The New Gardener
An unfamiliar scent clung to him as he stepped inside with his thanks. Whether his taste in cologne had shifted in the short time since I last saw him, I couldn’t say, but the reek was sharp enough to sting my nose and I didn’t care for it. Still, another person’s preferences were none of my business, so I only rubbed at my nose and let it go.
“Studying hard? I heard you’re prepping for the retake exams.”
“I’m not going to college.”
“Huh?”
Do Ha-jin turned to look at me.
“You have to go to college. Why wouldn’t you? Your dad already seems like he’s planning to hand the company over to you.”
I gave no answer and simply perched on the windowsill. Ha-jin stroked his own jaw and edged closer, little by little.
“Your mother’s death… it’s still hard, isn’t it?”
“…….”
“If Oppa had stayed in Korea, it would’ve been better.”
“What difference would that have made?”
“Well. You wouldn’t have been as lonely.”
His jeans brushed against my dangling legs. I glanced down at the contact for a moment, then lifted my head—only for him to cup my left cheek and begin gently rolling his thumb across the skin.
Our fathers had been tangled up in business for years; we’d known each other a long time. Even as children he had sometimes stroked my cheek like this, but the nuance was completely different now. His face was flushed, and he swallowed hard.
“Maybe not going to college would be better after all.”
“Why?”
“Guys your age are hopeless. You wouldn’t know, coming out of an all-girls school.”
“…….”
“A girl as innocent and pretty as you… it’s dangerous either way.”
Ha-jin’s hand slid past my shoulder and down my arm. I was wearing a sleeveless dress, so the warm flat of his palm pressed directly against bare skin.
“Oppa’s going to stay in Korea this summer.”
“…….”
“Want me to tutor you while I’m here?”
He stroked my arm as he asked, voice soft and coaxing.
“I told you I’m not going to college.”
“Then go to a women’s university.”
The answer was completely off the mark.
“I have no intention of taking over the company. I’m just going to live off Dad’s money until I die.”
Ha-jin laughed as if my childish declaration amused him, and finally withdrew his hand.
“Dinner should be ready. Let’s go.”
I slid obediently off the windowsill. He stuck close beside me, chattering about this and that; I let the words wash past until, without thinking, I brushed my palm once over the place on my forearm where he had touched me.
Come to think of it, this was the first time anyone had laid a hand on me since Mother died. Toward the end she had retreated so far into her own world that she barely paid me any attention at all.
The warmth after so long felt strange. I trailed my fingers down my own skin the way he had done, and left the room.
Through the hallway window a reddish sunset was seeping in.
The moment Ha-jin and his father left, Father brought up the subject of tutoring.
“Just take the lessons until Ha-jin leaves for America.”
“…….”
I had more or less expected it; Ha-jin had spent the entire meal selling himself to Father.
He said he was boarding a flight to the States on the last day of August. That left roughly two months. A few tutoring sessions in that span weren’t going to work any miracles with my grades, and I genuinely had no interest in college.
Still, I had no desire to bicker with Father over whether I would or wouldn’t, so I simply nodded and started up the stairs to the second floor.
“How long are you going to keep moping around like that?”
The displeased voice that clung to my back was just something I had to endure.
Back in Korea for the summer break, Do Ha-jin had a backlog of appointments, so we agreed to start tutoring in two weeks. I didn’t bother replying; I simply set the phone down. That was when a knock came—tok-tok.
Ten in the morning. Cleaning time. I checked the clock, then tipped the birth-control pill from the nightstand into my mouth.
I had started taking them after Mother died right in front of me and my period vanished for nearly half a year. Sometimes I still wondered whether it was really necessary to force a cycle like this. I swallowed the bitter tablet and opened the door. Standing there with her cleaning supplies was Hee-yeon unnie, the one in charge of the second floor.
“The weather’s really lovely today.”
She was one of the two live-in housekeepers; they stayed in the annex beside the garden.
“Why don’t you take a little walk in the yard later?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I gave a vague nod and stepped out, only for her to add,
“One of the gardeners quit in a hurry last week, so a new man is coming today.”
“Im Jeong-ho quit?”
“Yes. I just didn’t want you startled if you saw a stranger.”
She was a truly kind and thoughtful person. I nodded once more; she smiled gently and disappeared into my room.
I stared for a second at the half-open door, then headed downstairs. The other housekeeper, the older woman cleaning the first-floor living room, offered the same advice as Hee-yeon—said the weather was perfect and I should take a walk.
“A little sunlight will lift your spirits. Just one quick circuit.”
“Okay…”
I knew they fretted because I almost never went outside, so I managed an awkward smile and made for the front door. On days like this, stepping out for even a moment usually quieted the fussing.
I slipped on house slippers and opened the door. Just as they had said, it was a brilliantly clear early-summer day. I tipped my face up to the blue sky pouring warm sunlight, then lowered my gaze—and my eyes widened a fraction.
“…….”
Two men stood beside the stone statue.
One was the older groundskeeper who had tended our garden for years; I had probably seen him more often than I had seen Father. He wasn’t the reason I froze. The young man facing him looked familiar.
Where have I seen him before?
The man with his shirt sleeves rolled up said something, then raked his hair back. The black strands glittered under the sun; the white shirt shifted in careless folds.
The lazy lift and drop of his arm looked oddly graceful—and then I realized it was because he was handsome. Even from a distance the clean line running from forehead to bridge of nose to jaw was unmistakable. But who was he? Where had I seen him?
I stood gripping the doorknob, staring blankly, until the older groundskeeper sensed my gaze. He turned toward me with a good-natured smile.
“Ji-yul, out for a walk?”
Naturally the younger man’s face turned as well. For some reason the motion of him looking back seemed to take a very long time.
“Ah…”
The instant our eyes met, memories flickered through my head like a panorama. High school. The start of term. Seizure. Early dismissal. Wandering. The bongo van.
Before I knew it I had shut the door and stepped back inside. The older housekeeper, polishing a shelf in the living room, flinched at the bang and looked at me, but I barely registered her.
It was the man I had seen last year. The good-looking young man who had climbed out of that black bongo van.
But why?
Back then he had walked into a building with a sign that read Jeonryeong. A private security firm that was really just a gang of hired thugs. Why was a gangster standing in our garden right now? From the circumstances he had to be the new gardener Hee-yeon unnie had mentioned—but why on earth a gangster?
I couldn’t make sense of it. I tilted my head, then simply climbed the stairs. For some time now I had grown so restless around strangers that I consciously avoided them.
It was the same now. I thumped a fist lightly against my pounding heart. Strictly speaking I had seen him once before, yet a stranger was still a stranger.
I reached the second floor quickly and headed for my room—only for Hee-yeon unnie to pop out of the doorway.
“I’m not finished cleaning yet…”
She smiled apologetically. I glanced at her, then pointed to the guest room.
“I’ll wait in there.”
“Alright. I’ll wrap up as fast as I can.”
Leaving her to duck back inside, I stepped into the neighboring room. The guest suite was always ready for unexpected visitors—bed made, linens fresh, a simple table waiting. There were two more such rooms on the second floor and another downstairs, though they almost never saw their intended use.
Father was an orphan with no family on his side, and Mother’s relatives had cut all contact ever since he took over the company; we simply had no relatives who came to stay.
Still, Hee-yeon unnie always kept the guest rooms immaculate. I glanced at the perfectly smooth bedding, then walked to the window.
I parted the white curtains just enough to look down. The groundskeeper and the man were still standing there.
The man pointed at the statue and said something; the older man’s face grew solemn. They were probably talking about Mother.
The new gardener stood with one leg cocked, hand on his hip, looking down at the angel and the withered bouquet placed before it. Then, without warning, he started to turn his head in my direction, so I yanked the curtain shut and hid.
“…….”
I counted to ten in my head, then peeked through the gap again. The two of them were already walking toward the storage shed in the corner of the yard.
I had thought he looked tall even back then, but next to the slight groundskeeper he seemed enormous. It would take two of the older man stacked together to equal him.
But why was he here? Had he quit the gang? The question still hung unanswered when a knock sounded.
“All finished. I’ll head downstairs now.”
I didn’t answer, just watched the two men disappear into the shed, then finally left the guest room.
The first thing I did upon returning to my own room was open the gold jewelry box on the vanity. It had been Mother’s; filled with her accessories, it had come to me as a keepsake. I had ignored it so thoroughly that only recently had I noticed a few pieces were missing.
“…….”
Today, because I had come back upstairs midway, nothing had been taken. Not that it mattered…. I huffed a short laugh and turned a large ruby ring so the stone caught the light.
As full summer settled in, the temperature climbed day by day and the cicadas grew ferocious. Rain would have been a mercy, but the dry rainy season that had begun last year left the world nothing but heat.
If it had rained last year, would Mother have burned to death?
I deliberately cut off the useless chain of thought and perched on the windowsill.
Out in the blazing sun the two gardeners were pouring bottled water over their heads, sweat pouring off them. When it finally became unbearable, the older groundskeeper pointed toward the shade of a tree.
The gardeners’ hours had never changed: weekdays nine to three. Breaks were flexible, taken whenever needed; today that moment had arrived. I glanced at the clock—just past two in the afternoon.
The older man sat with his back against the trunk. The new man flopped down beside him and guzzled water in long gulps. Even from this distance I could see his throat working. Probably because he had unbuttoned his shirt all the way open.