Eighteen’s Bed

Did I really say that? Well, I don’t even remember disliking the white part because I never really ate tangerines. I don’t hate the taste of tangerines though. So, did I not eat them because I was just lazy? Maybe the premise is all wrong. I don’t think we had tangerines at home much anyway. Anyway, the white part of the tangerine was called "gyullak." It even had a name.

The wrapper was torn. The taut transparent plastic wrapper was placed over the tangerine, which had been torn open. I forgot about my meal and just stared at the scene. But aren’t you going to answer my question?

“Yes.”

She does answer. I quickly gulped down my water, feeling awkward.

It's definitely better to be quiet than to talk too much. But this lady was on the quiet side. She worked as a live-in housekeeper, but there was no one living in the house.

A sudden curiosity popped up in my mind. Does her mouth not dry up? Doesn’t she have anything to say? If this were before, I wouldn’t have thought much of it. It’s all because I have no friends. I have no need to use my brain, so the glucose in my brain must be just sitting idle.

I poked at the meat in my samgyetang and impulsively said something. It was definitely an unplanned remark.

“Auntie, aren’t you bored? Since there’s no one at home.”

Ah, crap. I thought to myself that I made a mistake right after saying it. Damn. What kind of slip of the tongue is that?

I tend to be weak around adults. When I make the same mistake, I feel more guilty with adults than with people my age. Because of that, my appetite, which wasn’t really there before, completely disappeared.

The good thing was that the lady quickly responded to my awkward comment.

“It’s just like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“I was being rude.”

“It’s fine.”

Even if she said it was fine, I couldn’t let it go. After all, I’m the employer, and she’s the employee. I’ve lived my life constantly worrying about what others think, so I’ve gotten into the habit of not believing everything people say.

Only the sound of spoons clinking against the dishes broke the silence. I kept scooping the soup and spilling it again. The lady wiped the sink with a cloth for a long time without saying anything, and then suddenly spoke up.

“You’re really nice, student.”

“…Me?”

“Yes.”

I’ve heard that before. But it’s not true at all. I ended up smiling uncomfortably for some reason.

“I’m really not that nice.”

“People who hire you don’t know, but the local housekeepers get close.”

“Oh, I see.”

That’s a relief, I guess. I briefly pondered that thought. The lady’s indifferent tone continued with a pause in the middle. I thought I heard a sigh. Maybe it was just my imagination.

“I was close with the lady next door.”