The Banner
Youngsoon walked around her neighborhood and looked for a perfect spot to put up a hanging banner. She paid 55,000 won for the coated polyester banner as she asked for the best quality materials. Her friends wouldn’t believe she didn’t haggle for a discount.
“Congratulations, Minhoo Park — the son of Youngsoon Kim — for passing the bar examination,” the banner said. There was no family picture or colorful graphics on the banner. Just big words on a white background. The banner was wide enough to be read a hundred meters away.
The banner was made, but Youngsoon didn’t want others to think she was bragging. She only hoped a few neighbors would encounter the news so that the words could spread like a fresh rumor of an affair.
After scouting for about twenty minutes, Youngsoon decided to attach the banner next to the entrance of a small alley in front of her house. Only a handful of people walked through the path as it was a hidden shortcut to the town’s biggest marketplace.
Youngsoon took a picture of the banner while a young man finished the installation. “Is that rope tied properly? Before you go, make sure it’s not skewed,” she said. She would have to wait another two days to see her son standing in front of it.
“Unnie, now you can finally quit this job. What are you going to do next?” Younghee said. Younghee and Youngsoon worked together as janitors at the biggest meat factory in Korea. For twelve years, they sat next to each other for lunch.
Younghee and Youngsoon called these lunch breaks “psychotherapy sessions” because they nodded and empathized with all the worries and struggles of each other. Similar to therapy, the conversations—especially the ones with tears—were kept secret from the outside world.
“I don’t want to stop working. We all know staying home doing nothing is the real punishment. My son should live not worrying about an old mother,” Youngsoon said. She thought of Younghee’s family—an alcoholic husband and a 34-year-old son without a job—and said no more of her lawyer son.
“Younghee-ya, I’m not going anywhere. Don’t ever think of kicking me out of this job.” Youngsoon stood up and gently massaged Younghee’s shoulders. The 61-year-old hands still had a stronger grip than most teenagers in the country.
The hour-long “therapy” was over, and they both headed back to filling sausages. “One more day,” Youngsoon thought. Minhoo would come and see the banner.