Chapter 12

Chapter 12

We shopped at Kmart — not that K of Korea — and in the mall parking lot finished even the emergency work on Rosie's clunking car.

"For now I've fixed everything that can be fixed roughly here. The rest, I'll give you a parts list, and you order it."

"Thanks! Jeong-su."

"And for a while drive it careful, the lower arm under the floor is past its life, so the part has hardened."

"Yes! Sir!!"

"Heh heh. Good. Now let's go eat lunch. What do you want?"

"Hm... I could just buy it."

Rosie still had that on her mind.

"I said it's fine. This much is really nothing. If you can't decide, want to go eat sushi?"

"Really!"

Taking her, smiling wide, we moved to a fairly upscale conveyor-sushi place in the city center.

"But there really isn't anything like arm sleeves and a cooling mask?"

"I told you there really isn't. Work in Australia with a mask on and they'll ask if you're sick somewhere."

Amazing.

Even if it wasn't popular in Korea, it must have been selling?

I remembered a laborer, when I was at the company, boasting that he had used it first from the early 2000s.

That meant cooling fabric had been developed before that.

"But why do you need something like that?"

"It's good for blocking ultraviolet. And even under the sun it's rather cool. It lets sweat out fast and drops the skin temperature. And it protects the skin in a place where dust flies."

"Hm... workers probably wouldn't use it even if it existed. It looks weak."

"Do you know how bad ultraviolet is for skin. Skin, once it's damaged, doesn't come back."

"Is that real? Being under the sun is bad? We tan under the sun every day."

"You didn't see that?"

"What?"

"A photo of a woman truck driver in America. Do you know what the face of a woman driver who drives long-haul trucks her whole life looks like?"

"What?"

"The window side where the sunlight comes in is a wrinkled grandmother's face, and the other side is a middle-aged woman's face, caught in a photo."

"Eek! Really that much?"

"I told you. So if you can, you avoid the sun too. When you go out, be sure to put on sunscreen."

Rosie looked at me as if amazed.

"How do you know so well?"

"Koreans are sincere about skin. Almost all of them are vampires. Uwaang!"

"Hee hee. Jeong-su is funny."

We went on talking while eating sushi.

I do not even know when I last talked with a woman like this.

I lived bleak, truly.

* * *

Belly filled solid like that, we headed for Parramatta Road, where Sydney's largest used-car lots are, for the mission proper.

2004, when searching for a car on a smartphone app could not even be imagined.

To buy a car you had to dig the Trading Post, the classifieds, no question, or walk the car yards of Parramatta Road yourself on two feet under the blazing sun looking for stock, Rosie explained.

To commute to the rough, dust-flying Wetherill Park warehouse, a crude, sturdy four-wheel drive like a Land Cruiser or a Pajero would be right, she said too.

But even spinning through several shops with hundreds of cars lined up, there was no one that pulled the heart hard.

"Ah, there's really nothing I like. Shall I pick an old classic, or one with a unique design, and fix it all and drive it?"

The year being old, the designs were all crude.

Then, hand on my forehead avoiding the sun, peering into shops here and there.

A white SUV set in a corner of some dealer shop caught my eye at once.

I walked to that car without a word.

"Jeong-su?"

Round headlamps, a crude and classic angled design that called up a Jeep.

A car a Korean could not fail to know, precisely the New Korando.

The interesting thing was that on the radiator grille, instead of the familiar SsangYong mark, a pig-nose Daewoo mark was stuck outright.

'What? Did Daewoo export SsangYong cars?'

I do not know what it is, but it was definitely a New Korando.

When I would not leave the front of that white car and lingered, Rosie came up as if curious.

"Huh? This car looks cute. The design is really unique? What car is it?"

"A Korean car. Made where I was."

When I answered with a short laugh, Rosie's face, which had been full of interest, hardened in an instant.

"What? A Korean car? Hmm······."

I know why she shows that reaction.

In 2004 a Korean car, even if it sold in Korea, on the overseas market was nothing more and nothing less than a car poor students rode for the cheap taste, and threw away when it broke.

Looking at that, the future Hyundai and Kia are tremendous.

A time when the prejudice was widespread that durability was wretched next to a sturdy Australian Holden or a Japanese Toyota.

Rosie glanced at my face, then carefully said her opinion.

"Jeong-su, it's your country's car so I want to say something good if I can······ but Australian dealers don't rate Korean cars much as used. Too many small breakdowns, they sit on the road all the time. However well you fix cars, isn't it too uneasy for commuting?"

This one doesn't know.

"Haha! You're right. I admit Korean cars of this period had wrecked quality too. But Rosie, that one is a bit different. Only the shell is Korean, the inside is a complete different breed."

Then a dealer who had found prey approached us, a flashy smile mounted.

"Hey, mate! You know how to look at a car! A one with a design that kills. Like it?"

"The design passes. Can I open the bonnet a bit?"

At my request the dealer confidently shouted of course and flung the hood wide open.

This car must not be selling much either.

I pulled Rosie to the front of the engine bay and pointed.

"Rosie, look well. Why this car is special, the heart in here is a second-generation KJ engine made by Mercedes-Benz. The nickname is phoenix engine, or million-kilo engine. It went into Benz commercial vehicles, so even if you manage it roughly it rolls a million kilometers easy, a luxury engine of crazy durability."

At my explanation Rosie opened her eyes round, and the dealer beside me tapped my shoulder and admired.

"Wow! You know cars? Right, the badge is Daewoo, but the engine and transmission and the duplex timing chain are a model with the Benz design set on as is. People who don't know cars ignore it as a Korean car, but this car is a hidden masterpiece, real strong, no small breakdowns!"

I stroked the heavy lump of iron in the engine bay and sank into deep thought.

A memory of the previous life rose.

In the time I was bitterly poor, grinding construction sites with teeth clenched, the first car of my life that I drew with my own money was precisely that white New Korando.

I dragged that one around the rough sites of all eight provinces, and even covered in dirt dust it was a sturdy comrade that had never once abandoned me on the road.

If not for the diesel-emissions rule, it was the sort of car I would probably have kept for life.

Soaked in the nostalgia of the past, I tossed it at the dealer.

"How much?"

"The condition is so good you have to give 12,000 dollars. But if you contract today, cash on the spot, I'll take some off clean."

I spun a calculator fast in my head.

Considering a good-year Toyota Land Cruiser series goes well over 15,000 dollars, a fairly reasonable price.

And under New South Wales law, buy a used car over 10,000 dollars from a dealer and a legal warranty of three months or 5,000 kilometers sticks by force, they say.

"Hmm..."

When I hesitated the dealer stepped in again.

"Have you heard of Silky Six?"

"Silky Six? Why?"

"Because this car is famous as a Silky Six."

"Huh!?"

I checked the engine again, startled.

A 3.2 print was stamped clear on the engine.

"Right! This is a gasoline car."

The 3.2-liter inline-six M104 gasoline engine, which went in the top lineup, is an engine that went into the Benz luxury sedan S-Class.

It had been half and half whether to buy, and like this the story changes completely.

I took the new work gloves I had bought earlier from my pants pocket and put them on both hands with a snap.

Then I grinned toward the dealer and Rosie.

"Then this one with a Benz heart, I can take it apart a bit and see if it earns its 12,000 dollars?"

"Uh······? Take it apart?"

The dealer, thinking a moment, nodded.

"Right. Look as much as you want."

The moment the dealer allowed it, I lay flat without hesitation on the hot asphalt of Parramatta Road and crawled in under the Korando's huge body.

From checking corrosion on the frame body, to underbody bushings, engine leaks, carbon residue in the exhaust.

'Hmm. The condition is really good?'

It seems they repaired it clean once before it came to market.

The tires are still more than half alive... there is no particular place to cut the price.

I checked the hood once more, went inside the car, pressed the brake, started it, and even worked the gear.

'Tsk. I just have to buy this car.'

"Good. You said 12,000 dollars?"

I said, taking out the money I had brought in my pocket.

Then Rosie caught my hand, tap!

"Why?"

"Wait. Mister."

"What is it, miss?"

The dealer took it as a joke.

But Rosie threw a neat question.

"How much rego is left on this car?"

"..."

The dealer suddenly had nothing to say.

Rosie, as if she had caught it, said, spirit high.

"How much is left?"

"A month."

"Wow! A month!? Unbelievable!"

What? How is this turning?

I really do not understand a thing.

"Of course you'll reflect that in the car price?"

"...Look. Miss. Even now it seems a cheap enough price."

"No. You have to take off at least 1,000 dollars."

"What! A whole 1,000 dollars? That won't do!"

At that Rosie turned without regret and walked to me.

"Jeong-su! Let's go."

"Uh... huh?"

"Let's go buy the Land Cruiser we saw earlier. Registering the rego on this car again, buying the Land Cruiser comes out cheaper."

I walked as if dragged, led by Rosie's hand.

Then Rosie whispered.

"... 3. 2. 1."

"Okay! 11,000 dollars!"

"Deal!"

"...Haha."

And so I was able to buy the New Korando for 11,000 dollars.

"You have to register the vehicle new, and pay the compulsory insurance again. Be sure to handle it next week."

"Thanks, Rosie. I bought it cheap because of you."

"Hee hee. With this the debt is all paid."

Damn. A halo was shining behind Rosie.

* * *

I ate dinner with Rosie too and came home.

On my finger the key of the newly bought car was spinning.

I opened the chicken-coop door and went in, and the eyes of the people packed in the kitchen and living room fixed on me all at once.

"...Huh?"

What?

In a moment the talk cut dead, and a suffocating silence pushed in from every side.

Wondering what on earth it was, I was flustered a moment, then soon decided to ignore it.

I had no thought of matching the beat of their eye fight.

I calmly gathered my things and shoes and headed straight for the veranda.

The eyes following at my back were persistent.

Even when I came out to the kitchen and took water from the fridge, even when I took a towel and came out of washing in the bathroom, the sharp looks kept following me.

To the end I did not ask what, and ignored their eyes.

And I went back to my own space and closed the door completely.

"Wow. Cold."

"He might have asked."

"..."

"...!"

From inside, sounds like admiration were heard again.

But I blocked my ears, leaned on the rail meeting the cool night air, and sorted the things to do on Monday.

Go to the RTA first thing in the morning, file the transfer documents, turn the vehicle registration to my name, and once I pay the stamp duty and tax too, another few hundred dollars will go out.

Adding this and that there is unexpected extra spending, but thanks to Rosie a lot of money was saved.

And a car set in the ground lot, one that fitted my heart.

"Heh heh heh. A jackpot."

Rattle.

Then the glass door opened and a girl came out quietly.

'What?'

I frowned and looked at her.

"Oppa, can I sit a moment?"

The unexpected word oppa from the woman's mouth.

What this is I do not know, but for now I nodded for her to sit.

She carefully set her hips on the edge of the mattress and sat.

For one, the looks were considerable.

So the first day Park Ji-hun would have panted, playing every trick.

'Did she say she was twenty?'

A complete kid.

When I stared without a word, the girl, whether burdened, fiddled her fingers and opened her mouth first.

"Thank you."

"Hm?"

"That day Oppa Ji-hun was too much of a burden. Thank you for helping then."

I nodded slowly.

She kept watching my face and went on.

"The reason I only came now... the others were pushing Oppa so hard, I couldn't bring myself to speak to Oppa first."

So something has changed now?

The eyes in the living room earlier too, something seems to have happened.

Park Ji-hun looked as if fire would come from his eyes...?

"Honestly I was scared. You can't get marked here. So I couldn't take your side. I'm really sorry."

The thought of surviving by watching eyes in a crowd, it is not that I cannot understand.

So I said it flatly.

"It's fine."

Once the situation settled, another curiosity and greed began to frost quietly in the woman's eyes.

"But Oppa, did you find a job? You seem to go around with an Australian. Is she a girlfriend?"

Whether she thought she had been forgiven, she tried to dig information out of me.

Girlfriend?

Did she see Rosie?

The questions did not end there.

"Did you buy a car, by any chance? Coming in earlier, you seemed to have a car key..."

She trailed off and leaned her body toward me, casual.

Blinking big eyes, playing pitiful and innocent to the full, but this shows too plainly.

The sound of a calculator spinning busy in her head seems to reach here.

The apology and the thanks were an excuse to approach, and what she wanted was a fast, convenient means.

And that means was me.

It was disgusting.

Her behavior called up the wife of the previous life and soured my mood.

I erased the faint smile that had stayed at my mouth and looked at her with eyes sunk cold.

"Hey."

"Ye... yes?"

"You being young and pretty, fine. Here that's a fairly usable weapon. Guys like Park Ji-hun, you give a bit of an eye-smile and they'll try to take out liver and gallbladder both. But that doesn't work on me."

I was had like that in the previous life, and I would be had again?

Just looking at a kid like you, it is only disgusting.

I did not bother taking that out in words.

But it had already all shown in the face.

It really was disgusting.

Her pupils began to shake fine.

"O, Oppa... I just..."

I cut her words, trying to make an excuse, firm.

"This is Australia. If you're going to make factions inside this narrow chicken coop and play an eye game of who to stick to, pack right now and go back to Korea. Don't think of grabbing someone else's pant leg and going easy. Find your job by running on your own two feet. That is how you survive on your own strength, and how you become a proper adult."

The face of the woman stabbed in the sore spot flushed red.

She, only biting her lip from shame and embarrassment, in the end with tears welling got up as if fleeing, opened the veranda door, and went in.

Beyond the closing glass door a sniffling was heard, but I did not mind it.

The sickening rank relations and the fatigue with people, unchanged even coming to Australia.

As expected, Korean kids are a burden.

© Log1#13yd6