Young-hee and the Pullocho (40 page)

“When did you know?”

“I started suspecting soon after we met. You were like a long-forgotten dream that had come to life, but I did not know what it meant. And, I was angry, too; I thought you hated me and had abandoned me. When did I know for sure? When you were holding Namgoong Mirinae's chioonchim and it pointed at me. She said it would point at the thing you most wanted, and I guess it did.”

As Samjogo—
no, Young-beom
, Young-hee reminded herself—talked, he rubbed at dirt on his face with the back of his hand. The gesture reminded Young-hee of her little brother, a simple action, yet filled with his essence. His eyes, nose, crazy hair—the more she looked, the more she saw Bum.

“I never hated you,” she said sadly. “It was just hard, coming back to Korea, losing my friends, losing dad…”

“Yeah, I know now,” he said.

“I was so alone and sad and angry that dad was gone. I didn't mean to…” What began as tears of relief and regret, broke open until she was weeping uncontrollably, her whole body shaking.

As she thought she'd lose the strength to stand, Young-beom put his arms around her—just as she used to hold him when he was little and crying.

“I missed you, Young-beom,” she said.

“I missed you, too, big sister.”

“So what's up with that streak of white in your hair?”

“I don't know. I just thought it was cool.”

As they hugged, Young-hee felt a warm stickiness on her brother's shoulder. “You're bleeding.”

“Yes, Gumiho cut me. It's not that bad.”

Young-hee ripped strips from the cloak from Grandma Dol, soaked them in the river she created from the blue vial, and cleaned the wound, wrapped the shoulder with one longer strip and applied pressure.

She had one last, big worry she didn't voice:
Now what?
She had her brother and a pullocho, but how could they escape Strange Land? And even if they got home, how could she explain a grownup Young-beom to their mom? Plus she worried about her new friends—Grandma Dol, Bassam, the jangseung. The raging river, now receding, had swept away most of the thorn bush and busted stalls, but a big mess remained.

As Young-hee and Young-beom celebrated their reunion, they noticed a man, bent with age, approaching.

“Hello, bear children.” He had a flowing white beard and wore a long, white hanbok.

“Greetings, Sanshin,” said Young-beom, bowing respectfully.

“Hello, sir,” said Young-hee. Recognizing the mountain spirit she bowed, too, but wondered,
Where have I seen him?

“My, what a fearful ruckus,” Sanshin said. Despite his venerable age and imposing presence, he had a youthful spark. “I'm pleased you both survived intact. Physically, at least. Although I understand there are other costs.”

“Yes sir,” said Young-beom, his awe of the great spirit rendering him atypically quiet.

“Your shoulder, it's hurt,” said Sanshin, touching Young-beom's shoulder lightly. The bleeding stopped.

“Hey, nearly as good as new,” Young-beom said, unwrapping the bandages to reveal pink but healed skin.

“It's the least I could do,” Sanshin said. “I owe you far more.”

“You owe us?” said Young-hee, surprised.

“Indeed. As do all the creatures in Strange Land,” he said, chuckling softly.

“Stra … That's what I call this place.”

“Yes, a good name, and easier than the mouthful the first spirits use; simpler than the grandiosities the young spirits prefer. Or the spirits who remain, at any rate.”

“Sanshin, I'm so sorry. So many died over this pullocho,” she said, taking the sacred root from her bag. It seemed right to offer it to the old spirit. “I never meant for any of that to happen. I just wanted to save my brother.”

“Do not be troubled, bear daughter. Gumiho has long schemed to become human and destroy both our lands. She used and manipulated you, but, in the end, with a bit of help from me, you saved us all. So I am guilty, too, of manipulations, and for that I am deeply sorry. That is why we owe you.”

“But so many are dead.”

“Yes, but they'll be back soon enough. Such is the way of Strange Land.” He touched the pullocho without taking it from Young-hee's hand. “I don't need any pullocho. I am of the mountains. My power is much older than animals or stories or even storytellers. You earned this pullocho.”

“But… What would I do with a pullocho?”

“Anything you want.”

“What if I ate it?”

“Hmm, interesting. I don't think a bear daughter ever has. Emperor Jin Shi Hwang sent three thousand warriors to find one, but died without succeeding.”

“I don't think I want to be the first. No, I give it to you freely, by the rules of hospitality.”

Sanshin smiled kindly. “That is very generous. I promise to keep it safe and only use it when most needed.” He took the pullocho from her hand and hid it in the folds of his hanbok. “If I could trouble you for a bit more help, do you have a pine cone?”

“I do, actually,” she said, rummaging through her tattered bag. At the bottom, beaten up and stomped, was the pine cone she had taken from the forest after her first night in Strange Land. “Here.”

“Thank you, bear daughter,” he said and buried it in the ground. “We owe you thanks, but, sadly, have little to give you. It is time for you both to return home.”

“Home?” said Young-beom, uncertainly.

“But how can we go home? My brother is older than me now.

“Yes, that would be embarrassing—or at least highly inconvenient. But I assure you, when you walk through the wooden door, in the stairwell in the jureum forest, he will be a four-year-old boy again. And you will be the same young woman as when you left your home.”

“The same?”

“Physically, at least. After years the realm of fairies, magic, guardians, and spirits, I doubt you could be quite the same inside.”

“And my friends—the jangseung, Grandma Dol and Bassam?”

“In time, I'll repair all Gumiho destroyed, including your friends. Except for Bassam, who is not of this world. I sense he has departed, but do not know where.”

“Oh,” she said, thinking. “And my magic potions from the fairies? And clothes and everything?”

“Will lose their magic and turn to rags and dust and plain things.”

“Oh,” said Young-hee again, somewhat disappointed.

“Cheer up. We can't have magic spilling into your mud world. For starters, it would wreak havoc with your science, at least as I understand it.”

Young-hee giggled, suspecting he was teasing. “Can we ever come back to Strange Land?”

“I do not know. Perhaps in dreams.”

As he talked, Young-hee became aware of a soft rumbling and gentle swish of fur. “Tiger!” she exclaimed. She hugged her old friend—as full of life as ever—around his shaggy neck. Tiger rumbled a happy purr and kissed across her whole her face with his big, rough tongue. “Ack, gross!” Young-hee laughed.

Tiger walked to Sanshin and lay down beside the venerable spirit, who rested a hand on the back of Tiger's neck. Young-hee didn't know how it happened, but suddenly Sanshin and Tiger were sitting under a huge pine tree—it looked like the oldest thing in the world. And that's when she saw it—Sanshin looked like gyeongbi Shin from her apartment, the day she found him playing with that tiger-orange kitten.

Saying goodbye, Young-hee and Young-beom headed to the jureum forest and the doorway home. At the top of the stairs, they cast one last look of the magic world.

“Do you think we'll ever come back?” Bum asked.

“I don't know. But I think I'm ready for the real world. At least for a little while.”

She opened the door open, letting Bum walk down the steps first. She was about to follow, when she heard the mishmash of squawking. In a massive, wrinkly tree, the birds were back, looking at her again. Thirty birds. She waved goodbye to them, then followed her brother into the darkness.

✴ ✴ ✴

And so they stumbled back to the real world, as if nothing had happened. One moment Young-beom was a young man, the next a four-year-old boy. Young-hee's canvas bag was a pile of old, dead leaves; her linen cloak looked and felt like dried spider web; the three vials from the fairy king were ugly, faintly-colored stone. Her shoes and clothes—and Bum's—were still horrible messes.
Mom is going to freak when she gets a load of us.

And freak she did: “What
on earth
have you two been up to?!” mom said as soon as she saw them. Their whole adventure had taken scarcely two hours in mud world time, Young-hee noted, but time enough to worry mom—especially after Young-hee's choppy phone call. As they bathed, she ordered spicy chicken from Young-hee's favorite restaurant. Nothing was different, thought Young-hee, and yet somehow everything was better.

After they ate, her mom asked her to do the dishes. “I know, ‘It's annoying,' but I have more work and would appreciate the help.”

“It's okay,” said Young-hee, surprised by her answer. “I don't mind.” It was nice to have something so mundane to do again. But then:

“
Young-hee!
” her mom yelled. “What did you do to Young-beom's
hair
?” The white streak was still there.

✴ ✴ ✴

The next day, after an impossibly long sleep, Young-hee bounded outside, eager to see Gyeongbi Shin. “Teacher!” she said as she knocked on the guards' office.

“Eh, what?” It was another guard.

“Oh, … I was looking for gyeongbi Shin.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Shin?” she repeated. “The really old guard, thin, wrinkles.”
Did he even exist?

“Ah, Shin. Why do you want to see him? Nevermind, I don't want to know. Anyhow, he's retired. Yesterday was his last day.”

“Oh,” she said, disappointed that he was a real person after all. “Any chance he will be back? I, uh, promised to bring him something.”

“
Aish
, just a minute.” After much shouting back and forth with another guard, he returned to the door. “Nope, you're out of luck. He apparently left to live with relatives in Gangwon Province.”

“Well, thank you.” Just because she was back in the real world, she didn't expect things to start making sense now.

She walked through the apartment complex, wondering what she would do next. It was going to be a hot, beautiful day.

“Hey, dork!” someone shouted, and there were the three mean girls from school. “I've been meaning to teach you another lesson.”

Even though there were three of them, Young-hee wasn't frightened any more. “Hi there. Nice day, isn't it?”

“Who said you could talk to us?” said the sharp-faced ringleader. “Well, good. I'm in the mood for teaching a worm some respect.”

Young-hee shot them a look—nothing angry, in fact she was smiling—that warned not to press their luck.

“Uh, maybe we should just be going,” said the heavier friend.

“What for? We can't let losers just do whatev…
Ack!
” the sharp-faced girl cried suddenly. “
Ouch! Ouch!
My foot's stuck!” A long thistle plant had caught her sandals and stuck fast, wrapping around her foot and digging into her skin. “
Ow!
Get it off!” she yelled, panicking, it got worse. “What
is
this, anyway?”

Young-hee smiled and walked away. In her right pocket, her hand rubbed against a dull white stone she was carrying for no particular reason. “Yep, it's a great looking day,” she said.