AAE -- For Better For Worse

Part 3 -- Chapter 25

by LoveCR2

edited by All-About-AAE

 

 

Hyung-Chul plods the streets of East London, checking shop windows for 'Help Wanted' signs. His 'white lie' had served its purpose -- a bluff to buy time. Now the clock is ticking.

 

The heat wave has not abated. The concrete sizzles under his soles. Perspiration beads his brow. His freshly washed and pressed shirt clings damply to his back.

 

Just months ago, he had corporate connections, a full office staff, and weeks for a job search that ended in failure. Now he has only pure gumption, shoe leather, and less than 24 hours to make good on his promise.

 

Not the temporary day labor jobs he'd taken in the past, but a real job. Nine-to-five, Monday to Friday. Something that lets him reclaim his dignity -- and his role as husband and soon-to-be father.

 

 

He enters shop after shop. Some turn him away with barely a word -- they might as well have hung 'No Foreigners Need Apply' to spare him the effort. Others hand him applications with polite indifference, making vague promises -- "We'll be in touch in a few weeks" -- after he'd wasted precious minutes filling them in.

 

As five o'clock approaches, his feet ache, his spirit sags, and he is no closer to a paycheck than when he started.

 

If he returns home empty-handed, Sun-Mi will know. See it in his face before he speaks -- promise broken, again, And she'll be out the door again, auditioning at another tawdry club.

 

 

Rounding a corner, he comes on a church. He pushes the heavy oak door open. Inside it is cool and dim. The late afternoon sun filters through stained glass windows with a warm, welcoming glow.

 

He sits down heavily in a pew at the back, letting the silence soak in. Had he been too cocky in his enthusiasm to reclaim his role as protector and provider? Or too desperate to keep Sun-Mi from stepping back into those shoes?

 

The parish is Anglican, not Catholic, but no matter -- God is the same regardless of the name on the building. He slides from the pew onto the kneeler, and bows his head.

 

"Dear God..." He pauses. It is easier with Sun-Mi at his side. God seems more approachable. More forgiving.

 

"I've messed up. Big time," he whispers. "I lied to Sun-Mi. And now I'm about to disappoint her, again..."

 

He sees her face -- eyes blazing, jaw clenched, neck veins bulging --  as the truth sinks in.

 

"Two miracles in 24 hours is a lot to ask. But if you could. Please." He looks up at the crucifix. "I'll take my lumps -- I deserve them. But not Sun-Mi, not the baby."

 

Hyung-Chul emerges from the church with a fresh spring in his step. A hopeful glimmer in his eyes. And a picture in his mind -- Sun-Mi feeding their child in a home he doesn't recognize. -- Is it a sign?

 

 

Back on the street, he walks on to the next intersection. There he sees a sign in the window of an aptly named shop, The Corner Bakery...

 

'HELP WANTED. EXPERIENCED APPLICANTS ONLY'

 

The rundown building, with peeling paint and a faded canvas canopy, is out of place among the trendy coffee shops and shiny new restaurants that predominate the storefronts. But the window racks are filled with samples of tasty-looking Korean and French breads, cakes, and pastries.

 

Taking a deep breath, he pushes through the door. The inviting aroma of freshly-baked bread wafts out.

 

 

A wiry, gray-haired Korean man, wearing a baker's white hat and apron, stands behind the counter.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

"I'm applying for the job, Sir."

 

The man glances at Hyung-Chul hands -- soft, uncalloused hands. "Experience?"

 

"Er... none. In a bakery, that is."

 

"I thought so." The man shakes his head. "The sign says experienced applicants only."

 

Hyung-Chul looks the man directly in the eye. "Give me one week. Let me prove myself."

 

The man points to the door. "Leave! Don't waste my time."

 

 

Just as Hyung-Chul turns away, a woman, dressed like the man, comes out from the back room. Older than the man, she is even shorter, barely tall enough to see over the counter display case. But she has a warmth in her eyes the man lacks.

 

Hyung-Chul gasps. "Auntie Lin? Is it really you?"

 

 

Auntie Lin squints, then smiles. "Well, what a small world! It's been, what, ten years?"

 

"Just eight."

 

She claps her hands together. "Oh... I'm forgetting my manners. This is my second husband, Choi An-Dal."

 

She turns to him. "Husband, this is Yoon Hyung-Chul. He often came to my old shop in Cambridge."

 

 

Turning back to Hyung-Chul again, she asks. "What happened to that pretty girl you brought with you that summer? What was her name?"

 

"Jin Sun-Mi... We married a few years ago."

 

"Auntie Lin nods. "I thought so. You always looked after her. Congratulations."

 

"Thank you, Auntie."

 

A smile spreads across Hyung-Chul's face. "Your pastries were her favorites. She always said they were a taste of home."

 

"Let me send something back to her."

 

"That's not necessary," Hyung-Chul replies. "I'll send her your greetings."

 

 

Choi An-Dal clears his throat. "This isn't a social visit. He's asking about the job."

 

Auntie Lin raises an eyebrow. "Is that true?"

 

"Yes. Give me a chance, please."

 

"I've already told him, no," An-Dal states coldly.

 

"The sign's been up for weeks!" she argues, raising her hands emphatically. "If he doesn't work out, we're no worse off."

 

"But he lacks experience," An-Dal quickly replies. "Not qualified."

 

"There's more to being qualified than experience. Skills can be taught. Character can't."

 

"We're short-staffed. Too busy to waste time training a newbie from scratch."

 

"At least he won't have to unlearn bad habits!"

 

 

As he listens to their bickering, Hyung-Chul decides he has to speak.

 

But first, he sends up a silent prayer, "If you want me to get this job, give me the right words, Lord."

 

Moments later, he smiles. "May I say something?"

 

"Of course," Auntie Lin nods.

 

"My wife is expecting. She's carried the burden since I lost my job. But now, with the baby coming, I need to step up."

 

Auntie Lin turns to her husband. "How can we call ourselves the elders of society, while denying the youth a chance?"

 

"All right!" An-Dal throws up his arms. "You're the boss! But don't say I didn't warn you!"

 

He stomps off, disappearing into the back room.

 

Auntie Lin smiles. "You'll have to work with that cantankerous old fool. Still want the job?"

 

"Absolutely! Thank you."

 

"When can you start?"

 

"I told Sun-Mi I'd start tomorrow."

 

"Why wait until then?" She looks around the shop. "This place needs a good sweeping. Apron and hat are by the back door, next to the broom."

 

"I'll get right on it."

 

"One more thing," she adds, "30 days probation. Half pay, while you learn the job. Hours are 3 AM to 3 PM, except Sundays when we're closed. Overtime required. You heard we're short staffed."

 

"I'll work hard, Auntie. You won't be regret it."

 

"I already know. It's why I hired you."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

She laughs. "Back in Cambridge, you were different. Not like the other students. Always respectful of your elders."