare bright day. The damp earth had dried firm, and the long, trailing shadows of the pines, thanks to the glittering sunlight, looked more picturesque than gloomy. Gaon was heading for the counseling room as usual when she witnessed the scene from the second-floor corridor.
It was the moment she drew back the thick curtains, just in case Gayoung might come out as far as the hallway. Spotting what the unfamiliar man was doing in the clearing, Gaon doubted her own eyes.
The next instant she was racing down the stairs, trembling with rage. She stepped wrong on a creaking board and the wooden staircase shrieked, but she paid it no mind.
“Cha Taekyung!”
Gaon burst out into the garden in a single rush and called the man’s name at the top of her voice.
The Baek Gaon who, no matter how outrageous the situation, always tried to resolve things as rationally and calmly as possible was gone. She could not remember the last time she had been this angry in years.
The man turned his head with deliberate slowness. Just as she had seen from the second floor, a white cigarette hung slanted between his lips.
Looking at Baek Gaon as she gasped for breath, Cha Taekyung raised an eyebrow.
The expression said, What is it? Not the slightest awareness that he had done anything wrong.
“What on earth… that cigarette…”
Gaon opened her mouth in fits and starts. Then she bit down hard on her lip. It was so outrageous that the words came out wrong.
Stay calm. Be rational. Sort out right and wrong with a clear head. She dragged in a breath. Losing her temper here would solve nothing. In a much quieter voice, Gaon opened her mouth again.