Start Again

Chapter Forty

Joon Soo

"Oh shit!" I heard an English voice say, yet the person's face was blurry. Where was I? I tried looking around, but everything was fuzzy. I looked down at my own hands, which were in focus. Was this a memory? Was I dreaming a memory.

Automatically, I bent down and helped the person pick up their things, handing them some object.

"Thank you," said the voice in English again. This time I could make out a woman's tone.

"It is good," I replied.

"Oh! I mean gamsahamnida," she said in Korean.

Suddenly the scene vanished before me, and my vision sharpened as the figure retreated in the distance. Casual clothes. Long locks of red hair. Pale skin. Suitcase wheeling behind her.

My eyes flew open to the dark hospital room. I was alone in my bed, a machine beeping by me. There was no one I could quiz about my memory. Who was that? Why did they seem so important? Why did my heart ache when she walked away?

*

Over the next week the doctors put me under numerous machines and through a number of tests, seeing how much memory I had retained.

"What was the last thing you remember?" the doctor asked me. "How do you think you got in here?"

My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to bring my last memory to the surface. "It had been a few months since Min Ho died."

"That's my other son," my mother filled in.

"I can't remember where I was going, but I remember I was driving somewhere. Maybe I crashed the car then?"

"It's 2017, Park Joon Soo," the doctor informed me.

My eyes widened. "What?"

They did multiple scans on my brain and found some swelling, but no serious damage was done. They believed my memory loss was temporary and should restore soon. I was informed to warn people not to tell me anything I should remember, otherwise the doctors wouldn't know if I made progress.

For the first week, I went home with my parents. Baek Hu came by a couple of times. He began talking of a time I didn't remember, and when I mentioned I didn't, he'd immediately stop talking.

However, whilst the confusion was difficult, the worst part was that I couldn't shake the look of that Western girl from my head. She looked at me as if I should know her. Where could I have met her? Did we meet in university years ago? I didn't remember any foreign students in my classes. I tried asking my mother, father, and Ji Soo, but they all looked at me with sad eyes and shrugged.

A week after my hospital release, I received a phone call from a real-estate agent, claiming I haven't paid this month's rent.

"Eomeoni?" I called out through the house.

She emerged from the kitchen. "What?"

"Do I rent somewhere?"

Her body became rigid and she avoided eye contact. "Yes, kind of. But I'll sort it. Don't worry."

"What's wrong?"

"Um... nothing. Did you need something from there?"

"They were just saying my rent hasn't been paid."

"Okay. Well, pay it. But don't go there, okay?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

*

That night I had another memory dream, so I thought. They were different from other dreams. They were more vivid. And they were also blurry. And there was always the same voice.

This time, a sunny day appeared and I was walking between a nest of buildings and crowd of people. I looked over and saw someone sitting under a tree. I approached the person.

"So we meet again," I said. The person looked at me, and something about that made me concerned. I knelt down and said, "hey, it's okay. Whatever is bothering you will go away. Things get better, I promise."

They began to cry heavily.

The dream continued as I comforted this person. Eventually they stopped and I asked them how they were feeling. "I know something else must be bothering you," I said, "as you always seem sad when we've met, but for future reference, try to not cry when someone smiles. They will think they have an ugly smile."

"I'm sorry," it was the same woman's voice as before. "You don't have an ugly smile at all. In fact, it's really warming. It's just that it was the first time someone smiled at me in over a week."

We continued talking and I invited the girl to a tour around Seoul.

"I don't even know you. Any wouldn't you like to give the ticket to someone else?" she said.

"No. Considering the timing and your situation, I think you were supposed to come with me," I responded. "Anyway, where are my manners? Jeoneun Park Joon Soo imnida."

"I'm Au—"

I sat up in my bed, wide awake, and grabbed my phone. Daylight was just streaming in.

I sent a text to Baek Hu, asking if we could meet today.

*

Baek Hu and I sat across from each other in a quiet café during the middle of the day. I stared at him quizzically whilst he looked around.

"I'm forgetting something important, aren't I?" I asked him.

"In a way..."

"I know you're not supposed to answer any questions, but some things I need to know. Do I have a job?"

He nodded. "Your mother explained to them the situation already."

"Where do I work?"

"Can't say. You need to remember yourself."

"Is it in journalism? I feel like it is."

"Yes."

"Am I journalist?"

"Are you?"

I closed my eyes and tried to recall the vague images I had of a newsroom. "I think I have an office. So I'm high up?"

Baek Hu nodded.

"What do you know about my apartment? Why did I move out of home?"

"You had your own money so you wanted to leave." Baek Hu's voice was really high-pitched as he said those words. He had a habit of talking in a squeaky voice when he was lying.

"Who was that girl?"

"What girl?"

"The one with the red hair."

"Which one?"

"She's in my dreams. Her voice seems so familiar. Yet everything is always so blurry. It's like I'm watching it underwater."

Baek Hu sighed. "I really can't tell you, Joon Soo. Your mother ordered me not to and, as you know, she's very scary. Look, if you really want to know, you can either focus on getting better and remembering, or... investigate. Use your journalism skills."