note: ten-part series continued! | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

If the toilet was a time machine, he would already have flushed himself. Instead, he looked below and saw pieces of brown in a yellowed lake. The noise of water spinning into the abyss did not send him back in time, but it did clear the toilet of his refuse.

Last night was his father’s sixty-second birthday. He met his parents at Dae Dong on 32nd Street, the only place he felt his parents ever went to whenever they came to Koreatown. He bought for his father a leather-bound copy of Foucault’s Madness and Civilization : A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason which he had found at Strand Books that morning.

“Oh, this is one of my favorites,” his father told him. “I’ll definitely put it in the collection and retire that worn out paperback .”

They ordered naeng myun and haemul pajeon. He remembered the days when they used to order endless amounts of kalbi and samgyupssal and see who could stuff the biggest ssam into their mouths.

“Let’s have an OB, Dad,” he said.

His father searched his mother’s face for approval. She was indifferent and picking away at the kong namul, one of the assortment of banchan on the table.

“Why not. It’s my birthday! Not too many more of these left!” his father said cheerfully. His father had always made references to his waning days ever since his son beat him in arm wrestling as a fifteen year-old. “Take care of your mother when I am gone,” he would say to his high school son from time to time. Now it was about time his son had his own son, or so he thought from time to time.

The naeng myun came and silence reigned as the family of three worked their way through the noodles, the boiled egg, and pieces of pear. He then looked up at his graying parents.

“I’m going to quit my job next week.”

“Really. What are you going to do?” his mother asked.

“Move out of the city. Somewhere quiet. Find another job maybe. Or even go back to school.”

“School? Aren’t you a bit too old for that?” his father asked.

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet,” he said. His reply betrayed his easy annoyance with his parents’ skepticism. They knew better than to pick any further. He calmed down.

“I think I just need a change of scenery for a bit. I’ve saved up enough in the past few years so I can afford to explore different options,” he said.

“Oh. Will you move far?” his mother asked. “It’s okay if you want to. We won’t mind.” His mother had a way of inoculating against any expressions of sentiment with preemptive remarks.

“I don’t know. Maybe the West Coast.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re finally taking some action for yourself. I was beginning to wonder how much longer you’d stay with your job. An existential awakening perhaps? Learn to play golf!” his father said in a light-hearted manner.

“And meet a nice girl while you’re at it,” his mother added.

The waitress placed a small dish of sliced oranges along with the check on the table. He pulled his credit card out of his wallet.

“Happy birthday, Dad. Here’s to another healthy and happy year.”