Meeting Van Gogh (3)
Suddenly, it was the weekend.
I went to the port to meet Youngju, timing it with the ferry schedule.
The ferry from Jeju Island was quite large, carrying many tourists.
Finding Youngju among them wasn't easy, but I spotted her from afar amidst a crowd.
“Youngju!”
I waved frantically.
Youngju, peering at me with a covered face, realized it was me and ran over.
“Hey, you! Why are you out here! I told you to stay home! What if someone sees?”
“Haha, I have to greet a friend, right?”
“Are you crazy? It’s so crowded here, you madman. Let's go quickly.”
“We're all covered up, why so sensitive?”
“It’s better to be safe, hurry up. Where’s your car?”
“Car? What luxury! We're taking a scooter. It's a two-seater, so we can both ride. I rented helmets.”
“......”
Youngju looked at her luggage with a dumbfounded face.
“How am I supposed to ride a scooter with all this?”
“Wow, what a load of stuff. Are you here for a month-long stay?”
“Girls always have a lot of luggage!”
“You’re a girl?”
“Want to die?”
“Haha, alright. Let's rent another scooter then.”
“No taxis?”
“I don’t know, never seen one.”
“Damn it.”
Eventually, we loaded the luggage onto the scooter and walked slowly together.
Youngju seemed annoyed at the lack of taxis, but her mood quickly lifted as she admired the beautiful island, stepping briskly and saying,
“The air is so fresh! I’d love to live in a place like this someday.”
“Right?”
“Yeah, fishing here, eating sashimi, swimming in the shallow sea... it would be wonderful. Have you tried it?”
“I haven't tried fishing or swimming, but it seems like a nice place to live. Quiet.”
I pushed the scooter ahead, watching Youngju, who turned to me with a twirling motion.
The breaking waves, the sun scattering its light with the waves.
And beneath that, Youngju in a bucket hat and blue dress. Such a beautiful sight.
‘What am I thinking.’
Youngju is my friend.
Friends can fight and see each other again, but lovers may end up never seeing each other again. I want Youngju always by my side.
I popped the thought bubbles in my head and said,
“Being here alone makes me feel like Van Gogh.”
Youngju paused and looked at me.
“Van Gogh?”
“Ah, don’t think anything weird. I don't mean it in an extreme way. It’s like feeling like Van Gogh who traveled alone, painting.”
Youngju nodded, relieved.
“Do you paint?”
“I didn’t use to.”
“So, you paint now?”
“Yeah.”
“Was there a reason?”
You.
Because you said you'd come.
And the art gallery.
Waiting for a friend in the gallery, painting pictures to decorate my house, I admired that image of Van Gogh.
But I hid my true feelings and smiled.
“Nah, just because.”
“What kind of paintings?”
“Flowers.”
“You don’t paint flowers, do you?”
This kid knows too much about me.
“What, forgot about the painting that made me famous in Italy?”
“Ah, water lilies.”
I looked up at the sky while pushing the scooter.
“I don’t suffer from the past anymore. I’ve forgotten all about it. The pains of love, that is. And once I forgot, I started to see new beauties.”
“New beauties?”
“Yeah, like realizing how beautiful flowers can be.”
I thought it was a pretty cool thing to say.
But Youngju’s face crumpled up looking at me.
“That’s cheesy.”
“Ha-ha.”
“If you start sending me pictures of flowers every morning like some old man, I’ll kill you.”
“Ha-ha, are you dumb?”
“And don’t send pictures of the sunrise.”
“I sleep like a log at dawn, unaware of the world.”
“Don’t send sunsets either. In fact, if you send me videos of natural scenery or anything like that, you’re dead.”
“Ha-ha, do you think I’m a grandfather?”
“That’s better, hee-hee.”
Anyway, Youngju seemed pleased with my positive thoughts and turned to look at the island again. Having such a friend is a blessing.
On the way to our accommodation, we stopped by a sashimi restaurant.
It was run by a couple we visited on our first night here. I parked the scooter and said,
“The rockfish here is killer, have you ever tried wild rockfish?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, you have? Are you from a rich family or something?”
“What? I’ve only had it once. Is it good here?”
“Yes, it's fantastic. Let’s get it to-go.”
“Okay.”
The uncle, wearing only a running shirt, emerges with a knife in hand. Seeing me, he waves the knife cheerfully.
“Hey, you're back?”
Uncle, is waving a knife a greeting in any country? It’s scary.
“Hello, do you have rockfish? Wild ones?”
“Of course. Want some?”
“Yes.”
“Hold on. Who’s this with you?”
The uncle wipes his hands, steps outside, and looks at Youngju. Then he turns to me with a smirk.
“Look at this young man. He has such a pretty girlfriend. No wonder a young guy like you came alone, waiting for your girlfriend?”
What's he talking about? We’re just friends.
I hurried to clarify, but Youngju, ever so charming, hooks her arm in the uncle's and says,
“Right, uncle? I’m pretty, aren’t I?”
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