by Sumi Hahn
Dong Min whispered, “This place feels sorta spooky, doesn’t it?”
Dr. Moon nodded, feeling anxious.
* * *
A slight sparrow of a woman with white-streaked hair was kneeling in front of an altar. Multiple strands of wooden prayer beads were draped between her fingers as she rubbed her palms together in supplication. When the shaman finally looked up to acknowledge them, the two old men gasped. Her startling beauty, so unexpected in this modest setting, made her seem far younger than the shapeless ahjumma clothes she was wearing.
The woman studied Dr. Moon as she spoke to Dong Min. “Your mother sends her greetings.” Her voice was a delicate murmur.
The fat man’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Can you ask her where my wristwatch is, please? I can’t seem to find it.”
The beautiful shaman laughed, a silvery bell. “In the same wooden box as always, silly boy. Don’t save it; wear it!”
Dong Min grabbed Dr. Moon’s hand. “She’s the real thing!” He turned back to the shaman. “We’re here because he has a ghost problem.”
The shaman stared over Dr. Moon’s shoulder, her pupils enlarging and darkening. She nodded. “You are carrying spirits that need to be returned to their proper places.”
Dr. Moon gulped. “Can you help us?”
The shaman’s eyelids drooped, fluttering in place so that the whites of her eyes occasionally flashed. When she looked up again, her gaze was moist. “Both of you need more strength for this task. You must go to Hallasan. To Yeongshil Pass. Make an offering to the Mountain God. Pray for energy and guidance. While you get yourself ready, I will make the necessary arrangements.”
“Are you going to recommend a kut?” Dong Min suspected that the shaman was going ask Dr. Moon to host a ceremony for the dead, just as his mother would have done.
The shaman stood up from the floor, brushing off her baggy pants. “The spirits have something to say, and he needs to listen.”
“How much will it cost?” Dong Min suddenly looked wary.
The shaman named a price that made Dr. Moon gasp.
Dong Min raised his brows indignantly. “That’s highway robbery!” The fat man tugged at Dr. Moon’s sleeve, indicating that they should leave.
The woman shrugged, a graceful lift of her shoulders. She adjusted one of the candles on the altar. “A bargain for what I do. You won’t find anyone to do a proper kut for less anywhere else on Jeju. Perhaps you should ask around first and come back when you’re ready.”
Dong Min countered at half the price. The shaman didn’t deign to respond.
Dong Min pulled Dr. Moon into the hallway and gestured for him to put on his shoes. Just as they were walking out the door, the fat man turned around one last time. “Your original price, but with a ten percent discount because he’s traveled all the way from America.”
The beautiful shaman looked amused. “I suppose the spirits can take that into consideration.”
* * *
Dong Min left the gray rental car idling on the sidewalk while he ran into a twenty-four-hour convenience store. An outraged pedestrian shook her cane at Dr. Moon, who cowered in his seat. His friend returned with a bulging plastic sack that he handed to Dr. Moon, who peered down at the contents.
“Plastic bowls. A sack of rice. Beef jerky. Candles. Oranges. Apples. And two bottles of liquor? When did the shaman tell you to get all this stuff?”
Dong Min glanced at the side mirror. “She didn’t have to tell me anything. If we’re going to pray to the Mountain God, we can’t go empty-handed. The gods expect treats, especially the booze.” He swerved the car straight into moving traffic, tires squealing.
Dr. Moon thought of the collection plate at church, where offerings were always made in cash or checks, sealed inside envelopes. The shaman’s price for the kut had made him gasp, even though Dong Min crowed that they had gotten a bargain. The spirit world seemed to operate like the mundane world, with payments in exchange for services. Was there a god that didn’t require tithes or a religion not based on transactions?
Dong Min cursed at a car that cut them off. “When’s the last time you made an offering?”
Dr. Moon knew that Dong Min was not talking about those collection plate envelopes. “My mother and I visited the temple for Father a few times …”
“What about your mother, the widow who raised you? Don’t tell me you haven’t paid your annual respects to her.”
Dr. Moon’s brow furrowed. He had paid for her funeral and observed the proper rites at the time, but he had never held a jesa after moving to the States.
“Things were different when we got to America. Junja was very enthusiastic about being Christian.” Every Sunday, he had accompanied her to church, a habit more social than spiritual he had often thought, but never dared say out loud.
“In Korea, even Christians still honor their parents on the anniversary of their deaths!”
“Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”
“Of course, I am! Living in America doesn’t make you less Korean. You can’t leave Korea behind like a pair of old shoes.”
It was not for lack of trying, thought Dr. Moon with a pang. He remembered all the times he had pretended he couldn’t hear Junja crying in the bathroom. Every Fourth of July, for the sake of their daughters, they had watched fireworks that reminded them of gunfire. Despite the Christmas presents and holiday festivities, they had always dreaded winter with its annual ambush. The first snowfall gutted them, every time. Junja would go to bed early. He would sit in the dark, listening to Brahms with a glass of Scotch.
Memories of Korea, sudden and sharp, like splinters. Their life in America had ached with them.
* * *
As the small gray rental car shuddered up the mountain road to the trailhead, Dr. Moon looked out the window at a landscape that looked so familiar that he asked Dong Min several times whether they had been in that place before. At every bend in the road, the trees seemed to be reaching out, urging him to remember.
Dong Min clenched his hands on the steering wheel as he glanced out the window. “Are you asking if I drove this road earlier? Or if we passed this way back then?”
“Back then.”
“Most of the roads we’ve been driving didn’t exist then.” Dong Min took a deep breath. “However, Seogwipo is behind us that way, and we’re headed up the mountain. Even if we aren’t taking the same road … yeah, we’re in the same general area we were back then.”
A sense of tightness constricted Dr. Moon’s chest. The pressure did not start easing until they reached the gully at Yeongshil Pass. Dong Min stepped over the sign and lifted the rope, urging Dr. Moon to move quickly before anyone noticed them straying from the path. The two men gingerly picked their way through a dry stream bed, following the gravel spill into a wide gully surrounded by enormous craggy boulders. The two men gazed up at the looming rocks, which seemed to be guarding the peak beyond. Had they stayed on the trail, Dr. Moon and Dong Min could have walked to Hallasan’s peak, a half-day’s journey away.
“Feels like the Five Hundred Generals are watching over us,” Dong Min muttered. “Kinda spooky.”
Dong Min took the food out of the plastic bag, heaping the rice into a plastic bowl and arranging the oranges and apples in pyramids of three. He opened the soju and makgoli bottles, filling the paper cups to the brim. Dr. Moon looked behind them to make sure no one could see them from the trail, where a sign warned hikers to stay on the marked path at all times.
“We didn’t pass a Buddhist temple back then, did we?” The tightness in Dr. Moon’s chest seemed to relax.
Dong Min studied their surroundings. “No, we definitely didn’t come up this far.” He looked down at the small makeshift altar and held out a matchbook. “This is your duty, I think.”
Dr. Moon’s hands trembled. He wondered if the ghostly voices would comment, but they kept silent. He tore off a match and struck it. The breeze that had been stirring the trees died down. T
he birds ceased chirping, and a cloud passed over the sun, dimming its light. As Dr. Moon touched the flame to the candles, the entire mountain seemed to hold its breath.
Thirty-One
1948
Lieutenant Lee was standing on the beach, surrounded by women dressed in skimpy clothing that clung to their wet bodies. Gun Joo turned his eyes away, but Dong Min brazenly admired the view.
The fat boy whistled. “Would you look at that! We had our fill of wind and rocks walking that dumb cow. At last, we get more of what Jeju’s really famous for: the women!”
Gun Joo had heard about the haenyeo, the women divers of Jeju who foraged for food in the sea. He hadn’t realized, however, that some of them would be grandmothers, while others were girls close in age to himself. Unlike Dong Min, he was unable to stare so openly and studied his boots instead.
Lieutenant Lee was holding forth about a new invention, a contraption consisting of a mouthpiece connected by tubes to a tank of bottled air that allowed a diver to breath underwater. American soldiers using the device could stay submerged for almost an hour.
The two boys waited respectfully while the lieutenant talked. Some of the women doubted his story; others wished they could buy such a device to simplify their work. Several of the younger divers noticed the boys and pointed to Gun Joo, giggling.
Dong Min leaned in to whisper, “Looks like those gals have their eyes on you!”
Lieutenant Lee returned a scythe to one of the divers and thanked her for letting him examine it. When he finally addressed Gun Joo and Dong Min, his voice was a lazy drawl.
“I trust your trip wasn’t too difficult.”
“It was fine, sir!” Dong Min stood straight and saluted.
“Where’s my cow?”
“Tethered at camp, sir!” Dong Min answered again.
“How’s her condition?” The lieutenant turned to Gun Joo, but Dong Min responded instead.
“Same as we found her, sir!” He scratched his chin. “Well, maybe a little fatter now.”
Lieutenant Lee turned to Gun Joo. “Cow expert! Why haven’t you got anything to say?”
Gun Joo stuttered, “B-b-because my friend is better at talking, sir!”
The women laughed.
“Are you a smart aleck? Or are you saying that he’s the brains while you’re something else?”
Gun Joo studied the sand as his face grew hot. “I didn’t m-mean any d-disrespect, sir!”
The lieutenant took off his glasses to wipe the sea mist fogging the lenses. “As long as you’re here, why don’t you two lads help these women bring their harvest back to the village.” He turned on his heel and bowed to the haenyeo. “Excuse me, ladies, but I must go check on my cow.”
* * *
The older haenyeo embarrassed Gun Joo with their flattery, patting his arms and peering at his face. The younger divers hung back, but their compliments were loud enough to be heard by Dong Min, who rolled his eyes.
“Such fine pale skin!”
“Look at his long eyelashes!”
“That’s a mouth made for kissing, right there!”
When Gun Joo offered to help carry their bundles, the women refused him, insisting that he not dirty his uniform.
Dong Min, who was staggering under a large basket of kelp, bumped into Gun Joo’s side. “Help me out, pretty boy.”
“Hey, don’t bother him, fatso. He’s not the one who needs the exercise!” The haenyeo flicked water at Dong Min, who wiped his face with his sleeves.
Red-faced, Gun Joo took the other end of the basket while Dong Min fumed.
The boys made several trips, helping the women carry their harvest back to the village. With each return to shore, more divers would stagger from the water, dragging nets bulging with shells and writhing with tentacles.
The loads were heavy, but Gun Joo dared not complain. Dong Min also kept his mouth shut. Neither boy wanted to admit that these women, who laughed as they casually hoisted baskets above their heads, were stronger than they were, even after diving in the water all day.
When it seemed that the last diver had swum in with the tide, the elder in charge of the fire circle began chanting out names. Each haenyeo responded when her name was called, except for one. Her name was repeated at the end of the roll call.
“Goh Junja.”
There was still no response. The elder looked around. “Who was diving with Junja?”
The young girl who raised her hand was defensive when she answered. “We were. She told us to go ahead. We thought she’d be here by now.”
“Where were you diving?”
“Near Lonely Rock.”
The elder turned to Dong Min and Gun Joo. “You’ll do us a big favor if you look for her. Scramble past those rocks over there and walk along the cliffs. Look for a large boulder out in the water. The trail down to the beach is slippery, so be careful. When you find the girl, please tell her it’s time to come back.”
* * *
The two young soldiers stood on the edge of the high bank, scanning the shore. Dong Min, who saw the girl first, pointed. The two boys watched the girl rise up through the water. When she reached the surface, she didn’t scream and she didn’t move. She didn’t do anything they had seen the other divers do. She simply bobbed on the water like a piece of driftwood.
“Something’s wrong with her. We have to do something.” Gun Joo hesitated just long enough to remove his boots before rushing down to the beach.
Dong Min began to untie his boots as well but stopped when he remembered that he didn’t know how to swim. He half ran and half slid down the steep path as he followed his friend.
Gun Joo splashed out to the prone diver, whose body was floating limp on the waves. He swam as fast as he could, but his awkward splashing made him lose sight of the girl. He lunged when he saw her bob back up, but his hands grabbed empty air.
“She went under over there!” Dong Min was gesturing wildly from the water’s edge.
Gun Joo gulped some air and dove. He swiveled in the water, limbs churning, looking for the girl. How could she have sunk so quickly? He took another half turn. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed her plummeting down toward the depths.
Gun Joo returned to the surface with a gasp. He panted as his arms flailed against the incoming waves. His legs were tiring, but he pushed away his exhaustion. He was about to dive under again when the girl surfaced beside him with a whistling exhalation.
“Why are you in the water, soldier?” She seemed to spit out the last word.
Gun Joo stared. Water glistened on the girl’s skin, making her sparkle like an otherworldly creature. Her beautiful glare shook out a stuttering response.
“You d-d-didn’t m-make any n-noise, and you were j-just floating.”
Junja didn’t want to admit that she had blacked out just as she surfaced, almost drowning. “A Nationalist soldier rescuing a haenyeo?”
“Are you Goh Junja?”
“Yes, I’m Goh Junja.” She tossed her head and took a deep breath, readying herself to dive.
Gun Joo managed to grab the girl before she went under. He held her by the wrist as she spluttered in outrage. “Goh Junja, we were sent to get you. You have to come in now.”
* * *
The women who had come running when they heard the ruckus were standing by, shaking their heads as Junja resisted the divers who tried to bring her back to shore. The girl was standing rigid in the shallows, screaming out a volley of curses that made Gun Joo blush. He didn’t know that a woman could know such words or contain so much fury.
“What did you do to her?” Dong Min studied Gun Joo’s face, which was raked with scratches.
“I grabbed her arm to stop her from diving again. When I told her she had to come in, she started attacking me.”
Dong Min grunted. “Crazy wench. Looked like she was trying to drown you.”
“If those other divers hadn’t shown up when they did, I think she would have.” The two of them had
been struggling in the water when the other women separated him from the girl’s pummeling fists and clawing fingers.
The elder appraised the marks on Gun Joo’s face and apologized. “I don’t understand why she’s acting this way. I’m truly sorry for the trouble.”
Gun Joo was embarrassed about making such a scene. “I’m at fault, ma’am. It wasn’t right of me to grab her arm. I’m a stranger, after all.”
The elder shook her head. “If she was going to dive again, what choice did you have? No, the fault is hers. And mine for sending you. Please forgive us.”
When Junja’s screams cut into the conversation, the elder shooed them along. “It sounds like she’s not going to come out while you’re standing here. If you two boys head back to camp, it will be easier for us to calm her down.”
* * *
As dinnertime approached, soldiers began returning to the camp, some carrying shovels or axes, others pushing wheelbarrows. A few of them had blood-stained bandages wrapped around their hands; all of them looked exhausted. As they passed Gun Joo and Dong Min, who were setting up their tent, a couple of them muttered that some guys had all the luck.
While Gun Joo and Dong Min had been ambling alongside a slow-moving cow, the other soldiers had spent the past two days in backbreaking labor, moving rocks and shoveling earth.
Despite their exhaustion, the young soldiers readied themselves for dinner with obvious excitement as they rinsed their faces and combed the dust out of their hair.
“I think I need to wash my face and hands before we eat,” Dong Min was feeling sweatily self-conscious. “You wanna come too?”
Gun Joo shook his head. “I already took a bath in the ocean, remember? I’ll finish setting this corner up and meet you in the mess line.”