Cover of Kim Ji-yeon's "Words Without Heart," which includes the short story “SAKUTEIKI” / Courtesy of Munhakdongne

Written by Kim Ji-yeon

Translated by Nohé Yeon

The Craft of Gardens

1

It wasn't me who wanted to go to Takeo. It was Wonjin. We met for a drink at the end of February when Wonjin signed her divorce papers, and we spontaneously booked flights for the holidays in May. Then we completely forgot about it. When the departure date was only a fortnight ahead, Wonjin started to urge me, saying that we needed to be planning for the travel. But I was so swamped with work at the time I just wanted Wonjin to decide everything on her own. She only agreed to do so as long as I promised that I wouldn't complain about her plans in any case, which I gladly said yes to.

The week before, Wonjin asked me on the phone.

“How can you not even ask where we are going?”

“We're going to Japan.”

“Where in Japan?”

“Kyushu.”

“Where in Kyushu?”

The names were getting smaller. Small names obliterate the bigger. Takeo was one of those small names. I hadn't even known that there was a place called Takeo on this planet, which was not unusual. There were a lot more names I did not know than names I knew, and I would likely go to my grave knowing only a handful of the names. So, it wasn't so surprising. I wondered though why she chose the place out of the many other small-name places. Wonjin said it was just all coincidence.

The day before, I was checking if I had missed anything in my luggage when Wonjin called me and said she could not go. She said her grandpa had just died. I rushed to the funeral home. After offering a flower, bowing my head to take a moment of silence for the deceased, and paying bujo*, I sat down with Wonjin in black over kkultteok. The funeral home was crowded with visitors flowing in, perhaps because Wonjin's grandpa had so many children. Wonjin said that she was really bored with nothing to do.

“They say he had a blessed life. What timing, though.” Wonjin said that she had never been close to her grandpa and didn't even know his age. Still, she made a comment that the late grandpa seemed to have lived a long enough life and to have done enough stuff, judging from what the relatives said. Being friends with Wonjin since middle school, I did not recall ever hearing her mention the word grandpa. I could imagine how distant their relationship had been. The death weighed heavy on my heart for a moment, but the boisterous mood and the bright faces of the mourners made it easy for me to forget about the death of someone I was not even related to.

“Everyone asks me why he's not here with me. They don't know that I'm divorced.”

Wonjin had married a guy she had dated in college, right after graduating, and in their five years of marriage they hadn't had a child. Neither Wonjin nor her husband had wanted one. Their marriage was so abrupt that their friends had speculated that Wonjin was pregnant and had chaffed them about it. But they eventually had stopped as the couple remained childless all those years.

“What did you say to that?”

“I said I was divorced. They make this dumb face when I tell them, and I kind of enjoy seeing it. It's for the better. I'll make use of it and let everyone know. Have you packed everything for the trip yet?”

I wondered how I had looked when Wonjin told me that she had signed her divorce papers. I had seen it coming sooner or later. Perhaps, deep down, I had even desired it to happen. Wonjin's husband would not find it so hard to get a job, but just hard to hold onto one. And with Wonjin's unstable income from working as a private tutor, it had never been easy to make their ends meet. Wonjin had often said that she wanted to be on her own. I had been a little surprised though when the word divorce actually came out of her mouth. However, I had exaggerated my surprise and said, “You did the right thing.” Then, Wonjin had said, “I do make a right choice when I have to,” or something like what she had said when announcing her unexpected marriage.

“Maybe I should cancel it, too. I don't feel like going alone.”

“Don't be silly. Just go.”

“I've never gone on a trip on my own, actually.”

“Well, that's good. Make this your first.”

“I'm a little scared. I don't know a single word in Japanese.”

“Stop being a coward and please just go. For me.”

Wonjin sent me the itinerary packed with to-do's that she had planned for herself for the three nights and four days via text message. It was so far from my kind of trip that, had we gone together, we would have come back separately. Since the hotel for the three nights was already booked, the overall schedule of the trip was likely to be the same. Yet, as it was now a solo trip for me, it was completely up to me whether to follow all the details on the list. Though, I couldn't let myself be completely free from Wonjin's ideas. It literally felt like I was going on the trip for her, and so I decided to follow her itinerary as closely as possible.

All in all, the trip was a total disaster. Wonjin's plans were not something I could possibly follow, and I could hardly sleep on the second night because there was an earthquake, which made me even more sluggish on the third day, the same day I lost my rental car in the afternoon.

* The money that a mourner presents to the bereaved family to help cover costs of the funeral.