Young-hee and the Pullocho (18 page)

“I read that dragons and carp are friends.”

“Not enemies, but not ‘friends' either. Now, turtles, they're a different matter. I've always gotten along with turtles.”

“My little brother had a turtle once,” said Young-hee, but thought better of telling the story. If Mansoo was a friend of turtles, he'd probably dislike how it ended … best to change topics. “So, you're a young spirit?”

The dragon laughed warily. “I have been lord of this lake for a very long time. Some might call me an old spirit. But, the truth is, I'm not much interested in the endless squabbles of the other spirits. I'm content to live peacefully in my waters.”

“I just want to get my brother back and go home.”

“Then perhaps that is your side.”

Mansoo made steady progress. They talked some more, but at some point Young-hee fell into a deep, comfortable sleep. When she woke, the carp were gone and the Cheongyong Mountains loomed large. Even if they weren't full of evil ogres their high, unforgiving coils of snow-capped granite presented an intimidating prospect. She hoped the cave wouldn't be worse, but suspected that Strange Land's shortcuts always came with a catch.

She nibbled on a couple of kaypal
cakes from her bag as Mansoo swam on. He politely rejected her offer to share, saying a young human's food was not much sustenance for a dragon.
I want to get my brother back and go home from this scary land
, but at that moment, eating magic rice cakes while gliding across a great lake on a blue dragon, Young-hee was so amazed, she almost didn't want to return to Bum. Trying to imagine his fear and her mother's worry, she felt guilty—or maybe just guilty that she didn't feel more guilty.

A cool wind whipped Young-hee's straight, dark hair. The shore raced toward them now, and mountains towered ahead. Great sheets of rock slammed straight into the water, with barely any shore separating mountain from lake. Trees clung desperately to the stony cliffs, branches and, in a straight line several feet above the lake, green needles gave way to bare bark. Young-hee thought that must be the high water mark, from when rains or melting snows swelled Lake Mey. Directly ahead among the rocks, she saw a dark spot that seemed to swallow light. Maybe it was
Darang Cave.

In the setting sun Young-hee's shadow astride the dragon stretched toward the mountains.
How long had they been swimming?

The quiet, rippling swishes of the dragon echoed off the rocks as they drew near to a lonely cove, nestled between the feet of two big mountains. Trees dotted the higher sides, gave way to patchy grass, and then yielded to stone.

Mansoo glided toward the cove's meager beach, backed by the cave's ugly maw. Its ominous darkness overwhelmed the torpid scenery. Young-hee felt a lurch as the dragon touched the lake bottom and walked forward, strength replacing grace.

Mansoo leaned over gently and she slid off, landing with a plunk, right in the middle of a line of dark, flat stones. Her path was back. It led from the water into the cave.
Why am I not surprised?
she thought.

Checking her things, she found everything in place. “Thank you so much for the ride, Mansoo,” she said with unconvincing cheer.

“I owe Bae much, so I was happy to repay him a little, if only indirectly,” said Mansoo, dipping his head in a slight bow.

“I don't suppose you'd be interested in coming with me?” she ventured. A dragon would be so much faster and safer.

“My home is this lake. I can leave the water, but only as a turtle, and that would help little. Please be careful in Darang Cave. It has no ogres, but legends warn of other dangers. Stay on the path and move quickly.”

“Thanks, again” she said, unsurprised that more trouble awaited. The dragon took a couple of heavy steps into the lake, when Young-hee shouted after him. “Mansoo!”

He looked back at her. “Yes, Young-hee?”

“Did you really try to kill Rabbit?”

“Rabbit?”

“In a famous dragon story, you sent for Rabbit when you were sick because you needed to eat his liver to live.”

“Ah, yes. And your people tell that story to each other?”

“Yeah. It's kind of famous actually—a
pansori
song and everything.”

“
Hrumph
,” Mansoo hrumphed. “I suspect that's Rabbit version. If you really wish to know mine … Once, when I was traveling the land in the form of a turtle, I was captured by an evil monk. Every day, after magically summoning my wife and one of our daughters, he cut open that daughter and ate her liver. Once, when the monk napped, I came on Rabbit and begged his help. Refusing, he fled in fear. And so the monk kept me prisoner, and more of my daughters died. Finally, with only one daughter left, I met an archer. Unlike Rabbit, he agreed to help. I showed him where to hide and watch. Shortly, the monk began to chant, and just when my wife and last daughter appeared, the archer fired an arrow and struck the monk in
his
liver. Wounded on the ground, the monk's magic faded revealing him to be Lady Fox, the animal spirit. I should have destroyed her then and there, but weak from long captivity, I let Fox go. The archer helped my family to the lake, and I have never left, since.”

Young-hee groped for words, but all she came up with was: “I'm so sorry.”

“It was long ago, and that is what Fox does,” said the dragon, sounding so very old and tired. “But I appreciate your kindness, Young-hee.”

Mansoo was just about to swim away, when Young-hee shouted once more. “Mansoo! The archer—was that Bae?”

“Yes,” he said slipping beneath the surface with barely a ripple.

Unsure how to proceed, Young-hee sat on a square-ish, black stone and rubbed her ankles as she looked about. The only trace of Mansoo was the rhythmic slosh of tiny ripples. Across the great expanse of water she could still make out the rolling hills she had left. Beyond them was the goblin market and Bum, the jureum trees, and the way home. Each step toward the pullocho took her further from where she wanted to be.

Turning, she saw the great, jagged mouth of Darang Cave arched over a floor of broken stones. Twilight's glow lit the entrance, but as the cave quickly narrowed it dropped into black—like looking down someone's throat.
Or a dragon's gullet
, Young-hee thought, recalling her first meeting with Mansoo.

Rechecking her inventory, she removed Grandma Dol's Glory Cedar lamp. She was about to try her phone, but stopped herself.
What's the point?
At the cave, Young-hee felt dank, dead air swirl from the bowels of the mountains. She tried to ignore her dread as she lit the lamp. Ahead was only darkness. Young-hee raised her lamp and walked inside.

The Girl Who Couldn't Stop Farting

There once was a rich farmer who was sad because, try as he might, he could not find a husband for his youngest daughter. She was very beautiful, but had one big problem: She farted all the time. Really big, noisy ones.

Finally, the farmer found the son of a government official from the next province, who had not heard of the daughter's wind problem. He told his daughter, “This is your last chance. If you fart in front of your new husband or his family, they will send you back and no one will ever marry you.”

The daughter and the official's son, Yi Chambong, were married and the daughter went to live with Yi's family, as was the custom. She was a good daughter-in-law and Yi's parents both liked her very much.

But after a year, the daughter grew very sick. She was pale and weak, and every movement brought her pain. Yi and his parents asked what was wrong, but she wouldn't answer. “Please tell us,” they unsuccessfully implored, “so we can get a doctor and medicine to help you.” But she only grew sicker each day.

Finally, the daughter relented, saying her sickness was caused by holding in her farts for over a year. “Dear girl,” said the father, “breaking wind is embarrassing, but you should not ruin your health over something like that. If you need to pass wind, then do so.”

So the daughter told everyone in the house, father-in-law, mother-in-law, husband, and servants all, to hold onto something strong and sturdy—a door, a windowsill, a big, wooden beam. Bewildered, they complied. And only once they were all secure did the girl fart.

And what a fart it was. A year's wind in one mighty break, wave after typhoon-like wave exploded as they held on tight, to keep from blowing out of the house.

When it finally finished, everyone was shocked into silence. They organized a procession to return the clearly unsuitable girl.

The journey took several days. On the way, they passed under three giant pear trees, where local villagers rested in the shade. The girl heard them say the pears were magical and could cure any illness. The villagers wanted pears for the dying king, but the only remaining fruit was on the highest branches that no one could reach, even with ladders or long poles. The villagers lamented that soon these pears would rot, their powers would be lost, and the king would die.

The daughter had an idea. “I will get those pears and save the king,” she announced. The villagers laughed at her. “How could a young woman climb so high, where we men have failed?” But the daughter had no intention of climbing anything. Instead, she walked to a tree and bent over, lifting her skirt with her butt high in the air. And then the daughter farted once more, blasting mighty gusts into the air. The wind rattled the trees and knocked the pears to the ground. Her father-in-law laughed when he saw it: “Some farts are farts of blessing,” he said. The villagers took the pears to the king, who ate them and lived for many more years. And they gave one pear to the daughter, who ate it and was cured of her wind problem, and the family lived long and happily.

Entering the huge underground cavern was easy enough. It began with a large grotto that gave way to a tunnel. She had to duck at one narrow point, but with the path under foot and her lantern in her hand, Young-hee felt confident. After several turns, the tunnel opened into a large chamber.

And it was really big—so big that the light from her lantern was swallowed by the darkness after just a few meters. While the path was mostly flat, its borders were dotted with boulders large and small. Some stalactites hung from the roof and stalagmites rose from the floor, occasionally even meeting in a solid column. After a little while the cave grew smaller, and Young-hee was able to see one side, then both, and then the roof, too. But before it grew too small, it opened up again, expanding into infinite blackness.

And so the path continued, through vast halls and narrow corridors—fortunately without signs of bats or spiders or anything living. The path wound steadily downward, utterly silent, save for the
tuktuk, tuk-tuk
of Young-hee's footsteps. It was a totally different from the quiet of the forest with its rustling of leaves and distant sounds of birds or tiny animals scurrying through the underbrush. In the enveloping, almost physical silence and darkness, without life's distractions, Young-hee really was alone with her thoughts, which steadily grew wilder and more random:
Will I ever get Bum back? What's mom up to now? Am I missing a lot of homework? Will anyone notice my Facebook page hasn't been updated? How long have I been gone in mud-world time?

Sometimes she didn't notice the
tuk-tuk
of her steps, but other times their regular thumping rang in her ears like a lumberjack chopping down a great tree; sometimes, she was unaware of her breathing, then it seemed as loud as a summer storm. And once in a while, she'd stop, cover the lamp with her jacket and feel the most complete darkness and silence she had ever known.
Is this what it will feel like when I'm dead? What if this darkness is all there is forever? Maybe I'm on the verge of waking up, and this adventure will disappear, like a dream.

She lost all sense of time and direction. She had gotten a little hungry only once, and nibbled on a rice ball. Her feet hurt the way they had at the end of her first day in the forest. She took a break, sitting against a large stone at the path's edge, intending to rub her feet and then get going again. But she woke some time later—still in the cave, in the dark, unaware of actually falling asleep. Fortunately, the lantern candle was going strong. She didn't want to waste it, but wouldn't have wanted to wake to total blackness either. She checked it and found that less than half was used, and silently thanked Grandma Dol. With three more candles in her bag, Young-hee figured she could walk quite a while before worrying about losing the light.