Green left serious faces, yellow left serious faces, red left serious faces. Green center serious faces.
The midnight blue BMW convertible purred to life as Kim Tae Yeon accelerated to make a left turn. Black leather lined the seats and a sweet, intoxicating scent proliferated through the small space.
They had not said a word since entering the car, well actually, he did tell her to get out of the city, but nothing else.
The roads remained empty, during their temporary wait and even after she made a left turn. The Hobo now thought that she could have made the left turn much earlier. He decided to tell her this.
“You didn’t have to wait for the stoplight to change.”
“Sorry?”
“You could have just turned,” he said again.
“But, it was a red light. You can’t make a left turn on a red light,” she explained. Hobo’s probably didn’t have the luxury of driving.
“The stoplight only dictates the flow of traffic. You can’t be in traffic all by yourself.”
“Other cars could have come by,” she replied defensively.
“At 4:53 in the morning?”
“There are cameras stationed.”
“There will always be some sort of authority who hands out consequences. You have to decide whether or not it’s worth it.”
“Getting a ticket for a five minute wait isn’t worth it,” she said.
“Depends.” He shrugged and then faced the window. After 2 hours of driving, the skyscrapers finally began to recede in the distance, and more trees replaced them. Huge, towering, old and gnarling trees stood ominously among the paved cement.
Now no more lamp posts decorated the highway so that their serious faces abided unlit in the darkness.
Out of the silence Tae Yeon asked, “Why Istanbul?”
“Does there have to be a reason?”
“Of course there has to be,” she emphasized. “Everything has a reason. Everything needs a reason. Without reasons it’s meaningless. It’s pointless. There’s no depth, values.”
“Sometimes the reason becomes more important than the subject at hand. Even now, you’re more curious to know why instead of what I plan to do there.”
“The question of why precedes the question of how. You can’t plan what you’re going to do, if you don’t know why you’re going to do it. There’s a logical order, an-and relationships to everything.” For some reason, she found herself both exasperated yet unnerved by this strange hobo.
He just chuckled softly and then said, “My name’s Park Won Soo. Shouldn’t you have thought to ask that first then?”
She didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding.
“I told you before. I’m a free lancing writer.” Won Soo brought up his arms to cross them as he settled himself more comfortably.
“How did a free lancing writer end up on the streets begging?”
“Fundraising,” he corrected her. “It’s a long story, but since you spilled out your heart to me, might as well do the same.”
“You’re not going to ask why I did that?” Tae Yeon asked suddenly. He gave her a look that said really and she stayed silent.
“I first decided to be professional writer when I turned 22. I was in my junior year of college. The first two years were alright, some minor awards, enough to get by, but writing’s not a stale, static thing. It’s alive, and it changes. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. The next five years were hard, so I spent the last three fundraising.”
“And you never rationalized going back to college, or getting a real job?"
“No, I’ve never given up on my dream of becoming a recognized writer, an author. This trip to Istanbul is going to be the turning point. It’s going to be the miracle, the solution.”
Tae Yeon scoffed, her thin, pale wrist gripped the steering wheel as she used the other hand to support her face.
“There is no solution. Life’s not that simple,” she said bitingly, “and in the end, after you contemplate your choices over and over again, there’s only three options left. You can submit, for instance, just admit that you’ll never be a writer. Or, you can run away, which is what you are doing now, and just keep running while telling yourself a better day will come along. The last choice is to end everything.” Won Soo glanced at her as she mentioned the last option.
After a few seconds, he cleared his throat and asked, “And, have you considered the last choice?”
Her face hardened, and the dim blue lighting of the car gave her face a ghastly glow. She didn’t answer for the longest time, and Won Soo continued to observe her carefully.
Then at last she sighed as she pulled back her hair.
“No,” she laughed, “I’m not that stupid.” Her forced smile did not fool anyone.
“Are you scared of death?” The question made her gnaw at her lips as she once more resumed her serious manner.
“Yeah,” she said softly, “yeah I am. I think about it sometimes. What it’d be like to never wake up. Would we even know we were dead? Would it even matter? Not ever being able to think, no conscious awareness of the surroundings. And, if there’s anything next, or if we just cease to exist. If we really just become dirt.”
She trailed off, lost in wonder with the chasm that separates life and death. That wide, unknown chasm...
“Liar,” his steady voice interrupted her chain of thoughts.
She crinkled her eyebrows, offended at his down right accusation. He grinned slightly as he shrugged his shoulders.
“You wouldn’t be here, driving a Hobo to some distant place in the country, if you didn’t believe in simple solutions.”
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