*cricket sound*
x]
T.R.A.N.S.C.E.N.D.E.N.T.
--2--
…44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50.
He pushed his body up quickly for the 50th time and halted on his fully stretched arms, staring at the wooden floor, stray strands of slightly damp jet-black hair covering his eyes. He was breathing slowly and considering whether he should go for another 50. Most probably not. It was 7.30 in the morning and he couldn’t allow himself to be late for his first class. His, or more likely, his mother’s apartment was close to the main alley of the city and the university was about half an hour walk away, but he wanted to take his time.
He turned over and sat on the floor, ruffling his hair. He didn’t bother using a hairdryer, but he did slop a good amount of mousse all over his scalp a few minutes ago. His father would have winced at such negligence, but Jintae knew this would work enough for him, and as long as his hair doesn’t lie deflated, he’s fine with it. Mousse was the price he had to pay for not having a buzz cut. It was either gel and 3 cm or mousse and 7 cm. And since with gel he would have looked squeaky clean, Jintae opted for long bangs and strands which covered his ears. When his father first saw this new image, he was delightfully thrilled to see that his son looked almost identical to Mr. Kim when he was around the boy’s age; and so on the occasion Jintae even received earrings with Chinese inscriptions of his name and his father then declared enthusiastically “Now we Match~!!”. His mother just had slapped her forehead and chuckled silently.
There was a distinct classic ring and Jintae got up from the floor looking for his black Morph. He found it on a small table in the living-room, wrapped the slim strip around his wrist and touched the sensory plate. His speakers across the room clicked when the Bluetooth signal reached them.
“
Klausau?” Jintae said absent-mindedly, not looking at the caller’s ID and stretching vigorously.
“Annyeong, Jintae-ya~” sang out a husky voice, which he knew to the marrow.
“Abeoji,” Jintae stopped stretching and looked around alarmed as if his father could see him.
“Ey, why can’t I see you?” his father asked in such manner that Jintae could swear he was pouting.
“I have the camera turned off,” Jintae explained and sighed. His father was the biggest video call maniac ever. He had to see EVERYTHING.
“Hmm…” Mr. Kim hemmed in a weird tone.
“What’s up, abeoji?” Jintae knew he had to cut to the chase, because otherwise it would have taken years for his father to get to the point. His father loved talking.
“Just wanted to wish you luck on your first day at university^^”
Jintae cocked an eyebrow. He sometimes allowed himself to indulge in this blasphemous thought that his mental age was a lot more numerous than his father’s.
“Dad,” he ruffled his hair again, walking around in the living-room. “Put mom on the phone.”
“Yah, adeura, lemme see you!” his father said in imperative intonation, and Jintae could already imagine him waving a huge dipper.
“I’ve applied mousse already, no worries,” Jintae rolled his eyes, still ruffling his hair and heading towards to the wide-screen TV just in case.
“Oh? For real? That’s my boy~!” Mr. Kim released a throaty exclamation. “Lemme see!”
“Dad, I’m not dressed.”
“Oh, come on! As if you’d have something that I don’t!”
The boy knew his father could go on like this forever, so he grabbed the remote control and turned on both, the TV and a camera, attached at the top of the wide screen. At the other end Mr. Kim saw his son with nothing but white baggy pajama pants on. Jintae, on the other hand, almost choked with laughter as his father appeared on the big wide screen seriously holding a dipper. He was looking at the camera in an angle which made his eyes look extremely big in his middle-aged face. He was wearing a black apron which corresponded with his short, slightly-gelled jet-black hair. That black hair was driving Jintae’s mother insane although Jintae himself suspected his father was secretly concealing whatever amount of the grey hair he had.
Mr. Kim grinned.
“Ai-ya, see? I told you,” he pointed at the camera with the dipper. “Absolutely identical pectorals. No moobies,” he put his free left hand to his heart and closed his eyes, smiling rather dorkily for a 49-year-old. “Of course… this man’s genes here… are perfect.”
Jintae wanted to snort, but he ended up smiling like an idiot. He put his hands on his waist and tossed his hair, looking at his dad. Some things were hereditary indeed.
“Ooh and you’re wearing the earrings I’ve given you!” Mr. Kim’s eyes sparkled as he peered at the two silver Chinese characters dangling in his son’s ears, one stood for “JIN” (眞) and the other for “TAE” (態).
“Dad…”
“Kim Jinyeong, are you bugging your son again?” an upbeat voice interrupted their conversation and soon Mrs. Kim came into picture. It was unusual for a woman to take husband’s family name after the wedding in Korea, but Jintae’s mother decided it was for the best. Not to mention that her family name was impossible for Koreans to pronounce.
She was now standing at her husband’s side, lean and straight and womanly, with a simple jacket and trousers on, her shoulder-length hair dyed in a color of honey and her eyes laughing at some mischief that only she knew. If Jintae’s dad used to be an uljjang in his 20’s, then his mom was a pretty woman in her late 40’s. Not that his father looked bad now and not that his mother had been totally unappealing, when she was young, it’s just that she was one of those women, who looked absolutely stunning being middle-aged. Jintae frequently thought to himself that his mother was really what a woman’s supposed to be, and he didn’t care if a thought like that was a severe manifestation of Oedipus complex.
“I was just…”
“Your stew is climbing out of the pot already,” Mrs. Kim said looking at her husband kindly.
“Ho’sh1t!” Kim Jinyeong gasped and dashed away from the camera’s range to save his stew.
Jintae chuckled silently. Over the years he had learned to suppress his laughter most of the times, because the laughing manner was another thing he inherited from his dad and anyone who laughs like that soon because a laughing-stock for the others.
“You’re back to Gongju?” the boy asked switching to his mother’s language.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “We’re visiting your grandparents tonight. And tomorrow we’ll go to Gwanju to check on Jiho-oppa.”
The word “oppa” certainly sounded strange in the mouth of a middle-aged woman, not to mention that she wasn’t speaking in Korean, but Jang Jiho was his father’s long-time comrade, one of his best friends, and naturally his mother had a great respect for that man.
“Is ajusshi doing better?” the boy asked.
“Yeah. It was a nasty fall, but thankfully, nothing’s broken. He just got some really ugly bruises. But you know uncle Jiho; he’s the most stubborn creature on earth.”
“True… Listen, why on earth did he call me?” Jintae sat on the black sofa, painfully noticing that it was already ten minutes to eight.
“Ah, they’ve finally transferred you the money,” Mrs. Kim smiled. “I know you laid us under obligation to represent you in any matter concerning that issue, but they’d love to have you on the filming set, Jintae-ya.”
“I have classes, mama,” Jintae let out a tired sigh. “In fact, I’m having my Phonetics class in an hour and I’d better go, if I don’t want to show up at university in this state,” he visually demonstrated his current “state”.
“Weeeeell, I don’t think your group-mates would mind that much,” Mrs. Kim grinned. “And I’ll be sure to tell the studio that you consider your studies of the highest importance,” she added quickly once Jintae’s expression changed into a slightly annoyed one. “Who’s your Phonetics teacher?” she asked suddenly changing the topic.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It was on the timetable, but I didn’t really catch it… something about yelling or screaming or shouting…”
“Šauklienė*?”
“Uh? Yeah,” Jintae blinked. “How did you know?”
“Jesus, she was teaching me as well!” Mrs. Kim laughed. “Was very young at the time, but… I mean… now she should be somewhere around 60. But she’s cool,” she said quickly as Jintae’s face turned into a horrified one. “At least she used to be. Well, just be ready to answer lots of questions. Especially about your accent.”
“It’s barely noticeable,” Jintae said perplexed.
“Exactly. Just like I said, be ready for questions,” she nodded. “And you’re still planning to purchase that thing? Especially now that you’ve got the money.”
“Yeah, I’ve got the license already, and I don’t want a car yet, so yeah… and besides, there are a few sets of clothes for that in the closet, I bet dad would be thrilled if I wore them.”
“Speaking of which, what are ya gonna wear today?” Jinyeong returned after successfully saving his stew and stood next to his wife speaking in his adorable Chungnam accent.
“Uuh… I don’t know,” Jintae took a look around, as if in search for a savior. “I’m sure, I’ll find something in the closet…”
“Whu--? You haven’t prepared your outfit in advance?” Jinyeong suddenly had a long face. “One of the few good features that I have, and you didn’t even inherit that one!”
“Hey, at least I keep them folded, hung and clean,” Jintae grumbled.
“Right,” daddy folded his arms, grasping his chin with one hand. “What’s the weather outside?”
Jintae rolled his eyes, but went over to the window nevertheless to check the temperature.
“+15 C, sun is shining,” he said coming back. “I guess it would climb up to +25 C at the max. It’s September after all, will get nasty soon.”
“OK, listen closely,” Jinyeong narrowed his eyes. “Grab the Harley Davidson jumper…”
“The one which looks like dark tee + white jumper?” Jintae asked heading towards the closet. Its door was installed at the back wall of the living-room, so he was still in camera’s range.
“Yeah, and don’t forget the tight black jumper which is supposed to be worn underneath!!” Mr. Kim exclaimed when Jintae opened the closet and walked into it.
It was half the size of the living room, stocked with rows and shelves of pants, shirts, shoes, jackets, coats, jumpers, ties, gloves, beanies, scarves and other details of male wardrobe. The point of it was though, that Jintae’s personal belongings made up only 1/10 of the whole content. And most of that was underwear. When he first came to live here for a longer period of time, he didn’t bring many clothes, which he was happy about right now. He had had no idea, that his mother’s apartment was stocked with these old clothes, which once belonged to his father. And they had been worn maybe once or twice at the best. So what if they were old, this fashion was coming back.
The boy sighed and went along the rows of shirts to look for that Harley Davidson tee.
“And also take faint blue jeans!” his father was shouting. “Those pants go well with the light brown belt. The one which has yellow sun-like buckle!!”
“Aye~!” Jintae called back, already putting on the tight black jumper and heading towards the image of a motorcycle. Once he had Harley Davidson on, Jintae shook his head, noticing that his hair was already dry. When he pulled on the faint blue jeans and snatched the light brown belt, he went over to the accessories cupboard and pulled out the very same silver cross pendant he had been wearing yesterday, the watch and a thin bracelet of black and red beads on a beige string. He was sure his father was bound to recommend that one.
“And put on those blue boots!!”
“Hell no!!” Jintae emerged from the closet fully dressed, holding his black Converse sneakers in his hands. He was as white as a sheet. Or perhaps he was just naturally pale. Who knew.
“I’m not wearing those freaky stalkerish boots!” Jintae waved his sneaker at his dad. “I’m not U!”
“Stick to your Converse, Jintae-ya,” said his mother, eyeing him up and down. “You already look like his copy, preserve a bit of originality.”
“Hey, my clothes are good!” Jinyeong pouted. “And what’s wrong with him looking like me? He’s my son!”
“Your clothes are OK,” Jintae sighed and then smirked. “And I’m not his perfect copy. I don’t have eye-bags!” he poked out his tongue.
“Augh~!” Jinyeong faked a heart attack.
Mother and son rolled their eyes. She sniffed the air demonstrably.
“What’s that smell?” she asked not bothering to change into Korean.
Jinyeong sniffed too. His eyes widened.
“Ho’Sh1t~!! Bulgogi!!” he dashed away. Jintae slapped his forehead.
“Why did you marry him again?” he asked his mother.
She shrugged.
“Love’s blind,
sūna.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
FOOTNOTES
*
Morph - OK. Actually, the action of this fic takes place like... 30 years from now. Well, in not so distant future ^^;; And Morf is this really cute phone concept:
Morph Concept
Revolutionary Mobile Phone
*
Klausau - I'm listening, a.k.a. Hello a.k.a. Yeobuseyo
*
Abeoji - Father
*
Adeura = Adeul + a - Son
*
Ajusshi - Uncle
*
Šauklienė - made of a noun "šauklys" which is derived from a verb "šaukti" which means "to yell" xD
*
sūna - a very dialectal way of saying "son".