Episode 2: The Prize Money
Before heading home, I stopped by a small supermarket in the town center because I had a few things to buy.
There was a fairly large mart nearby called Hanmaeum Mart, but whenever I needed to pick up something simple, I always came to this supermarket.
Ring, ring.
When I opened the door and went inside, the sound of a ringing bell echoed, and upon hearing it, the sliding door inside the supermarket opened, and the owner uncle came out to greet me.
"Oh, Minu, you're here."
"Yes, Uncle. Have you been well?"
"Me? Well, it's the same as always."
Bak Yeongnam, the owner of Yongcheon Supermarket.
He had been friends with my father, and he had run this supermarket ever since I was young. I took a bottle of soju from a small refrigerator and went over to him.
When he saw the soju bottle, he looked at me with a worried expression.
"Are you planning to drink alone?"
"No. It's for my father."
At my words, Uncle took out a black plastic bag and put the soju inside for me.
And he said:
"Seeing this reminds me of your dad again... I should have given him less to drink..."
At his words, I smiled bitterly.
My father had passed away from liver cancer.
He had liked drinking to begin with, but after my mother passed away early, he seemed to have drunk even more.
Still, he never caused trouble or threw fits when he drank.
He tried to forget the longing for my mother and the hard farm work with a glass of alcohol, but in the end, his liver couldn't endure it and gave out.
I thought he was fine, but he must have been lonelier than I expected.
Father always came to this supermarket to buy alcohol, and he said the same thing when I saw Uncle at the funeral.
Even if they hadn't sold alcohol here, Father would have bought it somewhere else and drank. I told him it was okay, but it still seemed to weigh on his mind.
"You shouldn't drink. I hear cancer can be hereditary too."
"Yes, I don't drink."
I already didn't like alcohol because I hated hangovers.
Still, I used to have a drink or two with friends, but after Father passed away from liver cancer, I stopped drinking entirely.
"Well, that's a relief. By the way, where are you coming back from?"
I was wearing a shirt and neat cotton pants, and he asked, perhaps because I looked out of place in the countryside.
"Ah, I had some business in Seoul, so I went up for a bit."
"Really? What kind of business?"
"Uh... just to meet a friend."
I had gone to Seoul for business. Very big business—claiming lottery winnings, that is.
But I couldn't tell Uncle that.
"Nothing uncomfortable at home?"
"No, not yet."
"Right, returning to farming isn't easy. If anything is difficult, tell Uncle. I'll help with what I can."
"Yes, I understand. I'll get going now. I should go before it gets dark."
"Alright. Get home safe."
I came out of the store and got into the vehicle parked in front.
It was an old 1-ton truck, also inherited from my father.
In the countryside, a truck is almost essential for work.
Father said it occasionally acted up because it was old, but it wasn't to the point where I couldn't drive it.
I checked the time while driving, and it had already passed six o'clock.
Though the days were getting longer since it was spring, the sun was slowly sinking behind the mountain at six o'clock, so I hurried before it got darker.
I passed the sign marking the village entrance and drove a bit more. My house was quite a distance from the village center.
The elders I met after moving here said it must be lonely living apart, but I thought living somewhat separately wasn't so bad.
I was the only young person in the village, and because of the age gap, it wasn't exactly comfortable talking with the elders.
Driving further in, my house began to come into view, and I stopped the car in the field near the house.
It was about a thousand pyeong of land, the very land my father had passed down to me.
I took the soju and crossed the field, and right in the corner of the field were my parents' graves.
After Mother passed away, Father made a grave near the field.
Mother was originally an orphan, and he said she shouldn't be lonely even after death, so he laid her to rest in this field close to home.
I felt the same as Father, so when he passed away, I tried to make a grave beside Mother, but my friends opposed it at first.
They said managing a grave would be too difficult and suggested a columbarium instead, but I couldn't do that.
I had looked into columbariums, but the niches were so high up that I wouldn't be able to see my parents' faces, which was unpleasant.
Even the decent spots cost a lot of money and required waiting a long time, so I didn't like the idea.
Now that I've returned to farming, I can tend to the weeds and visit often, so in a way, making the grave seems to have been a good choice.
Still, I partially accepted my friends' advice and erected tombstones without making burial mounds. I knelt before them and took out the soju I had brought.
"Father, please drink just a little."
I poured soju into a paper cup and bowed to my parents, but I felt strange.
After sprinkling the soju from the cup around Father and Mother's tombstones, I sat between them.
The sun was slowly setting behind the mountain on the other side, and the red light gave the illusion that it was shining on me and my parents.
'It's been a while since I sat side by side like this.'
Lost in thought, I blankly stared at the light, then opened my phone.
And I ran the bank app. The account showed the money I possessed, but looking at the enormous number, it still didn't feel real that this was my money.
8,611,355,234.
8.6 billion won.
My first-place lottery prize.
****
The lottery ticket I found while sorting through my father's work clothes.
That piece of paper brought me tremendous fortune.
I burned the clothes he often wore after he passed away, and kept only the work clothes, intending to donate the ones that didn't fit well to collection bins.
Before donating, I checked the pockets for coins or such, and that's when I found the paper with the lottery numbers written on it.
2, 4, 7, 19, 38, 44.
Father passed away last October, and for over five months after his death, the lottery prize had remained unclaimed.
I nearly missed finding it, but no matter how I think about it, it seems like my parents' final gift for their son who was left alone in poor physical and mental health.
What was even more surprising was that there were only two winners this time. As a result, even after taxes, I received an enormous sum of 8.6 billion won.
I went straight to Seoul to claim the lottery prize.
The place where our village is located is Haenam, called the village at land's end.
It was quite a long journey—taking the truck to the town center, then bus and train—but my heart was light.
I was happy to receive the prize money, but at the same time, a little sad.
Many people say they keep lottery winnings a secret even from family, but I didn't have any family to tell in the first place.
The loneliness of being alone in this world. That is the cause of my anxiety, but now I must overcome it.
Before I knew it, the sun had completely set, and a cool air began to circulate around me. I got up and dusted off my bottom.
And looking at my parents' tombstones, I said:
"This is a gift from Dad and Mom because you were worried about me, right? I'll try to live an interesting life from now on. So don't worry too much."
***
When I returned home, the first thing that caught my eye was the old wooden porch.
The house seemed to be about thirty years old. This was the home where I lived after returning to farming.
I quietly sat on the wooden porch, leaning back against the pillar with my eyes closed. It was comfortable.
'Minu, come eat.'
Sitting quietly, I felt like I could hear Mother's voice. She passed away when I was ten, and now my memories have faded a lot, but the warm feeling of her calling me remained.
"The weather is nice."
I lay down on the wooden porch for a moment and looked at the night sky.
It was still cold, but spring was beginning.
Now it was completely dark, but the refreshing breeze tickled the bridge of my nose, and the cool air that I couldn't breathe in the city made my chest feel wide open.
"Whooo. The air is good."
Taking a deep breath, I felt my mind calm down, and it seemed the fatigue from my trip to Seoul was melting away.
Opening my eyes and looking at the sky, there were brightly shining stars—something else I couldn't see in the city.
I didn't know much about constellations, but looking at the twinkling stars, I felt something calming my heart.
As I rested feeling the wind and stars, suddenly a loud sound came from my stomach.
Gurgle.
Since dawn, I had been moving around frantically to claim the prize money.
I had rushed through lunch and hurried back, so my stomach couldn't endure the hunger and finally let out a loud noise.
"I need to eat."
I got up and went inside, standing in front of the refrigerator.
An old refrigerator.
It must have been more than fifteen years old, but I was amazed it still worked.
There were magnets on the refrigerator that I had bought during occasional trips, and I recalled that though Father was taciturn, he had been pleased because they were a gift from his son.
Staring at it for no reason made me feel strange, so I quickly opened the refrigerator door.
Wondering what to eat, something suddenly caught my eye.
It was a brown side dish container, and when I opened the lid, it was doenjang.
One of the village grandmothers had brought it, and opening the lid, it was homemade doenjang with the shape of the beans still intact.
"Right, let's make doenjang jjigae today."
I took out tofu, zucchini, and onion that I had placed on one side of the refrigerator.
I am thirty now.
When Mother passed away, I had to cook for myself, and while living away from Father alone in another city, I cooked a lot by myself.
I poured water into the pot and turned on the gas stove. Then I took out the cutting board and knife and started cutting the onion, and the sound of it being chopped into appropriate sizes was so pleasant.
Chop, chop, chop.
After cutting all the onions, I started cutting the zucchini this time.
Thunk, thunk, thunk.
This time the sound was a bit duller, and thinking about it, I used to wake up to this sound when I was young.
'Minu, you have to go to school.'
Mother would unfailingly call and wake me up when the sound of her trimming ingredients ended. I had forgotten, but cooking like this suddenly reminded me.
I had forgotten thoughts about Mother for a while—was it because Father passed away?
Or because I came back to the countryside?
Memories keep popping up like this.
Shaking my head to clear my mind, I took out the tofu this time.
After cutting the tofu into squares, I looked at the pot.
The water in the pot was starting to boil, and I scooped a handful of doenjang with a spoon and began dissolving it in the hot water.
The clear water was slowly turning brown, and this time I opened the refrigerator to find gochujang.
"Adding a bit of gochujang to doenjang jjigae makes it tasty."
I added the doenjang and gochujang, let it boil once, then put all the prepared ingredients into the pot. And shortly after, a pleasant sound began to echo through the kitchen.
Bubble, bubble.
The sound of the ingredients mingling and boiling echoed through the kitchen, and along with it, a rich savory aroma began to rise.
I dipped a spoon slightly to taste the stew.
"Ah, hot."
I nearly burned the roof of my mouth, but the stew I blew on and ate was so delicious that I forgot I had almost gotten hurt.
"Kuh, this is it."
I hadn't added any other seasoning, yet seeing how tasty it was made me think, as expected, it's countryside doenjang.
But I felt it would be a shame to eat rice with only doenjang jjigae.
"Should I make a fried egg too?"