The archives

Jake Park: Exile of the Kingdom

Jake bites his lower lip with the thought of chowing down on a rack of ribs — smoking, charred, succulent ribs. He shakes his head and returns his focus to the moment... to the wild hog he's been tracking through the woods all morning and afternoon. But he can't get the thoughts out of his mind. He's never had such a hard time keeping his focus. When he's not thinking about food he's thinking about the past, about home, about the argument. Seems like it happened so long ago. The argument started on Friday and by Monday morning, he was out on his own, exiled from the only life he knew for disobedience. But it wasn't disobedience. Not to Jake. To Jake it was a need. No. It was more than a need. It was a longing... a profound longing to know where he came from and why his father never talked about him.

"But you didn't have to push him so hard, did you?"

"I did. I had to. I had to because I had the right to know who he was. Don't you see? I have an emptiness inside me that no money or thing can fill. Yet... he never told me anything about him... he just distracted himself with the business and all the trappings of a superficial life and —"

"Raising you, Jake! Raising his boys!"

Jake stares past trampled grass and he hears his mother's voice resounding through his head.

"Jake... please... you are expecting a straight thing, and no straight thing has ever been made. Your father isn't perfect, and everything he's done is to give you a better life than he had. He has his reasons."

"And I have mine!"

Jake closes his eyes. He remembers leaving home without saying goodbye. He remembers backpacking across Korea, meeting people who had known his grandfather and could tell him stories about how he had lived. And none of the stories he had been told justified burying the past the way his father had done. He had expected his grandfather to be an abusive, deadbeat and yet... he had discovered a hero... a legend even. He had saved and reunited so many families and so many were grateful and indebted and still... he never mentioned him.

"Maybe he didn't want a legend, Jake. Maybe he wanted something else. But why does it matter? Why does it matter right now?"

A voice of caution suddenly brings Jake back to the moment. His grandfather's voice or what he thinks his grandfather would have sounded like. "Jake... stop thinking about everything else except what you need to think about. You need to eat before you begin to see things that aren't there. You've been at it all morning and afternoon with that make-shift spear, and if you don't get the hog you'll end up like me."

Jake nods with a slight respectful bow as he examines the freshly trampled grass.

Jake charges after the boar as it zigzags through the long grass and suddenly disappears near the creek. Panting, he slows to a jog, searching left and right. He's hiding. Hiding like the letter his father hid in the attic. Don't lose your focus, Jake... not now... not again...

"I don't understand why he would hide such a beautiful letter in a shoebox?"

"Ah, yes... the letter. It's the letter that set you off on your journey. It's the letter that inspired you to learn your father's language properly."

"You wanted to translate it for yourself, and you did. But now, Jake, you need to stop thinking about the letter, about your father, about the past... you need to focus on the hunt or none of it will matter anymore. Find food or become food."

Jake winces. His grandfather would never say such a thing. That's something his father would say. The voices in his head are mixing like a horrible stew of fermenting leftovers. He doesn't remember when he started hearing the voices but at some point out on his own in the mountains, he realised he was talking to himself and that talking to himself helped him cope with the loneliness.