The Scattered Stars Effect part one
Pairing: HimUp
Rated: PG13
Length: 4.2K
Main Song
Song Two
Song Three
Today was library day. Tuesday was always library day and Himchan didn’t like to detour from his schedule because then Hayoung was a beast come bedtime and tonight was the kind of night that already looked like it was going to end with a beer and a cool washcloth over his eyes.
“But I want to get ice cream today.” Hayoung threw her backpack to the ground in anger and stomped her Mary Jane covered feet on the sidewalk. “Mijung said her mommy lets her have ice cream after school every single day and you’re the meanest daddy in the world!”
Himchan pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered if child protection services would be called if he picked his daughter up by her feet and dragged her behind them all the way home. Probably yes. Onto Plan B then.
“Hayoung, daddy worked a very long time today and he’s so tired. Why don’t we go to the library and you can pick out as many books as you want to? You can read them to me while I fix supper and then maybe you can have a cookie for dessert.”
He could see her face mottling and turning pink as she geared up for a Level 5 Kim Hayoung tantrum and the last time this happened he heard a slight buzzing sound in his right eardrum for three days afterwards.
“Fine.” He whipped her backpack over his shoulder and jerked her down the street after him. “But this means you go to bed fifteen minutes early and this will not be a regular thing so don’t even think you can pull this stunt tomorrow.”
“Of course, daddy.” She grinned happily up at him, her innocent face now cleared completely of all previous mischief.
Sometimes Himchan could see her mother’s spitfire attitude coming out in her and even though Hayoung was a spoiled brat he was helpless to do anything to stop it. Every time he tried to punish her he stopped before he got too far because he was all Hayoung had now and a bratty daughter was better than no daughter.
“I want chocolate.” She demanded, swinging their arms between them. “With sprinkles. And gummy worms.” Her thumb found its way between her lips, a habit he had been trying two years to break. “And nuts.”
Her stomach was going to be in a rolling mess by the time supper came around, Himchan told himself with a grimace. Not a single bite would be eaten and then she would refuse to go to bed on time because she’d be hungry. Hayoung throwing tantrums to get her way wasn’t anything new, but in the last few months it had gotten so bad that he had resorted to pushing the clock hands forward a smidge to get her into bed earlier.
Being a parent was all about little lies, he reassured himself.
Of course Santa’s real.
No, the Tooth Fairy really does take your tooth. She just forgot it on the counter because she was in such a hurry. Maybe she’ll come back tonight for it.
Daddies love sleeping in the floor to scare away the monsters.
I don’t care if the sun is still out, when the clock says it’s bedtime then it’s bedtime!
The little lies were all that got him through some days. He loved his daughter more than anything in the world and he would jump in front of a train for her, but at the end of the day, when he crawled into his cold sheets and wrapped his legs around the spare pillow, he was dying from loneliness.
“There it is! There it is!” Hayoung pulled on Himchan’s hand and jumped up and down in excitement. They hadn’t been out to eat anywhere in months because of Himchan’s work schedule. It was either hastily thrown together meals or takeout for the Kim family every night. “Ohhh it’s so pretty! Look at the pictures on the glass!” She pressed her face to the bakery window and peered inside in awe.
Himchan pulled her away before her breath made fog on the glass. “Don’t mess up the windows. Act like a lady, Hayoung.”
She wrinkled her nose but did as she was told, straightening her spine and lifting her head. “Can ladies pull their underwear out of their butts?”
With a sigh Himchan helped her adjust her school uniform before they entered. “Let daddy order because for you so that you don’t ask for everything on the menu.”
“Don’t forget the gummy worms.”
He forced her into a chair and made her promise to stay quiet. “Good afternoon.” He greeted the elderly man at the counter with a smile. “Can I have a cup of chocolate ice cream with sprinkles and gummy worms.”
“Peanuts daddy!”
“And peanuts.” His smile was stretching a little bit thinner but the employee didn’t seem to notice. “We’re going to need a lot of napkins, too.”
The ice cream was quickly handed over and Himchan turned back to his daughter, ready to congratulate her for keeping her mouth shut (for the most part) when he realized that her seat was empty. The hot pink butterfly-patterned backpack he had been carrying was still on the table, but there was no other trace of her.
“Hayoung?” The word shriveled up in his throat and he felt the familiar bubble of anxiety shoot up his spine and across his shoulders, enveloping him in a panic that he felt every time his daughter left his sight for more than second. “Hayoung!”
“What?” She popped her head over a table on the other side of the small room. “Is my ice cream ready?”
Himchan sat down with a deep breath of relief. He hoped his hands weren’t shaking enough to be noticeable to the few other patrons around them. “When I tell you to sit down and be still and you don’t listen it makes daddy very, very upset.”
As she shoveled in oversized bites the chocolate dripped down her chin and onto the nice clean white collar that he had pressed the night before. “The paint man said it was okay to watch him.”
He craned his neck to the side with a frown. “The what?”
“She means me.”
Himchan jerked in shock at the soft voice that sounded from the floor where Hayoung had been sitting.
“I’m painting a mural for the bakery.” The voice continued before the mystery speaker finally stood and a smaller paint-covered man appeared before him. “She was asking me questions about it. I apologize if she got in trouble. I told her it was okay to watch me paint.”
He didn’t want his five-year old daughter to start thinking it was acceptable to speak to strange men. Even if he was nearby she needed to know that stranger sometimes meant danger and that she should follow the rules like a good girl.
“It’s not your fault, it’s my daughters.” He turned back to Hayoung with his serious face turned on. “Kim Hayoung, you know better than to run off with someone. I don’t care if I’m ten feet away, when I tell you to sit and be good then you have to do it. No questions asked.” His hand came up to stop her defensive retort before it had even started. “Eat your ice cream and let’s go home. One of us wants supper tonight.”
She slumped in her seat, hair covering her face in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
The man stood for a few seconds longer and bit his lip as he tried to think of something to say to defuse the situation. He eventually realized that silence was better than anything and nodded to himself before turning back to the wall.
Himchan could see the pencil outlines covering the large wall now that he knew to look for them. They were too small and too far away to make out what the design was but anyone with the patience to draw that much intricate detail must be talented.
Art was something he never had much patience with. Himchan liked facts and good hard numbers and deep thinking wasn’t something that he thought was useful. Deciphering the meaning in a bunch of paint streaks took too much time and effort that could have been better used making money and bettering yourself.
“I’m done.” Hayoung carefully pushed the bowl towards her father, her eyes still on the table.
“Good girl.” His fingers trailed through her dark hair. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. Just don’t run away from me again, okay?”
She nodded, her eyes landing on the wall again. “Can I tell the paint man goodbye? He is a really good painter, daddy. Come see what he’s doing!”
He let her pull him to his feet and drag him over to the wall where now Himchan could see exactly what the other man had been doing on the floor this whole time.
“Hello.” The man’s gray splotched cheeks pulled up into a grin when he saw the two above him inspecting his work so far. “I know it looks like a mess right now, but in a couple of weeks it will be amazing.” He jumped back to his feet and bowed awkwardly to Himchan, shaggy brown hair falling over his small eyes. “Sorry again for causing trouble. There’s not many people interested in creating a mural so I was excited to show her.”
Himchan peered closer at the pencil lines and then at the strip near the floor that already had blobs of paint brushed carefully over it. “I can’t really see much without my glasses.” He admitted. Truth was, he probably wouldn’t have been able to decipher it even with them on. The stripes and dots covering the wall didn’t make an ounce of sense to him.
“It’s really just an abstract piece.” The man took a step back and peered at it with narrowed eyes. “They asked for lots of color with no cheesy characters or fake ice cream cones. I’m hoping it catches your gaze but not so much that it distracts from the items for sale. I want a lot of different colors, but ones that complement each other so that they blend into the background when you see it out of the corner of your eye." He turned towards Himchan with an understanding tilt of his lips. “Not many people are into art as much as I am. I tend to ramble until someone stops me.”
He softened at the unspoken apology. “I’m sure it will be beautiful.” Hayoung was getting restless beside him, the sugar coursing through her system and making her hyper just like he knew it would. “Good luck.”
It was only when they had left and were walking the four blocks to their apartment that Himchan realized he hadn’t even asked for the man’s name.
“I liked their ice cream. They gave me a lot of gummy worms.” Hayoung licked her chocolate lined lips and skipped next to him. “And the paint boy looked like a prince.”
“A prince?” He laughed at his daughter’s imagination, all anger at her antics long forgotten. “Why is that?”
She shrugged before yawning and lifting her arms for Himchan to hold her the last two blocks. “Because his eyes were all sparkly when he smiled. In my princess books Grandma reads me all the princes have sparkly eyes.”
The black and white way children viewed the world made him envious. To look at a complete stranger and feel something for them, whether good or bad, just because of one little thing must be such an easy way to live.
Unfortunately, Himchan had been in the world for a lot of years and knew you had to be wary of everyone. Any single person walking down the street could be the reason your life ended. He’d learned that lesson way too early.
“I’m happy you liked him, Hayoung.” The wisdom he wanted to impart was too advanced for her five years and he had to phrase it so that she would understand. “It’s good to have trust. But you also need to remember that sometimes there are bad people out there who look like nice people. And daddy doesn’t want you to ever wander off when he isn’t looking because those bad people might want to take you home with them. I’m sure the paint man was very nice, but since we don’t know him we can’t just accept that as fact, okay?”
She nodded and seemed to understand so Himchan dropped the subject and turned it towards what had happened at school that day. Solo parenting for three years had taught him a thing or two about children’s attention spans. You didn’t push for too long and once you had made your point you moved on to something else.
“We start music lessons next week. My music teacher said that my fingers are delicate so I’m doing the flute. What does delicate mean?”
“It means small and ladylike. Your mom played the flute in school, too.”
The small smidgen of information about her mother made Hayoung grin. She always liked it when Himchan compared them, but the memory still ached in his chest and he could hardly stand to bring her up.
“Did she like ice cream?” Her question was soft, eyes glued to the sidewalk. Himchan wished for the millionth time that they had someone nurturing in their lives to fill the gap left by her mother.
“She loved it.” Actually she hated sweets and worked out compulsively to keep her slim figure, but Himchan figured Hayoung didn’t need to know that. “Her favorite was chocolate.”
“Just like me!”
The little lies always saved him.
---
“But Friday is grocery day.” Himchan felt his control as a father slipping away more with every day. The older Hayoung got the more defiant she became. It was starting to be a problem. “We need milk.” The other essential items left his brain as he scrambled for a reason to deny her request.
“We can go after can’t we?” She unzipped her backpack to pull out a crumbled drawing. Smoothing it out for him he saw a jumbled mess of lines and colors that looked like scribbles to him. “I made this for the painting man. Please can we go again, daddy?”
He stared at the picture in her hands that obviously was important to her even if it looked like something he would throw away after cleaning out her backpack. “Ten minutes. And no complaining when I say it’s time to leave or you don’t get your TV time tonight.”
“Yay!” He found himself dragged once again down the street. His daughter obviously wasn’t worried that the man wouldn’t be there that day as she educated her father on what her picture was about and why she chose each color. “Do you think he’ll like it?” She paused outside the door, her picture clutched to her chest and bottom lip snug between her teeth.
Himchan didn’t understand art any more than he understood brain surgery, but he did remember the kind way the man had treated his daughter. “I’m sure that he’ll love it.”
When they entered she immediately ran across the store to where the mural was, the project a little more advanced this time. She looked around hesitantly for the painter, disappoint clouding her face when she saw he was absent. “He’s not here, daddy.”
“Maybe he’s b-“
“Are you looking for me?” A grinning face popped around the corner, the familiar paint-covered cheeks pulled up in delight. “I was hoping the one and only member of my fan club would come back and visit.” Now that there wasn’t a table between them Himchan noticed how much smaller the stranger was compared to him, but the faded t-shirt wasn’t so large that Himchan couldn’t tell who would lose in a fist fight.
“I made you a picture.” Hayoung shyly held the paper out, eyes glued to the floor as she waited for his response. “I want to be a painter like you.”
His eyes stayed on her for a beat longer than was necessary before a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Well then let’s see what we’re working with here.” He held the paper up so that he could study it better. “Good use of color. Your lines need a little work but that comes with practice so you’re good there. I think the shading is even better than what I can do and I’ve been painting my whole life.”
Hayoung’s eyes brightened with his compliments. “Do you think I can work with you when I get older? Like when I’m ten?”
The childlike laugh was unexpected coming from a man’s face, but Himchan thought it suited him. His already small eyes disappeared completely while he laughed and it made him look years younger.
“Maybe twelve. We’ll start there, okay?” He bowed slightly. “I’m Jongup.”
“Kim Hayoung.” She grew timid now that they were talking and darted behind Himchan’s legs. “Daddy!” He felt a tug on his jacket. “Daddy, lean down!” Her small hands cupped around his ear as she whispered loud enough for the entire bakery to hear. “Can he have ice cream with us, too?”
“Honey I’m sure he has work to do and-“
“I brought money for him.” Her backpack was thrown to the floor as she dug through the small zippered pocket in the front. “You don’t even have to pay for it!”
There was no way anyone would have been able to refuse her wide puppy eyes and pout without feeling like the biggest jerk in the world.
Himchan tried to hide his sigh as he turned to Jongup with a shrug. “I hope you like ice cream.”
Jongup was still smiling, the word awkward obviously not in his dictionary. “I love it.” He cheerily followed Hayoung to the counter. “What’s your favorite flavor?” When she pointed to the chocolate he grabbed his chest in mock despair. “But that’s what I was going to get! You have to pick a new favorite because I was going to get the whole bucket!”
The giggles his daughter was giving the other made Himchan’s icy wall towards strangers chip a little bit. Ever since it had been just the two of them he had tried to keep Hayoung in a safe bubble, but maybe that was the wrong thing to do.
“Uh-uh.” She scooted in front of him to be the first in line. “I want chocolate and don’t give him any!”
Jongup slumped his shoulders and sadly pointed to the bucket of vanilla. “Can I at least have sprinkles?”
Hayoung thought hard for a second before she agreed.
After Hayoung paid for their ice cream with the allowance money she had been saving up for the last few weeks, they grabbed the table nearest to the wall so that she could look at the newest additions to the mural. Jongup quickly grabbed a seat from another table and pushed it towards Himchan. “Here. I’m sorry I don’t think I got your name.”
“Kim Himchan.”
Jongup mouthed the name to himself. “I like it.” He motioned towards the counter with a frown. “Why didn’t you order anything?”
“I don’t like spoiling my appetite before supper.”
“That’s no fun.” Jongup scooted his chair closer and slid his bowl in front of Himchan. “Life’s too short to not have ice cream.” When Himchan tried to refuse Jongup lifted the spoon and pushed it between Himchan’s lips anyways. “Don’t argue with me about ice cream. I will always win.”
Himchan licked the messy dessert from his lips and bit back a smile. “Some people take environmental change seriously and yet others take ice cream seriously.”
“Some people need to have their priorities in check.” Jongup nudged Himchan with his knee before turning his attention back to Hayoung. “After we finish do you want to help me paint?”
She dropped her spoon onto the counter, mouth dropping open in awe. “Really? I can help?”
The ice cream was quickly devoured with Hayoung not giving Jongup time to finish his before she was begging him to get started. Jongup pushed his bowl of vanilla ice cream back to Himchan and told him to finish it while he mixed his paints up.
“What color do you want to work with today?” He popped open his suitcase so that she could see all the dozens of colored tubes he had safely secured inside. “I’m tired of the brown and green colors. Let’s do something bright.”
“Pink!” She immediately pointed to a tube of coral-colored paint and clapped her hands in excitement. “I like pink!”
Jongup slid it from its elastic holder and squeezed a tiny dab onto the palette. The small piece of wood was covered in the splatters and remains of what looked like hundreds of previous art projects. “Do you want to help me make another shade of pink?” At her eager nod he added another squeeze of pink along with a tiny dab of white. “Can you mix it together?”
She used the palette knife he handed her, carefully stirring the two colors together until she had combined them. “Light pink!”
“If you join white to any color it makes a softer version of itself.” Jongup patiently explained as he searched through the bundle of brushes for the one he wanted. “Where do you want to put them?”
Himchan watched the two interact like old friends. A smile crept over his lips with every gentle word Jongup spoke to his daughter. He didn’t even think he would have the temperament to be this calm while trying to explain something. “You’re good with kids.” He blurted without thinking.
Jongup helped Hayoung hold the brush steady as she slowly dabbed the light pink into a tiny pencil-outlined circle. “I like kids.” He admitted, looking over his shoulder at Himchan. “I don’t really get to be around them much. Most parents see me covered in paint and wearing old clothes and think I’m homeless or a drug dealer or something.”
That thought had never even crossed Himchan’s mind. Even when he had chastised Hayoung about talking to strangers it wasn’t because he was worried about Jongup, he just wanted her to be cautious. Jongup didn’t look like anything more than a friendly painter to him. For all of his constant worrying and precautions, Himchan thought he was a decent judge of character and he had only seen goodness in Jongup so far.
“What’s homeless, daddy?”
“It’s when someone doesn’t have anywhere to live.” Jongup explained for her. “My apartment may not be a castle but it works for me.” He guided her hand to another spot he wanted the paint to go. “You’re a natural, Hayoung.”
They worked together with ease with Jongup stopping occasionally to explain something or correct the way she moved the brush. The work was slow. Jongup stepped back every few minutes to peer at the mural’s progress so far and guide Hayoung to another area that needed one of their pink colors. But Himchan had never seen his daughter so invested in something so he sat quietly and watched for as long as it took them to use up their pinks and the yellows that they had mixed up afterwards.
“I think that’s enough for today.” Jongup placed all of the dirty utensils to the side to wash. “It’s getting late and I’m sure your dad is ready to get you home.”
With a yawn Hayoung crawled into Himchan’s lap and murmured something about food and her belly being sad. “Can’t Jongup come eat with us, daddy?”
Jongup flinched in awkwardness, mouthing a sorry to Himchan. “Thank you for the invite Hayoung but I think I have a date with the laundry machine tonight.”
“No you should come.” Himchan was more surprised than Jongup by the hastily thrown words. “As a thank you.” He motioned towards the mural where Hayoung’s handiwork was permanently mixed with Jongup’s.
“Okay then.” The smaller boy’s smile was hesitant. “If you’re sure.” Himchan wrote down their address and Jongup promised to be right there after he washed his tools and cleaned up. “Should I, I don’t know, bring something maybe?”
Himchan chuckled as he picked a barely awake Hayoung up in his arms. “No, no don’t worry about it. I’m just going to order out so don’t expect anything extravagant.”
“I’ve been living off of cup noodles for three months. I’m sure I’ll be ecstatic over anything.” Jongup waved goodbye as they left the bakery.
The walk home took longer than it usually did because by the time Himchan had turned the first corner Hayoung was already sound asleep in his arms. For the first time in years they were actually having someone over to their apartment and it felt partially terrifying and a little bit exciting. Maybe they weren’t destined to be hermits for the rest of their lives. Maybe this was the start of both of them getting out of their shells and making new friends and starting new lives. This could be the beginning of being normal again.
Part Two
Rated: PG13
Length: 4.2K
Main Song
Song Two
Song Three
Today was library day. Tuesday was always library day and Himchan didn’t like to detour from his schedule because then Hayoung was a beast come bedtime and tonight was the kind of night that already looked like it was going to end with a beer and a cool washcloth over his eyes.
“But I want to get ice cream today.” Hayoung threw her backpack to the ground in anger and stomped her Mary Jane covered feet on the sidewalk. “Mijung said her mommy lets her have ice cream after school every single day and you’re the meanest daddy in the world!”
Himchan pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered if child protection services would be called if he picked his daughter up by her feet and dragged her behind them all the way home. Probably yes. Onto Plan B then.
“Hayoung, daddy worked a very long time today and he’s so tired. Why don’t we go to the library and you can pick out as many books as you want to? You can read them to me while I fix supper and then maybe you can have a cookie for dessert.”
He could see her face mottling and turning pink as she geared up for a Level 5 Kim Hayoung tantrum and the last time this happened he heard a slight buzzing sound in his right eardrum for three days afterwards.
“Fine.” He whipped her backpack over his shoulder and jerked her down the street after him. “But this means you go to bed fifteen minutes early and this will not be a regular thing so don’t even think you can pull this stunt tomorrow.”
“Of course, daddy.” She grinned happily up at him, her innocent face now cleared completely of all previous mischief.
Sometimes Himchan could see her mother’s spitfire attitude coming out in her and even though Hayoung was a spoiled brat he was helpless to do anything to stop it. Every time he tried to punish her he stopped before he got too far because he was all Hayoung had now and a bratty daughter was better than no daughter.
“I want chocolate.” She demanded, swinging their arms between them. “With sprinkles. And gummy worms.” Her thumb found its way between her lips, a habit he had been trying two years to break. “And nuts.”
Her stomach was going to be in a rolling mess by the time supper came around, Himchan told himself with a grimace. Not a single bite would be eaten and then she would refuse to go to bed on time because she’d be hungry. Hayoung throwing tantrums to get her way wasn’t anything new, but in the last few months it had gotten so bad that he had resorted to pushing the clock hands forward a smidge to get her into bed earlier.
Being a parent was all about little lies, he reassured himself.
Of course Santa’s real.
No, the Tooth Fairy really does take your tooth. She just forgot it on the counter because she was in such a hurry. Maybe she’ll come back tonight for it.
Daddies love sleeping in the floor to scare away the monsters.
I don’t care if the sun is still out, when the clock says it’s bedtime then it’s bedtime!
The little lies were all that got him through some days. He loved his daughter more than anything in the world and he would jump in front of a train for her, but at the end of the day, when he crawled into his cold sheets and wrapped his legs around the spare pillow, he was dying from loneliness.
“There it is! There it is!” Hayoung pulled on Himchan’s hand and jumped up and down in excitement. They hadn’t been out to eat anywhere in months because of Himchan’s work schedule. It was either hastily thrown together meals or takeout for the Kim family every night. “Ohhh it’s so pretty! Look at the pictures on the glass!” She pressed her face to the bakery window and peered inside in awe.
Himchan pulled her away before her breath made fog on the glass. “Don’t mess up the windows. Act like a lady, Hayoung.”
She wrinkled her nose but did as she was told, straightening her spine and lifting her head. “Can ladies pull their underwear out of their butts?”
With a sigh Himchan helped her adjust her school uniform before they entered. “Let daddy order because for you so that you don’t ask for everything on the menu.”
“Don’t forget the gummy worms.”
He forced her into a chair and made her promise to stay quiet. “Good afternoon.” He greeted the elderly man at the counter with a smile. “Can I have a cup of chocolate ice cream with sprinkles and gummy worms.”
“Peanuts daddy!”
“And peanuts.” His smile was stretching a little bit thinner but the employee didn’t seem to notice. “We’re going to need a lot of napkins, too.”
The ice cream was quickly handed over and Himchan turned back to his daughter, ready to congratulate her for keeping her mouth shut (for the most part) when he realized that her seat was empty. The hot pink butterfly-patterned backpack he had been carrying was still on the table, but there was no other trace of her.
“Hayoung?” The word shriveled up in his throat and he felt the familiar bubble of anxiety shoot up his spine and across his shoulders, enveloping him in a panic that he felt every time his daughter left his sight for more than second. “Hayoung!”
“What?” She popped her head over a table on the other side of the small room. “Is my ice cream ready?”
Himchan sat down with a deep breath of relief. He hoped his hands weren’t shaking enough to be noticeable to the few other patrons around them. “When I tell you to sit down and be still and you don’t listen it makes daddy very, very upset.”
As she shoveled in oversized bites the chocolate dripped down her chin and onto the nice clean white collar that he had pressed the night before. “The paint man said it was okay to watch him.”
He craned his neck to the side with a frown. “The what?”
“She means me.”
Himchan jerked in shock at the soft voice that sounded from the floor where Hayoung had been sitting.
“I’m painting a mural for the bakery.” The voice continued before the mystery speaker finally stood and a smaller paint-covered man appeared before him. “She was asking me questions about it. I apologize if she got in trouble. I told her it was okay to watch me paint.”
He didn’t want his five-year old daughter to start thinking it was acceptable to speak to strange men. Even if he was nearby she needed to know that stranger sometimes meant danger and that she should follow the rules like a good girl.
“It’s not your fault, it’s my daughters.” He turned back to Hayoung with his serious face turned on. “Kim Hayoung, you know better than to run off with someone. I don’t care if I’m ten feet away, when I tell you to sit and be good then you have to do it. No questions asked.” His hand came up to stop her defensive retort before it had even started. “Eat your ice cream and let’s go home. One of us wants supper tonight.”
She slumped in her seat, hair covering her face in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
The man stood for a few seconds longer and bit his lip as he tried to think of something to say to defuse the situation. He eventually realized that silence was better than anything and nodded to himself before turning back to the wall.
Himchan could see the pencil outlines covering the large wall now that he knew to look for them. They were too small and too far away to make out what the design was but anyone with the patience to draw that much intricate detail must be talented.
Art was something he never had much patience with. Himchan liked facts and good hard numbers and deep thinking wasn’t something that he thought was useful. Deciphering the meaning in a bunch of paint streaks took too much time and effort that could have been better used making money and bettering yourself.
“I’m done.” Hayoung carefully pushed the bowl towards her father, her eyes still on the table.
“Good girl.” His fingers trailed through her dark hair. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. Just don’t run away from me again, okay?”
She nodded, her eyes landing on the wall again. “Can I tell the paint man goodbye? He is a really good painter, daddy. Come see what he’s doing!”
He let her pull him to his feet and drag him over to the wall where now Himchan could see exactly what the other man had been doing on the floor this whole time.
“Hello.” The man’s gray splotched cheeks pulled up into a grin when he saw the two above him inspecting his work so far. “I know it looks like a mess right now, but in a couple of weeks it will be amazing.” He jumped back to his feet and bowed awkwardly to Himchan, shaggy brown hair falling over his small eyes. “Sorry again for causing trouble. There’s not many people interested in creating a mural so I was excited to show her.”
Himchan peered closer at the pencil lines and then at the strip near the floor that already had blobs of paint brushed carefully over it. “I can’t really see much without my glasses.” He admitted. Truth was, he probably wouldn’t have been able to decipher it even with them on. The stripes and dots covering the wall didn’t make an ounce of sense to him.
“It’s really just an abstract piece.” The man took a step back and peered at it with narrowed eyes. “They asked for lots of color with no cheesy characters or fake ice cream cones. I’m hoping it catches your gaze but not so much that it distracts from the items for sale. I want a lot of different colors, but ones that complement each other so that they blend into the background when you see it out of the corner of your eye." He turned towards Himchan with an understanding tilt of his lips. “Not many people are into art as much as I am. I tend to ramble until someone stops me.”
He softened at the unspoken apology. “I’m sure it will be beautiful.” Hayoung was getting restless beside him, the sugar coursing through her system and making her hyper just like he knew it would. “Good luck.”
It was only when they had left and were walking the four blocks to their apartment that Himchan realized he hadn’t even asked for the man’s name.
“I liked their ice cream. They gave me a lot of gummy worms.” Hayoung licked her chocolate lined lips and skipped next to him. “And the paint boy looked like a prince.”
“A prince?” He laughed at his daughter’s imagination, all anger at her antics long forgotten. “Why is that?”
She shrugged before yawning and lifting her arms for Himchan to hold her the last two blocks. “Because his eyes were all sparkly when he smiled. In my princess books Grandma reads me all the princes have sparkly eyes.”
The black and white way children viewed the world made him envious. To look at a complete stranger and feel something for them, whether good or bad, just because of one little thing must be such an easy way to live.
Unfortunately, Himchan had been in the world for a lot of years and knew you had to be wary of everyone. Any single person walking down the street could be the reason your life ended. He’d learned that lesson way too early.
“I’m happy you liked him, Hayoung.” The wisdom he wanted to impart was too advanced for her five years and he had to phrase it so that she would understand. “It’s good to have trust. But you also need to remember that sometimes there are bad people out there who look like nice people. And daddy doesn’t want you to ever wander off when he isn’t looking because those bad people might want to take you home with them. I’m sure the paint man was very nice, but since we don’t know him we can’t just accept that as fact, okay?”
She nodded and seemed to understand so Himchan dropped the subject and turned it towards what had happened at school that day. Solo parenting for three years had taught him a thing or two about children’s attention spans. You didn’t push for too long and once you had made your point you moved on to something else.
“We start music lessons next week. My music teacher said that my fingers are delicate so I’m doing the flute. What does delicate mean?”
“It means small and ladylike. Your mom played the flute in school, too.”
The small smidgen of information about her mother made Hayoung grin. She always liked it when Himchan compared them, but the memory still ached in his chest and he could hardly stand to bring her up.
“Did she like ice cream?” Her question was soft, eyes glued to the sidewalk. Himchan wished for the millionth time that they had someone nurturing in their lives to fill the gap left by her mother.
“She loved it.” Actually she hated sweets and worked out compulsively to keep her slim figure, but Himchan figured Hayoung didn’t need to know that. “Her favorite was chocolate.”
“Just like me!”
The little lies always saved him.
---
“But Friday is grocery day.” Himchan felt his control as a father slipping away more with every day. The older Hayoung got the more defiant she became. It was starting to be a problem. “We need milk.” The other essential items left his brain as he scrambled for a reason to deny her request.
“We can go after can’t we?” She unzipped her backpack to pull out a crumbled drawing. Smoothing it out for him he saw a jumbled mess of lines and colors that looked like scribbles to him. “I made this for the painting man. Please can we go again, daddy?”
He stared at the picture in her hands that obviously was important to her even if it looked like something he would throw away after cleaning out her backpack. “Ten minutes. And no complaining when I say it’s time to leave or you don’t get your TV time tonight.”
“Yay!” He found himself dragged once again down the street. His daughter obviously wasn’t worried that the man wouldn’t be there that day as she educated her father on what her picture was about and why she chose each color. “Do you think he’ll like it?” She paused outside the door, her picture clutched to her chest and bottom lip snug between her teeth.
Himchan didn’t understand art any more than he understood brain surgery, but he did remember the kind way the man had treated his daughter. “I’m sure that he’ll love it.”
When they entered she immediately ran across the store to where the mural was, the project a little more advanced this time. She looked around hesitantly for the painter, disappoint clouding her face when she saw he was absent. “He’s not here, daddy.”
“Maybe he’s b-“
“Are you looking for me?” A grinning face popped around the corner, the familiar paint-covered cheeks pulled up in delight. “I was hoping the one and only member of my fan club would come back and visit.” Now that there wasn’t a table between them Himchan noticed how much smaller the stranger was compared to him, but the faded t-shirt wasn’t so large that Himchan couldn’t tell who would lose in a fist fight.
“I made you a picture.” Hayoung shyly held the paper out, eyes glued to the floor as she waited for his response. “I want to be a painter like you.”
His eyes stayed on her for a beat longer than was necessary before a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Well then let’s see what we’re working with here.” He held the paper up so that he could study it better. “Good use of color. Your lines need a little work but that comes with practice so you’re good there. I think the shading is even better than what I can do and I’ve been painting my whole life.”
Hayoung’s eyes brightened with his compliments. “Do you think I can work with you when I get older? Like when I’m ten?”
The childlike laugh was unexpected coming from a man’s face, but Himchan thought it suited him. His already small eyes disappeared completely while he laughed and it made him look years younger.
“Maybe twelve. We’ll start there, okay?” He bowed slightly. “I’m Jongup.”
“Kim Hayoung.” She grew timid now that they were talking and darted behind Himchan’s legs. “Daddy!” He felt a tug on his jacket. “Daddy, lean down!” Her small hands cupped around his ear as she whispered loud enough for the entire bakery to hear. “Can he have ice cream with us, too?”
“Honey I’m sure he has work to do and-“
“I brought money for him.” Her backpack was thrown to the floor as she dug through the small zippered pocket in the front. “You don’t even have to pay for it!”
There was no way anyone would have been able to refuse her wide puppy eyes and pout without feeling like the biggest jerk in the world.
Himchan tried to hide his sigh as he turned to Jongup with a shrug. “I hope you like ice cream.”
Jongup was still smiling, the word awkward obviously not in his dictionary. “I love it.” He cheerily followed Hayoung to the counter. “What’s your favorite flavor?” When she pointed to the chocolate he grabbed his chest in mock despair. “But that’s what I was going to get! You have to pick a new favorite because I was going to get the whole bucket!”
The giggles his daughter was giving the other made Himchan’s icy wall towards strangers chip a little bit. Ever since it had been just the two of them he had tried to keep Hayoung in a safe bubble, but maybe that was the wrong thing to do.
“Uh-uh.” She scooted in front of him to be the first in line. “I want chocolate and don’t give him any!”
Jongup slumped his shoulders and sadly pointed to the bucket of vanilla. “Can I at least have sprinkles?”
Hayoung thought hard for a second before she agreed.
After Hayoung paid for their ice cream with the allowance money she had been saving up for the last few weeks, they grabbed the table nearest to the wall so that she could look at the newest additions to the mural. Jongup quickly grabbed a seat from another table and pushed it towards Himchan. “Here. I’m sorry I don’t think I got your name.”
“Kim Himchan.”
Jongup mouthed the name to himself. “I like it.” He motioned towards the counter with a frown. “Why didn’t you order anything?”
“I don’t like spoiling my appetite before supper.”
“That’s no fun.” Jongup scooted his chair closer and slid his bowl in front of Himchan. “Life’s too short to not have ice cream.” When Himchan tried to refuse Jongup lifted the spoon and pushed it between Himchan’s lips anyways. “Don’t argue with me about ice cream. I will always win.”
Himchan licked the messy dessert from his lips and bit back a smile. “Some people take environmental change seriously and yet others take ice cream seriously.”
“Some people need to have their priorities in check.” Jongup nudged Himchan with his knee before turning his attention back to Hayoung. “After we finish do you want to help me paint?”
She dropped her spoon onto the counter, mouth dropping open in awe. “Really? I can help?”
The ice cream was quickly devoured with Hayoung not giving Jongup time to finish his before she was begging him to get started. Jongup pushed his bowl of vanilla ice cream back to Himchan and told him to finish it while he mixed his paints up.
“What color do you want to work with today?” He popped open his suitcase so that she could see all the dozens of colored tubes he had safely secured inside. “I’m tired of the brown and green colors. Let’s do something bright.”
“Pink!” She immediately pointed to a tube of coral-colored paint and clapped her hands in excitement. “I like pink!”
Jongup slid it from its elastic holder and squeezed a tiny dab onto the palette. The small piece of wood was covered in the splatters and remains of what looked like hundreds of previous art projects. “Do you want to help me make another shade of pink?” At her eager nod he added another squeeze of pink along with a tiny dab of white. “Can you mix it together?”
She used the palette knife he handed her, carefully stirring the two colors together until she had combined them. “Light pink!”
“If you join white to any color it makes a softer version of itself.” Jongup patiently explained as he searched through the bundle of brushes for the one he wanted. “Where do you want to put them?”
Himchan watched the two interact like old friends. A smile crept over his lips with every gentle word Jongup spoke to his daughter. He didn’t even think he would have the temperament to be this calm while trying to explain something. “You’re good with kids.” He blurted without thinking.
Jongup helped Hayoung hold the brush steady as she slowly dabbed the light pink into a tiny pencil-outlined circle. “I like kids.” He admitted, looking over his shoulder at Himchan. “I don’t really get to be around them much. Most parents see me covered in paint and wearing old clothes and think I’m homeless or a drug dealer or something.”
That thought had never even crossed Himchan’s mind. Even when he had chastised Hayoung about talking to strangers it wasn’t because he was worried about Jongup, he just wanted her to be cautious. Jongup didn’t look like anything more than a friendly painter to him. For all of his constant worrying and precautions, Himchan thought he was a decent judge of character and he had only seen goodness in Jongup so far.
“What’s homeless, daddy?”
“It’s when someone doesn’t have anywhere to live.” Jongup explained for her. “My apartment may not be a castle but it works for me.” He guided her hand to another spot he wanted the paint to go. “You’re a natural, Hayoung.”
They worked together with ease with Jongup stopping occasionally to explain something or correct the way she moved the brush. The work was slow. Jongup stepped back every few minutes to peer at the mural’s progress so far and guide Hayoung to another area that needed one of their pink colors. But Himchan had never seen his daughter so invested in something so he sat quietly and watched for as long as it took them to use up their pinks and the yellows that they had mixed up afterwards.
“I think that’s enough for today.” Jongup placed all of the dirty utensils to the side to wash. “It’s getting late and I’m sure your dad is ready to get you home.”
With a yawn Hayoung crawled into Himchan’s lap and murmured something about food and her belly being sad. “Can’t Jongup come eat with us, daddy?”
Jongup flinched in awkwardness, mouthing a sorry to Himchan. “Thank you for the invite Hayoung but I think I have a date with the laundry machine tonight.”
“No you should come.” Himchan was more surprised than Jongup by the hastily thrown words. “As a thank you.” He motioned towards the mural where Hayoung’s handiwork was permanently mixed with Jongup’s.
“Okay then.” The smaller boy’s smile was hesitant. “If you’re sure.” Himchan wrote down their address and Jongup promised to be right there after he washed his tools and cleaned up. “Should I, I don’t know, bring something maybe?”
Himchan chuckled as he picked a barely awake Hayoung up in his arms. “No, no don’t worry about it. I’m just going to order out so don’t expect anything extravagant.”
“I’ve been living off of cup noodles for three months. I’m sure I’ll be ecstatic over anything.” Jongup waved goodbye as they left the bakery.
The walk home took longer than it usually did because by the time Himchan had turned the first corner Hayoung was already sound asleep in his arms. For the first time in years they were actually having someone over to their apartment and it felt partially terrifying and a little bit exciting. Maybe they weren’t destined to be hermits for the rest of their lives. Maybe this was the start of both of them getting out of their shells and making new friends and starting new lives. This could be the beginning of being normal again.
Part Two