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KAP 6
“Put it on my tab. I’ll settle up tomorrow.”
“Then send the money via Venmo! Why on earth would I give credit to a customer who just walked in for the first time today?”
Kora wanted to tell him to make another student pay, but when she looked around, the hockey players had already vanished.
Since everyone at Chatsworth knew him, it was unlikely he’d just dine and dash, but you never know with people.
“I also have the option of calling campus police if you leave without paying for your drinks!”
“Great idea. Then I might get disciplined and be barred from the next hockey game. I wouldn’t mind the rest, but you’ll be known across campus as the part-timer who ruined a hockey game over a few measly bucks by calling the cops.”
“.......”
“If you want to make your college life a lot harder, feel free to try it.”
He was obnoxious, but Tristan had a point.
“Sigh... I can’t even make him wash the dishes since that would be a health code violation.”
He let out a small smirk at that and, with a relaxed air, unbuckled the watch from his wrist and handed it over.
Startled, Kora took the watch. It was a heavy silver piece with a bezel that shimmered in blue.
“I’ll leave this as collateral. Sell it if you have to. It’s probably worth several times today’s total sales.”
Having abruptly said his piece, he turned to leave. Kora hurriedly grabbed his forearm.
“...What? Hey, Tristan! Stop right there!”
He stopped and flashed a mysterious smile.
“I never told you my name.”
“...Who in Chatsworth doesn’t know you?”
“I guess you’ve had some interest in me after all.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. For all I know, this watch could be a knock-off from Hong Kong. Pa-Patek Philippe? I don’t even know what brand this is.”
At those words, Tristan laughed lowly, as if he had heard a funny joke.
“Well, if it is, come find me and complain in person.”
“...What?”
“You know where I am.”
With a sly smirk, he turned and vanished from the pub.
Kora took a deep breath, feeling as if the energy had been drained from her entire body.
You know where I am.
The low voice echoing in her head felt like a dangerous invitation.
One week.
A full week had passed since then.
Despite that, Tristan Lockwood, who should have come to retrieve his watch long ago, was nowhere to be seen.
‘Is he kidding me?’
Kora opened the drawer under the counter and sighed as she looked at the watch sitting there like a white elephant.
It looked expensive at a glance. Was it merely a toy to Tristan Lockwood, something he didn't care about losing?
Just then, Kora’s phone rang. It was a call from her mother.
Kora spoke to Mr. Carlson, the bar owner, who was sitting at the bar table staring at his laptop screen.
“Mr. Carlson, may I step away for a moment to take a call?”
“Sure, of course.”
Once she had permission, Kora quickly stepped into the storage room and pulled out a hoodie she had kept in her bag. She zipped it all the way up to hide her uniform.
She wanted to hide the fact that she was working such a grueling part-time job from her mother as much as possible.
After clearing her throat, Kora pressed the call button, and her mother’s face appeared on the screen.
Across the screen, her mother looked exhausted, as if worn down by work, and spoke in Korean.
-
Su-hyun, what are you doing?
“Mm, I’m studying.”
-
Really? But why is it so dark around you?
“Oh, I’m in my dorm room. My roommate is sleeping, so I drew the curtains. Why did you call?”
-
Why? Because I wanted to see my beautiful daughter’s face, of course.
Kora’s mother, Park Hae-sun, was a native Korean born and raised in Korea. She had moved to the United States after meeting her husband, who had been stationed in Korea for a short time with the US Navy.
After marrying, they initially lived in a small town near Chicago. However, after Kora was conceived, they settled in the bleak northern part of Michigan, following her husband who had been discharged from the military under unpleasant circumstances and found work as a field employee at an iron mine.
With poor English and no specialized skills, she had been working as a kitchen assistant at the town's only Korean restaurant for several years. The reason Kora, despite being a diaspora child, was fluent in Korean language and culture was entirely due to her mother.
“How’s work? Is Mrs. Kwon still giving you a hard time?”
-
No, she’s taking good care of me lately. She even gave me a gift certificate since the Korean Chuseok holiday is coming up.
“Give me a break. Do you think she’s just giving it away? She definitely has an ulterior motive. Anyway, just hang in there. Once I graduate and get a good job, I’ll make tons of money and open a Korean BBQ restaurant for you. I’ll even put you on a Royal Caribbean cruise. I’m going to totally humble that woman.”
-
Now, you shouldn't say things like that. She’s still the one who has employed your mother for so long.
Kora’s eyes narrowed.
‘That’s because she employs her with the intent of sucking the very marrow out of her bones.’
In that restaurant with over twenty tables, her mother was the only kitchen assistant.
After working her to the bone, whenever Mrs. Kwon felt her mother might not be able to endure it any longer, she would give her a gift as if she were offering alms.
The "gifts" were usually clothes she had grown tired of or a half-used lipstick. It was as if she were reminding her mother that her own life was still superior.
She would probably use the excuse of the gift certificate to ask Kora's mother to make donggeurang-ttaeng (meat patties) for a church charity event.
All so she could boast to the white people that she was providing "exotic Asian finger foods" she had "personally" prepared.
Donggeurang-ttaeng... those take so much work to make...
‘Still, the look on Mrs. Kwon’s face when I got into Chatsworth was priceless. I heard her son still lives in her basement? She treated me like a servant because my mom works under her, serves her right. What a loser.’
Kora spoke with a bittersweet smile.
“Anyway, I’ll make your dreams come true, so just bear with it a little longer, okay?”
At those words, her mother’s eyebrows drooped.
‘What’s wrong with Mom?’
After a long silence, her mother hesitated and spoke with sad eyes.
-
I suppose. But that is my dream, not my daughter’s dream.
Kora’s heart sank as she saw tears welling up in her mother’s eyes. Her mother wiped her eyes and continued in a trembling voice.
-
...If only I had been a bit more capable, my daughter would have become a gold medalist in figure skating. Whenever I think about that, I feel so sorry I could die.
“.......”
-
I feel like I’m the one who clipped my child’s wings... I hear other families sell their houses to support their daughters if they have talent. Sigh. How did you end up with such a failure of a mother...
“Ah, what are you talking about? Don’t call yourself a failure! And what’s with the gold medal? Not just anyone can win one. Besides, I’m sick and tired of figure skating now.”
Her mother let out a deep sigh, unable to find words.
In truth, Kora had been a talented figure skating prospect.
During her junior years, her skills were outstanding enough that she had won the Regional Junior division, the qualifying round for the state of Michigan. It was thanks to that athletic record that she was able to enter the prestigious Chatsworth.
The atmosphere of the town had played a large role in Kora getting into figure skating.
She was born and raised in a region bordering Canada across Lake Superior, where heavy snow fell in midwinter and the lake froze solid.
Entertainment in the rural town was limited, so the children there learned one or two winter sports from a young age.
In such an environment, Kora began learning figure skating at a shabby local center when she was six, and she stood out immediately.
From then on, Kora’s school years were defined by figure skating.
She nurtured her dream of becoming a skater by winning various competitions, but the problem was the cost.
While winter sports are generally known as activities where you spend money rather than make it, the cost for a niche sport like figure skating was extreme.
Lesson fees, rink rentals, costumes. On top of that, there was the cost of hiring a choreographer.
Unless the family was wealthy to begin with or the skater won an Olympic medal to secure massive sponsorships, the structure was destined for a deficit.
Until high school, she barely managed with local scholarships and help from those around her, but after entering college, she had no choice but to give up her dream of skating.
Swallowing her bitterness, Kora spoke cheerfully.
“Mom, I never want to set foot in figure skating again. I had to be on edge every time I entered a competition. I was stressed that the judges would mess with the scores. I couldn't even eat what I wanted. Ugh.”
-
.......
“Your daughter is the happiest she’s ever been right now. Really! Doesn't my complexion look better?”
Despite Kora’s efforts to change the mood, her mother’s expression remained dark across the screen.
Seeing this, Kora sighed inwardly.
Someone once said that being born with artistic or athletic talent into a poor family is more of a curse than a blessing.
If so, the person suffering most from that curse might not be the talented individual, but the parent who cannot support their child's talent.
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