calfhood

“You couldn’t keep him.”

Gubo seemed unaffected by the other man’s words. In fact, Dongrang swore he saw a smile on his face. 

Gubo’s face, which he had studied intensely.

Gubo’s face, always blank, eyes intense behind red windows, free from concepts like regret and pity.

Gubo’s face, never showing anything, never betraying itself to any emotions.

Gubo’s face was curled in a smile, a sly smile, a hawk ready to leap into the sky with its catch. A hawk that caught a crow in its grip, bit at it, nipped at the feathers. A hawk that lost its prey, but would always leave its talons deep in its side.

“Neither could you,” this hawk finally replied. He looked into Dongrang’s eyes, keeping them locked. “You never could.” 

The bull was too large for the hawk to catch, and even if he could, what joy could come from eating it? The bull’s flesh is too thick, too meaty, it would take far too long to pick apart. Animals like him were better off feasting upon grass in pastures and dying quietly. 

It could never catch a crow. 

Nevertheless, he kept that desk open. He kept Yi Sang’s name on it, hoping every day he would come back to him and work alongside him. 

“He never came,” Gubo commented, brushing dust off the top of the white desk. “And he never will come.”

“You don’t know that.” Dongrang sounded almost desperate. “He’s free. His wings have spread. He’s — he’s free from you. He can come flying back to me whenever he wishes.”

“But you know he won’t, don’t you? You’re lying to yourself.” The bright lights of the laboratory shone down on Gubo as he adjusted his glasses. “You’ve always been like that; denying it all. And I know your secret, too.” 

Dongrang didn’t respond.

“You ratted them out. You’re just like me, Dongrang.” 

“I’m nothing like you.”

Gubo chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Why? Why in the name of the Wings did Dongrang decide to call him over? Especially so late at night. He couldn’t even muster the breath to defend himself. He couldn’t get himself to ask Gubo to leave, either. 

“You ruined him.”

“You would have done the same.” Gubo pulled up a glove that was becoming loose; a hawk preening itself clean. He stared at Dongrang, stared at the bull ready for the slaughter; the calf that denied all. “Wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t have ruined him.”

“Yet you did.”

Dongrang was about to respond again, another denial, another low of the bull that never truly left calfhood. Yet Gubo cut him off, his smile vanishing. “You pushed him right into my grip, Dongrang. I wouldn’t have been able to have him if it weren’t for you.” He stood closer to Dongrang, who backed away until he hit the wall. “For that, dear Dongrang, I thank you.” 

“Get out,” Dongrang spoke under his breath. “I never should have invited you.” 

“Yet you did,” Gubo said once more. “And I think I know why. You wanted to know how to keep our dear Yi Sang under a spell, didn’t you?”

“I’d never want that. I love him.”

Gubo turned around. He adjusted his glasses once again. “I did too.” 

“No you didn’t. What you did wasn’t love.”

“And what you did was?” 

Dongrang felt his stomach drop. He felt his breathing get heavier and his heart rate go up. “Get out,” he repeated. “Get out, get out, get out!” 

Gubo smiled once more.

“Okay, my old friend. But I’ll see you again.”