I must be right

Just as usual

Summer sun dazes. A pack of pasqueflowers(할미꽃) blooms around the house. As I crawl outside, I see disgustingly fresh green everywhere. I still think the color green killed my mom. When I was five, or maybe six, my mom died in front of me, coughing blood and green puke. People told me that she died by herself, but I don't believe it. I still think the color green is what killed my mom.

It's been three days since Papa left. People said Papa died in a car accident. I think people are right this time. Well, how someone probably doesn't really matter. I have a daily routine. As my slim body slips through a small gap at the door, I give three taps on the door frame. Take double steps to the right and double steps to the left. A tiny hop, then a huge leap down 3 stairs. There, stop for 3 seconds to greet the sunlight. And then, I finally check the postbox. My day always starts as I check the empty postbox. But I'm not checking today. There's nothing anyway. 

I get ready to go to the grocery store.

I hop in the car. The fuel tank is full and tires are all set. I am ready to go. It's a 15-minute drive from here.

...

I park at my favorite spot in the parking lot, right next to the carts. The parking lot is entirely empty. Nobody is at the store today, I guess. Or maybe I am the first one. I like going into the store from behind. I take the secret route and sneak into the store. The store is a little messy, but it's alright.

"Hey, Mr. Long!" I shout at the janitor Mr. Long. He's the only one who greets me here.

"Hey, Henry, I haven't seen you in a while." He replies.

"Can I take this? You know I like red ones than greens," I ask him as I point at the lollipop pack in front of me.

"Henry, you can take whatever from here. Haven't I told you?"

"No, no, Mr. Lee. I don't need it for free. I have money."

I shout at him as I walk through the flour aisle.

I grab one bag of medium flour and a bottle of vegetable oil.

The checkout changed into self-checkouts since somewhat ago here. After beeping the flour bag, lollipop set, and vegetable oil, I put $16 in the cashbox. 

It's getting hot. I guess I should get going quickly.

I hop into the car and drive back home.

It's always exciting to take a new set of lollipops home. I open the pantry as I get in the house.

I see an extra set of lollipops and one wheat bag that is still 60% full. Well, overflowing is better than running out. Who cares, anyway? As long as I eat them all, nothing happens.

_____________

Summer sun still dazes. The pasqueflowers are still at their peak. Today I am doing the routines. Double steps to each side, and I jump down the stairs. I open the postbox and close it. Wait. There was something. For the first time in years, I am worried and excited. A small, white postcard gently sits at the very back. I hurriedly grab it but it is already opened. The mail reads: "Dear Mr. Henry Boyle, you may return after 7 days. Take your time." But the date seemed a little weird. "May 28th." Someone must have done a little mischief on this mail. I shove it back in and return home.

All I have is time. I have nothing else to do. I sit back on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to wait until another day goes by... I close my eyes and think.

"Thump, thump."

Something woke me up. Must be the sound coming from the drains or something.

I close my eyes again. 

"THUD"

Something is banging on my door. A bird? A hog? Or a bear?

I stroll to the door. As I get closer to the door, I hear an unfamiliar sound of an engine.

I peek through the peephole.

Wait... What? All I see is a curvy shape of a belly-like object. Is that a person?

"Mr. Boyle! Are you there?" shouts the guy in front of the door.

"Ye.. yes!" Oh, shoot. I accidentally responded. 

"I am Officer Anderson of the Northern Ulsan Police Department. I came to ask you something. Please open the door."

A police? For what? I am opening the door, but I have no idea what's happening.

"Hello, Mr. Boyle. I have heard that you have been missing for the past few weeks. I wasn't expecting to find you so easily, but well, since I have found you, can I ask you a few more things?"

"Missing? Who says that. You can ask me things but I sure never was missing at all."

"Well, apparently, you were. When was the last time you met other people?"

"Two days ago, sir. My dad died three days ago. No, now it's four days maybe. I'm not the only one sad for my dad you know. He's got friends too." 

"Well then, what did you do after you came back?"

"I did nothing, sir. I wake up, I eat homemade bread and lollipops. I feel comfortable and happy. I don't need to go anywhere."

"Okay, can you come with me just for a few hours? I have more to talk with you at the station."

"Sure, sir... but no more than a day. I need to do my routines here."

"Alright."

On the way to the police station, which may take half an hour of driving, I tell Officer Anderson about Mr. Lee about how he greets me every time. I tell him how nice Mr. Lee is and that he always saves lollipops for me. He doesn't answer though.

It's my first time at the police station. It's smaller than I thought, but it's okay. We go into a separate room and then he finally starts talking.

"Mr. Boyle, when's the last time you met Mr. Lee?" He asks, not even looking at me. He's looking at a chunk of paper.
"Yesterday. I went to the grocery store yesterday to buy a lollipop."
"You said two days ago was the last time you saw other people. Which grocery store did you go to?" He asks in a low voice.

"Oh, maybe I forgot. I go to the grocery store 15 minutes away from my house. Do you know K-mart?"

"K-mart? It closed down a few weeks ago." He says in a confused voice.

I confidently talk back, "What do you mean? I was there yesterday." I forgot to tell him how trendy and easy it became to check with the self-checkout.

"Mr. Boyle, what did you buy yesterday?"

"I bought a pack of lollipops and a flour bag there. You know they adopted self-checkouts there, they are getting new."

He is finally done looking at the papers. It seems like he knows something, but I'm not curious. He looks right at me and asks, "Mr. Boyle, do you know what day is today?" 

"I don't really look at calendars these days. It's mid-summer, so maybe July 10th?"

With a slight smile on his face, he asks again, "Good. When did your father pass away once again?" 

"Three days ago. No, it's four. Yeap. Four days ago."

"Okay, Mr. Boyle. I'm going to let you go soon. Before that, do you remember any friends, families, or just anyone's contacts?"

"No, sir. I don't necessarily memorize contacts."

"Alright. We'll let you go now. Just to let you know, we might get to you after a few days."
"Okay, thanks."

We stand up and shake hands. He is driving me back home.

As we arrive at the driveway, we say goodbye, and I lay my steps into the home soon after. I'm not sure what's up with him, but Officer Anderson sure is a poor guy. Taking responsibility for a wrong incident. I guess someone made a small mischief with a phone call and told him that I had gone missing.

Well, it was a tiring day unlike usual. I must sleep now.

_____________________________

 

Summer sun ages. A pack of pasqueflowers steps down from its prime. Instead, trumpet creepers arise and get ready to take over. As I slip through the door, I tap on the door frames thrice. I take two steps to the right and two steps to the left. A tiny hop, and then I jump down the stairs with a single jump. A 3-second pause for photosynthesis, and then I check the postbox. Wait, there's something in there for years and years. I excitedly take it out. It's a little smooshed, and I guess the opening was ripped when it was delivered. "Dear Mr. Henry Boyle, you may return after 7 days. Take your time." That's right. My dad died three days ago. 

Meaning of pasqueflowers: sad memory

Meaning of trumpet creepers: longing