From Geun-yeong’s further observation, no one was surprised to see Detective Kyung take out the key from inside the emergency exit. The two really seemed to have been to this house before. So he was about to feel envious again when Bong Tae-hee put his hand edge to Geun-yeong’s ear and “whispered” loud enough to echo all around:
“Honey, do you know Detective Kyung’s nickname? They call him ‘Kyungjiral.’ Kyungjiral! Isn’t that just perfect?”
And Bong Tae-hee began to roar with laughter.
Geun-yeong glanced at the man who was inserting and turning the key to open the door. And this time, he didn’t nod. He couldn’t agree with Detective Kyung’s nickname.
Detective Kyung seemed to have good relationships. It was evident from the blanket that smelled of other people, and from the fact that he invited Nurse Bong and Professor Baek to his home. And Detective Kyung also seemed to have love for humanity. It was clear considering the stories about how he would bring in corpses that others were ready to abandon and bury. Above all, just looking at how he readily picked up a complete stranger who was crying on the street and brought him home, Detective Kyung seemed like a really good person.
So Geun-yeong didn’t want to go along with Detective Kyung’s newly learned nickname. Though he didn’t agree with it, to be honest, he could understand why such a nickname had been given. Still, he didn’t nod his head in agreement.
As soon as they entered the house, everyone moved in perfect coordination and quickly took their positions. Professor Baek sat in front of the TV holding the remote, while Nurse Bong opened the cabinet under the sink to get out the rice. Kyung Jiho, who was coming out of the utility room with a burner, glanced at Ji Geun-yeong standing helplessly in the middle of the kitchen and said to Bong Tae-gu:
“Don’t ask this kid to do anything. He’s a complete mess.”
“Oh my. Why does that sound to me like a henpecked husband telling people not to make his wife work after she’s come to his parents’ house?”
Glaring at the giggling Bong Tae-gu as he passed by, Kyung Jiho gestured with his chin to Geun-yeong. Don’t hang around in the kitchen, go sit in the living room. Watch TV if you’re bored.
Geun-yeong thought that no matter how much of a mess he was, how could the youngest person just sit there doing nothing? He stood there awkwardly, running his fingers along the refrigerator.
Whether he noticed this situation or not, Professor Baek Moonjong called to Geun-yeong:
“Geun-yeong, is that a blood glucose meter? Come check mine for me.”
Happy to have something to do, Geun-yeong practically flew over to his kind benefactor who was giving him a task even in this situation.
And the blood sugar reading was:
[190]
It was quite high.
“No! Why is it like this? I can’t believe it! This can’t be right!”
“You had tangerines earlier…”
Six of them, in fact. This result was to be expected.
But Baek Moonjong, who was looking at the display again and again in disbelief and protesting vehemently, told Geun-yeong to check his own blood sugar. He thought the device must be broken. Geun-yeong’s blood sugar was:
[98]
Perfect.
“Well, that’s strange. We ate the same things, so why is his so good?”
“We didn’t eat the same…”
amount. Geun-yeong had eaten just the right amount of snacks, while Professor Baek had eaten six times the appropriate amount.
“See, see? I told you this kid says everything that’s on his mind! It’s so refreshing!”
Bong Tae-hee, who had just put the washed rice in the electric rice cooker and was approaching them with tongs, scissors, and napkins in one hand and a frying pan in the other, wore an expression as refreshed as his words suggested.
Professor Baek, who was fine with Geun-yeong speaking the truth but annoyed at the other one agreeing with him, glared at Bong Tae-gu.
Then Geun-yeong stretched his neck to look into the kitchen. Though Nurse Bong had come out to the living room, there was still a loud sound of running water in the kitchen. When he looked to see what it was, he saw Detective Kyung standing at the sink, and good heavens!
He was washing lettuce.
Shocked by how out of character this seemed, Geun-yeong jumped up and ran to the kitchen.
“I’ll wash it! I can wash lettuce!” he said, pushing against the man’s body with his hands. But the waist he touched was so firm that Geun-yeong suddenly felt tense. He curled his fingers and toes. Though he was tense, he still believed washing the lettuce was his job. As soon as the tension that had swept through his body disappeared, Geun-yeong tried to squeeze into the space between the sink and the man washing the lettuce. But then, beep beep, a mechanical sound was heard. Both Kyung Jiho and Ji Geun-yeong’s eyes fell simultaneously to the source of the sound. It was coming from Geun-yeong’s stomach.
“What’s that sound?”
Kyung Jiho asked. Though this kid was generally cute, his stomach couldn’t possibly make such a sound, so he had to ask.
Geun-yeong lifted his t-shirt and looked at the display on his insulin pump. Though he did this only because their eyes were already focused there, Kyung Jiho couldn’t help but see the flat stomach and the device attached to it. It made him somehow uncomfortable.
Unknowingly frowning, Kyung Jiho turned his head away. Then, continuing to wash the lettuce, he asked again:
“Why is it doing that?”
“Ah… it’s telling me to replace the insulin.”
“Then go inside. Do it in the room and come back.”
“But the lettuce first…”
Kyung Jiho planted his lettuce-holding hand on the sink and sighed deeply. The device attached to the kid’s stomach made him uncomfortable, and the kid’s attitude now somehow made him angry. He turned his head and said quietly to the kid who was reaching out for the lettuce:
“Do that first.”
Having lived his whole life reading people’s moods, Geun-yeong now read the man’s temperament and withdrew his outstretched hand. He gave a barely audible “yes” and turned around. He moved silently, listening to the somewhat regretful sound of running water. He picked up the bag placed in the corner of the living room and went into the room.
Why was Detective Kyung angry?
Geun-yeong asked himself this question as he turned off the device.
He’s probably angry because I was being frustrating.
Though not a perfect answer, it seemed close enough, and he sighed. As he removed the shield over the needle, he pulled out the needle in one go.
He’s probably frustrated because I don’t know how to do anything, I’m always flustered, and I keep making mistakes.
He disconnected the needle and line from the device that he had used for the past three days.
I was looking forward to taking a bath after removing this…
He had been waiting a long time for this moment. But strangely, he didn’t feel good. He didn’t feel unburdened. It wasn’t just because he couldn’t take a bath. On second thought, it was illogical for someone who was staying in someone else’s home to fill the tub and take a bath anyway.
Letting out another sigh that had risen unexpectedly, he took out the new insulin bottle he had received. He opened the plastic cap and set up the needle for the pump. He wiped the mouth of the insulin bottle with alcohol and inserted the needle into the rubber. After drawing out 3ml, he detached the needle from the bottle. Then, there was a distinctive medicinal smell that wafted to his nose.
Was this how it smelled?
It was a common smell in hospitals, but he couldn’t remember smelling it when replacing insulin at home.
But this was the first time he was replacing the insulin himself. While the man had been setting up the insulin pump, Geun-yeong had mostly been lying down with his head turned away. He might not have smelled it because of the distance. Geun-yeong didn’t find it strange that he was smelling this for the first time.
He inserted the replaced syringe into the pump and connected a new line after removing its packaging. He filled the line with insulin and watched until a drop formed at the tip of the needle.
He lifted his t-shirt up to just below his chest. The sites where the needle had been inserted usually healed cleanly, but occasionally they would scab if they hit a capillary. There were tiny scabs the size of needle marks still visible on his stomach.
He selected a spot without scabs and disinfected a suitable location with an alcohol swab. He held the wings of the needle and inserted it. The sharp pain made him bend over involuntarily. Wondering how it could sting like this every time, he removed the guide needle. He attached a new shield. He pressed the restart button on the device that had been stopped.
After thinking carefully, he also pressed the button for pre-meal injection. He didn’t want to forget his injection and appear flustered in front of Detective Kyung again.
10, 9, 8…
He watched the numbers count down with a mechanical “zzzing” sound.
…2, 1. After seeing it go down to 0, he lowered his shirt.
The long-awaited moment of liberation since getting the insulin pump, which he had been looking forward to for the first time, passed just like that.
By the time he came out after replacing the insulin, meat was already on the frying pan. No, everyone was already putting pieces into their mouths and chewing.
“Come sit quickly. Have a piece. It’s really delicious.”
“Yes.”
Geun-yeong sat in the space that had been left just wide enough for one person between Baek Moonjong and Kyung Jiho, who were telling him to sit down while waving their hands.
Jiho, who had paused his hand on its way to the frying pan, watched Geun-yeong pick up his chopsticks. He looked at his hands, his stomach, and then met his eyes.
“I’ve injected the insulin.”
Pleased that Detective Kyung had asked with his eyes, Geun-yeong quickly answered. This time he didn’t forget. He wasn’t normally that much of an idiot. This nuance was written not only in his smart-sounding words but also on his face.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
