The tomatoes were smaller than the normal ones. Their red, though, were like rubies that had started to melt in the sun.
The eggplants had a lovely body. The violet was as vivid as the ones that the oil pastel crayons of the same shade.
The cucumbers turned out to be longer and harder than normal. They were green like that of the leaves of an oak tree.
But right now they were all being swallowed down by two men with nothing better to do.
The acidic taste of the tomatoes were canceled when mixed with the eggplant broth and the chicken that the old man had brought last night.
The cucumbers were mixed with red chilli, lemon juice and salt.
The rice was rice.
Yoojun drank the soup, his eyes closed as he gulped every ounce of soup in the bowl. Chewing the chicken in between. But he drank it like it was water.
The old man ate some cucumber, the sound of the vegetable breaking clearly heard.
Both of them ate not one or two or three but four bowls of rice. Not a word was said. Just silent competition of who could eat more.
And Yoojun cleaned the bowls, not a spare drop left. Not a grain of rice remained.
Even the remaining cucumbers were crunched like he was a little boy who had forgotten manners.
They both had worked the whole day, picking and cutting the vegetables of their effort.
After a month of taking care, planting and growing, today was harvest.
And what better celebration than meals?
After that they sat outside with two chairs. Drinking beer that fizzed as though the majority of the yeast were still inside, fermenting.
The moon was white, silver, grey, or ivory.
None of the men knew, but it had a charm that made them look at it the whole night. Wondering if they could grasp it in their tiny eyes then keep it in.
But the thing about the moon is that it was never anyone's. Just like our lives. They are never just our's alone. We live through and for a lot of the people we knew, know or will so.
And right now the old man looked at Yoojun, whose head kept swaying, and smiled.
"Why do you always fall asleep in the wrong places?" The old man chuckled.
And so the next day Yoojun woke up with mosquito bites layered all around like a desperate lover's plea.
The old man was gone, Yoojun assumed he was out buying new seeds. Yoojun ate the breakfast the old man had made. It was just yesterday's feast heated up.
This time Yoojun tasted how the broth was thick and yet smooth. How it felt going down his throat.
He leaned back.
The old man recently had the habit of going out in the morning. He always bought some fertilizer back. So Yoojun assumed he was out for it, but it took him too long.
Yesterday, while both of them were sitting in the moonlit garden.
The old man called him, 'Yoojun' instead of 'son.' While he was not his son, his name felt alien in the old man's mouth. It almost made him go back to his old days.
Where his father's rough voice called him to every corner, then disappearing.
His own father.
Then what did he expect from a mother who had never given birth to him.
He had been remembering those days a lot.
He had cut his hands multiple times while taking care of the plants, while he was lost in thought.
He looked at the string bandages.
"Yoojun," The gate opened and the voice was recognizable. It was the most familiar voice for him
"Yes?" He asked without looking.
"Nothing, just wanted to make sure you were there."
"Why?"
"Because I am scared you will disappear." The old man walked in, a piece of paper in his hands.
"What do you mean?" Yoojun asked and the old man walked into his room, without looking at Yoojun.
"What I mean is, that one day, you or I will be all alone, and when that day comes." the old man paused. "Look inside the drawer."
While Yoojun understood what the man meant. The words hadn't quite settled in. So he nodded.
Because that's what he did, when he didn't understand.
And slowly the old man got lost too.
It was like both of them were in their own worlds together. The old man would mumble words he did not understand.
He would stand behind Yoojun, his arms no longer had the strength to carry his wife's beloved hoe.
It was as though the meal was the last one, the last one they had together.
As though the harvest was the waiting period. For the vegetables to rot.
But while Yoojun knew something was wrong. He hadn't pieced it together.
Not until the old man spit out blood. And then smiled. His teeth yellow and red. As though he had been chewing tobacco. His teeth smaller than what he remembered them as.
And soon he understood what was wrong.
When the old man would not wake up.
He pushed and shoved.
And the man woke up frantically, as though he was falling inside a dream.
Yoojun looked at the old man, the old man who for a second did not hold any familiarity in his eyes to Yoojun.
Then a second later he smiled. His teeth were even smaller.
The next time the old man called him 'Yoojun' was the last he ever called anyone.
It was when they were looking at the moon.
And Yoojun glanced at the old man.
How the older man looked like he could be seen through. As though he were a ghost. And maybe the real old man had died.
"Yoojun, the moon has many phases." The old man stated in a solemn manner.
"My favorite is when it's full." He laughed, "Because my wife grew up to be round–like the moon."
"Yeah." Yoojun did not know what else to say. He did not even know who he was at that time.
"The moon is beautiful because it is not always full."
"It is beautiful because it changes."
"Those were all beliefs my wife had. And now I do too."
Yoojun did not speak a word the whole night.
And the old man stopped going out in the morning.
The old man stopped talking.
He would sit on the floor, reminiscing about a life Yoojun knew nothing about.
Now they were in two worlds, all alone.
The old man had picked up on his habits. And refused to eat.
He wondered if it was revenge weaved into whatever it was.
Then one day the old man sat and sat and sat.
Yoojun was so used to the silence, only noticed when the body started to rot.
When he went to the body. He felt the cold of the blood not flowing. He felt it against the heat of his heart beating.
And Yoojun looked at the body.
"You should have just said goodbye normally, you old idiot." Yoojun chuckled.
Then he looked at the moonless sky.
"I should have been scared of you disappearing too."