reciprocal
Here he is.
The first in an arc of trucks pulling into the driveway and onto the loading docks, headlights extending deep into the open garage. Old man Hong is already waiting by the rails with arms crossed and next to him, a sepulchral, looming figure at least two heads taller. He’s early, then. Even earlier than him. Jeyun clicks his tongue.
The work is difficult and repetitive but satisfying. His body works like a fine-tuned engine. By the time the magpies croak morning overhead it feels as if the machine has emptied out every last possible reserve. He squeezes out its last drops, pushes the last rickety cart back into storage before pressing a sooty thumb to identification. The unit locks and he knocks his head back and closes his eyes.
Old man Hong approaches with hands in pockets the way Jeyun hears them jingling loose change just behind his ears. He hears the other man approach too, Ferragamos against concrete. Barely scraping. Front edge of his heel rounded just so and he’ll never fix the habit. Jeyun opens his eyes.
“Mr. Hong,” he says with a bow. Then another to the other, “hyungnim.” It feels gritty like asphalt in his mouth and it’s not just dehydration talking. Mr. Hong hands him a bottle of water and Jeyun obliges with both hands and face half-turned and covered. “Thank you,” he clears his throat. “I’ll go ahead and double check inventory now to make sure everything has been delivered properly and that there haven’t been any missteps.”
The old man brushes him off with a wave of the hand. “Don’t hafta.” He says. “Kiyoon already took the liberty for ya while you were spreadin’ out blankets for the furniture.”
“Did he? Did you?”
Kiyoon’s expression is stolid as ever. Habits really do die hard. But Jeyun bows again and by the tug of tension stretching across his face he knows that the same applies for him because he’s smiling like he should. “Thank you,” he says.
“You’re a lucky one, ya know.” Old man Hong fishes out of his pockets five ten-thousand won bills. Tips. They are crinkled and filthy from Old man Hong’s persistent fondling but Jeyun takes them with two-hands-palms-out like a good boy. “Not a lot of big bros lookin’ out for their kids like he does. Get him a drink sometime, ya hear?”
He hears.
