I Hear Your Voice by Young-ha Kim

Author:Young-ha Kim
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

22

In the spring, the motorcycle gangs gather under Wonhyo Bridge or around the Yeoido riverfront. On one of those spring days Mokran picked up Jae and headed for the bridge.

“What’s around there?” he asked.

“The biker gangs,” she replied.

“Why do they hang out there?”

“Some volunteers give them free advice.”

“So the crews go there to get help?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what?”

“They give them instant noodles,” she said. “At first they started to go for the noodles, and after a while, it became a kind of meeting point for them. You know people like going where the crowds are.”

It was nearly midnight when kids started showing up. The motorcycles that gathered under the bridge were a diverse group. Beyond the pricey Harley-Davidsons and BMWs, there were ramped-up cheaper models, and even bikes with pizza-chain logos and delivery boxes attached to them.

I joined them on my delivery bike. Jae was wearing a black wool coat that hung loosely from him, so I commented, “You shooting The Matrix?”

Jae just grinned. Mokran was in skinny jeans and a flimsy cardigan.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked.

Mokran pouted. “You’re always talking about the cold, like an old man.”

Some kids approached her, said hello, and left. Jae, who was standing beside her, also got their attention. The riders were smoking in teams, like soldiers about to go to war. Girls hoping for a ride were wandering around in groups of four or five. When the girls saw Mokran, they tried to stay out of her way.

Jae said, “I’ll take a quick look around and come back.”

He kept a safe distance as he roamed around the groups, which kept up their guard by giving him fierce glances. The motorcycles were huddled together, making guttural growls like wounded animals. Sometimes rock music or hip-hop blasted from a woofer at high volume. There were even kids who spat generous globs at Jae as he approached.

Much later, Jae recalled, “I felt like the kids had been waiting for me. They were snarling like a pack of dogs, but it was as if they were about to lower their tails and accept me if only I came closer. I also heard a voice. It told me: Join them and become one. Lead them and take them somewhere greater. Something like that.”

He knew that the hundreds of two-cylinder combustion engines assembled under the bridge were just as excited as their young drivers. Like cavalry horses mounted for war, they heaved as if eager to gallop ahead. Most of all, Jae fervently desired to communicate with these impulsive machines. If only he could drive on one of them, he would be more intimate with them and his body would become a machine, and the machine, his body. He felt as if he had been transformed again into the burning scooter when the dogs had run free.

After midnight the mood around Wonhyo Bridge became wilder. One group made deafening noises as they headed downtown, and other groups followed. Kids killing time by filling out a local government survey also returned to their motorcycles, and one by one, revved up their engines.

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