ATTEW – Chapter 7

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth—tears for tears.
Hwajin said that since Eunho was small, she had to toughen up so people wouldn’t look down on her, so they wouldn’t treat her carelessly. If there was some uncle who sneered and called her a rat bastard, then refused to pay her for an errand…
[“Headbutt him, or rip at him with your hands—whatever it takes, land one hit.”]
[“Rip what?”]
[“His balls. Then he’ll scream and crumple, yeah? That’s when you run. If a bastard tries to cheat a kid out of errand money, he can be a eunuch for all I care.”]
…It was Hwa-jin who taught her how to fight back.
If any auntie or uncle tried to touch Eunho’s body without permission…
[“Whether you’re a girl or a boy, there’ll be bastards who try to touch you. If you’ve got tits, bite the tits. If you’ve got balls, kick the balls. Bite, tear, whatever—then run. And hide that you’re a girl until you can’t hide it anymore.”]
[“Why do I have to?”]
[“Why do you think so? Look at how I live. You think I thought I’d end up like this? I used to want to be an actress. A boss bastard told me I was pretty as hell and he’d make me a celebrity—who knew he’d take my virginity and dump me in a hostess bar? Eunho, life’s something you can’t predict. You think being pretty is good? If you’ve got no money and no power, being ugly is better.”]
…It was she who said that, too.
Right. So don’t cry. Don’t cry. If you cry, you look pathetic. This isn’t the time to cry. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth—tears for tears. You have to lunge at the bastard who made you angry and sad and hurt.
A thought struck Eunho like lightning. Her gaze snapped to the Dog-Tattoo Bastard. She wiped her tears, bit down on her small lip, and stood. But he wasn’t looking at her.
He scanned the women beyond the wall—pointing fingers, cursing him—then took one step back, then another. When he’d put some distance between himself and Hwajin, he spit—khah—ptui—and yelled in a trembling voice.
“Fuck—what rotten luck!”
Eunho fixed her eyes on his wrist as he backed away. The tattoo that flashed with every movement—she stared at it until it burned into her mind.
As if his shout had lit a fuse, the women trapped behind the wall pressed themselves to it, stretching their arms out and screaming.
“You murdering bastard! I saw it all! I saw you kill Eunho’s mom!”
“I didn’t kill her! Fuck—I didn’t!”
With that, he turned and ran. The back of his head, the way he ran as he tore down the slope—Eunho glared after him like she meant to kill.
“That bastard’s running! Sangho! Put Gomchi Uncle on! Tell him that pimp uncle’s running down the alley—tell him to catch him! There’s been a killing here!”
“The Hole House woman’s dead! I don’t know! Looks like she got shoved when she went to him over five thousand won! No! Why should I—!”
“Yeah! Eunho’s mom—she’s dead, I think! I’m telling you, she is! Hurry up here!”
“Eunho! Come here! Come this way!”
“Eunho! Eunho!”
Eunho ignored the woman’s shrill cries and branded the man’s retreating figure into her eyes. Only when he vanished from sight did she kneel back down beside Hwajin.
More snow had piled up. Eunho gently brushed it from Hwajin’s arms and legs, from her chest. She didn’t notice her small hands turning red. She didn’t notice people gathering below. For a long time, she just kept brushing at Hwajin’s body.
Then she lay down over Hwajin’s stomach and covered her. She was so small she could only cover that much, but she stretched her arms out, spread her fingers wide, doing everything she could to make herself bigger. Hwajin’s body was growing cold.
Mom hates the cold. She’d say she’d pinch pennies for rice, but never for briquettes.
If she hated the cold that much, why come to a cold place? No—Eunho could guess. The only thing Hwajin knew how to do was sell her body, so in her own way, she’d searched for a red-light district where she and her “son”—her “daughter”—could manage to put down roots.
“Mom… aren’t you cold?”
Maybe she wasn’t, thankfully. Hwajin’s body was cooling, but it didn’t shiver at all. Instead, Eunho’s body shook. Rubbing and massaging Hwajin’s limbs to hold onto what little warmth remained, Eunho suddenly thought the way Hwajin’s eyes were wide open was strange.
She’d never seen a dead person, but she’d seen dead mackerel.
Hwajin’s eyes were exactly like that.
Unless she was drunk, Hwajin’s eyes always brimmed with life. Now they were dull and empty. Staring into those unfocused pupils, Eunho’s vow not to cry began to crumble—because she wasn’t reflected in them. Fear pried her sobs loose again.
“H-hngh—Mom, Mom…!”
In the end, Eunho burst into loud, heaving sobs. The bastard who should’ve paid her back for her rage and grief had run away—so she couldn’t help it. She cried with a roar, like the day long ago when she’d been abandoned under the snow, wailing and wailing.
It was the second day in her life she’d cried this much. No—maybe it was the day she’d cried the most she ever had.
As Eunho sobbed until her throat hurt, the police came. An ambulance came. It felt like everyone in Night Pass gathered.
Eunho tried to run after Hwajin as they loaded her onto the stretcher and carried her away, but—at some point—the owner of [Night Pass Super], Myeongok, was behind her and grabbed her tight.
No matter how she thrashed and screamed for her mother, she couldn’t break free of Myeongok’s hard grip.
“Hwajin, you bitch. This morning you had all that fire—so what, you just die now? If I’d known you were gonna die today, I’d have yanked less hair out. I shouldn’t’ve said you’d get your head cracked and die. Why did it have to be—why did it have to be…….”
Wiping her tears and sniffling, Myeongok shook her head while holding Eunho. The people gathered around sighed, faces twisting.
“They say a poor woman’s pretty face only tangles her fate. Hwajin, your fate really was something, damn.”
Hearing the lament spill out like that, Eunho kept crying. Hic—hic, even as she watched the ambulance pull farther away, calling for her mother.
“Hwajin, in your next life, be born rich and live pretty. This filthy world—over five thousand won, for fuck’s sake. Ah, fuck.”
Myeongok blew her nose—honk—and kept sniffling for a long while after. Beside her, Eunho cried for a long time too, calling, Mom, Mom, not even feeling the cold.
***
In the pitch-black night, Eunho stepped into the Guhyeongjip without turning on a light, then whirled around. Myeongok, following her inside, scowled. ‘The little brat’s getting looked after and still has the nerve to glare,’ she clicked her tongue, saying she’d known since Eunho stole bread that morning without even a hint of shame.
“What—who are you to touch my mom’s cash tin!”
“You little rat bastard. I told you to be quiet! Who said I’m touching it? I asked where it was!”
Myeongok’s scolding was almost a whisper. Even so, her eyes kept darting around, busy checking their surroundings.
“Why do you care?”
“Why do you think so?! I need to know so I can help you! You—you can’t live here anymore. You know that?”
“Why can’t I? This is our house!”
“How is this your house! You know this whole alley belongs to that pimp bastard in House Number 7 down there, right? Your mom was paying him rent, month after month, for the privilege of renting this place and this shop.”
“So what!”
Eunho knew that, too. Hwajin didn’t trust banks, so she hid cash around the house. At the end of every month, she’d roll up a wad of bills, wrap it with a rubber band, tuck it into her cleavage, and head out.
To House Number 7—the pimp everyone said was the scariest in Night Pass. Every time, Hwajin told Eunho to watch the shop while she went to pay rent.
[“Fuck. I hate getting hit, but he always—goddamn it.”]
And she’d come back hours later, lips split, shuffling. Once a month like that, Hwajin went to bed early, rubbing at her hips, groaning in her sleep. For the next two days, she wouldn’t take customers—only sell goods—and she could barely sit, her ass aching.
“You poor thing—that’s exactly why this isn’t your house. You’re gonna get kicked out. That bastard will take what he can take—he’s not gonna refund a deposit, so before he barges in, you need to grab anything worth money.”
“…….”
“If those uncles with no blood and no tears get their hands on you, you’ll get sold off somewhere with nothing but the clothes on your back. So pack what you can. And don’t go thinking you’ll come back later to thank me.”
Watching Myeongok with suspicious eyes, sniffling through small sobs, Eunho crawled under the counter and pulled out the cash tin.