An Ode to Maehwa | kth

Chapter 17: The Loss

A barren field with short dry grass growing—Taehyung stood in front of a small mound, its top piled with stones, with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

"Mother, I'm here."

Taehyung was only four when he learnt his first magic trick. He had to use both of his tiny hands to cover two small dice making one disappear and reappear, while an adult could easily do it with clenching one hand.

"Oh my! Taehyung-ah, when did you learn this trick? Did you just watch and learn?"

A woman with snowy skin, long silky hair adorning night sky, curved up her peach blossom coloured lips. This woman, no less than the word 'beautiful' could describe, bloomed in smile as she looked at her son adoringly.

"You're such a smart boy, Taehyung-ah. Mummy is proud of you!"

A boy of four years old didn't entirely capture the art of magic. He merely did what his mother usually did, but that was enough for him to learn it evoked his mother's jubilant smile that was imprinted in his mind forever.

Taehyung's mother worked in a brothel. With her frail beauty and cheerful character, she was a rather popular prostitute—that was until four years ago, when she gave birth to him. No one welcomed a prostitute with a child. It only meant one more mouth to feed, and whining to deal with.

Stinging cold wind blew against her, and she could only work harder to earn more money to feed both, and earn more to attain the owner's patience to let them stay. That was why she decided to learn magic tricks and develop another useful skill other than sweet talking, so that she could entertain her customers more.

He was only four. But the owner of the brothel wasn't too kind to let him stay babysitted; he was ordered to wipe the floors, clean the dishes or wash clothes—any chores that existed in the house. All he needed was to stay with his mother, see her smile, and for that he'd be happy to work diligently with his tiny body.

Even that most unpretentious happiness shattered when he was seven—when his mother died in an unknown sickness. He was instantly thrown outside with the cold body of his mother, almost as if the ten years she served for the brothel didn't exist.

"Look at this brat. Not even a tear for your mother's death," the owner spat before quickly returning back to the building, not even a glance given.

No one cried for his mother. Not even Taehyung.

That midnight, he noticed how his mother's body had grown cold. She had been very ill recently that he wasn't sure the last time he saw her stand up and walk. He called her name over and over again, shaking her icy body that felt like a stranger.

Someone came to complain about the noise, and inspecting the scene, the person muttered 'dead'. And that was when his time stopped.

Now he was sitting on the ground hugging a cold body, in the street that was enveloped in pitch black darkness too murky to see an inch ahead.

It would've been impossible for a seven-year-old boy to carry a mature body to find a safe place to bury, unless a man who worked as a guard of the brothel felt pity and helped him out. He sat blankly in the middle of the barren land, desolate with hardly any grass growing for the entire night, without a fragment of sleep.

Eventually the morning light stabbed his bloodshot eyes, and within the silence of the place, a loud growl of his stomach was heard. His mother had always been the one who brought him food and fed him. There obviously was no penny on him, and he didn't have anyone to lean on. Feeling groggy, he stood up with his weak knees to mindlessly search for something to tame his stomach.

Walking past a few stalls that were preparing to open their business from early morning, his eyes landed on a tiny figure in between the garbage. A filthy looking boy younger than him was busily digging in the mountain of garbage at the side of the street, probably in search of food.

What choice did a starving young child have?

Without looking at the other further, Taehyung started to look for something edible. Ravaging through rotten vegetables and dirty cloths, he found two cracked colourful pebbles. He automatically rolled them on his palm, closed it once, with one disappearing, closing it again, making it reappear.

It was the first trick he had performed for his mother. The difference was that his hands were quite bigger now, that he could do it with one hand. Three years had passed since then, but for Taehyung, it was as if it happened yesterday. At the back of his eyes, he could see his mother smiling ever so brightly, proud of her son, praising him endlessly.

Tears began to pour from his eyes, as though a dam inside had broken. He was crying for the first time after his mother's death. He couldn't believe there wasn't someone who'd praise him, who he wanted to please with his magics he so carefully studied. He missed her. She was all he had. But she wasn't there anymore.