Page 30 of Perfect Happiness

Eun-ho went into the master bedroom to change outfits. He put on a workout shirt and pants and a padded jacket. He packed his bag with his wallet, phone, and laptop. Just as he was walking out of the study with his car keys, he saw Wife enter the living room.

“You’re home early,” she said.

She looked a bit surprised. She was holding a large basket in one hand. It looked like she had just gotten back from the grocery store.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked as she placed the basket on the dining room table.

“I’m going to the hospital.”

“What?” Wife asked with a concerned look on her face. “Are you not feeling well?

“No. I’m just going to the sleep clinic.”

Aha . . . Wife nodded.

“I understand. That’s a good idea. You haven’t slept in a week.” As she pulled items out of the bag, she added, “Hurry home. I’m cooking something delicious.”

“I won’t be coming back tonight. I need to stay overnight for the test.”

Wife’s hand became frozen inside the bag. Her eyes turned to him.

“What kind of test requires you to stay the night?”

“It’s a test that records my activity while I’m asleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Eun-ho moved his bag to his other shoulder and headed for the front door.

“Why are you taking such a test?” Wife asked as she walked after him. “Did the police order it?”

Eun-ho said yes.

“Did the autopsy results come back yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Then why are they asking you to take this test?”

Instead of answering, Eun-ho took out the business card from his pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes scanned the card before returning to his face. She was waiting for him to explain.

“Two detectives came by the house earlier looking for you. They want you to give them a call.”

“For me?”

A strange look flashed across Wife’s eyes. It disappeared so suddenly that Eun-ho couldn’t be sure, but it looked like trepidation.

“They said Joon-young’s gone missing. Since last Tuesday.”

Eun-ho opened the shoe closet, and as he looked for his sneakers he glanced back at Wife.

She was staring down at the business card with an unsettled look on her face.

While he was curious what it meant, he was just thankful that the business card was acting like a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Eun-ho closed the front door, being careful not to make a sound.

He started his car and headed for the hospital.

The first stage of the study was easy. They measured his height and weight, calculated his BMI, asked about underlying conditions and drugs he was currently taking, then explained the study procedure.

They also gave him a sleeping pill in case he needed it.

By the time this was all done, he had two hours left before the start of the study.

Eun-ho killed time in the first-floor café.

He ate a piece of cheesecake as he looked up articles on sleep disorders.

The cake was the consistency of Vaseline, but he was able to wash it down with a soda.

Eun-ho wasn’t hungry, but he would need to feed his brain if he wanted to continue thinking clearly.

8:30. Eun-ho went into the exam room in the annex. The nurse led him to the sleep room. It felt like a business hotel. Small, clean, dark, and quiet.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

The nurse left the room. They didn’t say it explicitly, but it seemed like they were giving him time to shower, change into the gown, and use the bathroom.

Eun-ho meticulously prepared himself. He removed everything that would interrupt his sleeping.

He turned off his phone, took off his watch, and even removed his ring.

Once he lay on the bed, the nurse came back to start attaching the electrodes.

The nurse attached wired patches to his head, forehead, and temples.

She also stuck what looked like tubes of oxygen into his nose, strapped two belts around his chest, and attached sensors to his fingers.

Finally, she put a bottle of water on the table next to the bed.

“Here’s some water for you.”

Once the nurse turned off the light and left, Eun-ho closed his eyes. He thought about the “How to fall asleep in two minutes” video he watched on YouTube earlier. Relax your body. And repeat the following as you take deep breaths: Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t . . . think . . .

Eun-ho’s thoughts burst like fireworks in the night sky.

Every time Eun-ho said the words “Don’t think” to himself, another firework would go off, brighter and more brilliant than the last. The sensor on his finger felt like it was crushing his fingernail.

And the belts on his chest were constricting his breathing.

Eventually, Eun-ho took the sleeping pill.

He tried to suppress his heavy breathing as he waited desperately for sleep to come.

Eun-ho was finding it hard to breathe. A puttering sound was coming from deep inside his lungs as though he were a machine that desperately needed oil. And then he saw Noah.

Noah was thrashing as Eun-ho crushed him. Noah was trying to push Eun-ho off him. Noah’s purple lips were searching for air.

Eun-ho trembled. He felt like he was about to have a seizure. He wanted to pull off all the sensors and run out of the room. He clenched his teeth and glared at the infrared camera.

Eun-ho had thought they could live happily ever after. If only he had endured for a little while longer, the four of them would be living a normal life under one roof. That’s all he wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. Was that really too much to wish for?

Eun-ho closed his eyes. A white hand appeared and disappeared inside his mind. And something occurred to him.

That night, did I turn off the light before falling asleep?

*

“There’s nothing that sticks out to me,” the doctor said.

Eun-ho looked at the monitor on the doctor’s desk. On it was a graph that Eun-ho couldn’t read.

“You never stopped breathing, nor did you have any unusual movements. Although, I wouldn’t say that your quality of sleep was particularly good.”

He explained that Eun-ho had frequent interruptions to his sleep; he either woke up or had muscle movements. And his dreams lasted for a long time.

“Is there anything else you want to know?”

Eun-ho asked first what he was most curious about.

“You said I move a lot while I sleep. What kind of movements are we talking about exactly?”

“You toss and turn. Specifically, you like turning to your right to lie face down.

Eun-ho’s tongue felt dry. Noah had been on his left. Eun-ho was afraid of the answer, but he asked his next question anyway.

“Do I ever turn left?”

“No.”

The definitive nature of this answer caught Eun-ho off guard.

“You only turn to your right. It’s a bit unusual.”

“I didn’t turn left once?”

A suspicious look appeared on the doctor’s face. It looked like he wanted to know why Eun-ho was so hung up on not turning left. Eun-ho gave the doctor a plausible reason for his curiosity.

“I sleep with my baby, and I’m always nervous that I might smother him. Do you think I should put him on my left when I sleep?

Aha . . . The doctor nodded.

“If he’s a newborn, yes, I would suggest putting him on your left. And leave a bit of room between yourself and him. Although, there are no guarantees in life. Have you thought about a crib?”

“He’s not a newborn, he’s five. But he’s frail.”

This made the doctor laugh. It was obvious that he thought Eun-ho was being ridiculous.

“Five? Then you have nothing to worry about. A better solution might be getting him his own bed.”

Eun-ho thought of the first time he slept with Wife.

It was about a month after returning from Russia.

The morning after, Wife was furious. She asked why he slept with his back turned to her.

She said she felt like he had cut her off, like she had been abandoned.

She said she even felt insulted. After that, Eun-ho tried to hold her while they slept.

But it didn’t help. Every morning when he woke up, he was always sleeping with his back to her.

Now he knew why. He had a preferential direction when turning in his sleep. If Wife had ever slept on his right, they would have woken up facing each other or in each other’s arms. Somewhat absurdly, they had never tried switching sides. It seemed they hadn’t given it much thought.

Eun-ho’s thoughts trailed off as he began thinking about the message Wife had shown the police. There was a good chance the message was a lie. Eun-ho trusted science more than he trusted people.

But why? Why would she send him that text message? It was as though she knew she would need it in a few months. Seeing the way his thoughts were getting out of control, Eun-ho suppressed his curiosity. Right now, he had more pressing questions. Questions he had paid money to get answered.

“I took the sleeping pill you gave me last night. Is it possible to be lucid after taking a sleeping pill? I felt like someone came into the exam room late last night. It felt like they were touching my fingers. I thought it might just be a dream, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Ah, yes. It was probably the nurse. The nurse usually goes into the room early in the morning to check on the patient. What we gave you was Zolpidem, which doesn’t have the sedation effects of benzodiazepines.

You might be lucid without being completely awake or aware of what’s happening.

Sometimes people will interpret things as dreams.”

Eun-ho could feel his pulse quickening. He had to make sure he heard the doctor correctly.

“You mean I might mistake things that really happened to me as elements of a dream?”

“Yes.”

“And, if I took more than one pill, could I still react to external stimuli? Like a light or something?”