Keys

“You ready?” She smiled warmly at me.

I take a deep breath as I fiddled with the keys in my hands. I narrowed my eyes. “Give me a minute.”

Nostalgia was filling me up, but I know I had to do this. At least one more time.

~

I unlocked the door with the familiar keys. It opened easily, as it always did.

I stood at the threshold and stared at the front step. As I did, nostalgia was winning. Memories were coming back. I remembered the first present you gave me after our wedding. We were at the mall and I asked you to buy it for me. But you grew angry and said that I was such a brat to ask for such an expensive book. But the next day it was on the front door, wrapped with a pink cloth and the card with it said “*Yeobo, I saw it somewhere else. It was cheaper.”

I entered the house. The furniture was covered with white cloth. They felt so sad as I stared at them. I looked around the living room.

I stared at the sofa covered with the cloth. I could still see it underneath, no matter how opaque the cover is. I could still see us laughing there. Those times when you would nag me all afternoon just because I left the door of our bedroom open the night before, I slept in front of the computer and I kept you waiting for me to come up the other night, and for so many petty reasons. You were always the nagger. But I liked it that way.

I turned to the kitchen. I couldn’t forget that day when you slapped my hand because I almost got myself burned. But you didn’t let go of my hand until we reached the hospital. I knew you were overreacting, because I wasn’t burned at all. But to spare my ears from your nag, I agreed to let the doctor see my uninjured hand.

I caught sight of the working table in the kitchen. I remembered the time when I dozed off in that table and when I woke up, you were staring at me with a gentle expression I’ve never seen in your face before.

The next part I stared at was the area where the stove used to be. The packed lunch you brought me one day at work was coming to my senses once again.

I turned my gaze toward the stairs. I missed that piggy back ride you gave me when I sprained my ankle because of the high heels I wore at work. You scolded me when I entered the door, limping. But you suddenly bent in front of me, and took my hands over your shoulder and said angrily “Come on!”

I sighed as the memories were giving me this funny feeling. I was missing you again. But I know I shouldn’t be.

I turned my heels and headed to the door. I locked it, without taking another glance inside the house.

As I was about to step away from the door, my phone beeped. It was a text message. I knew it was not from you so I ignored it.  I remembered the time I called you late at night and you were so mad at me for disturbing you. But less than a minute later you were telling stories about your day at work. I miss your voice. But I know I shouldn’t be.

I walked toward the car. She was waiting for me.

“Now Andy, are you ready to go home?” I looked at my mom with sad eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. If you hadn’t eloped with him, you wouldn’t be forced to go abroad, and he wouldn’t have lost his mind when we took you away. We didn’t raise you just to be that kind of girl.”

I didn’t know what to say. Every word was true. Kim wouldn’t be in a miserable Mental Asylum now if I hadn’t eloped with him, if I was just prudent enough not to give in to his childish and impulsive ideas, if I hadn’t been such a fool.

I managed a little nod and went inside the car. As my mom drove away, I look at the reflection of our home in the rear mirror and continued to fiddle with the keys in my hands.

*Yeobo – means ‘honey’ in Korean

MVJLO 09.03.2010