by Sumi Hahn
* * *
The young woman standing next to Junja poked her in the side. “There’s the one you attacked. Behind the short fat one.”
The other girls gasped and punched Junja on the arm.
“Ohmanah! Look at the scratches on his handsome face!”
“Why’d you do such a thing?”
“I hope you didn’t leave permanent scars!”
“Keep your eyes down, girls.” The village elder in charge of the mess line inspected each spoon and ladle with suspicion. “Remember, don’t give too much, but don’t give too little either. One scoop of millet or sweet potato, but not both. And no second helpings, no matter how nicely they ask. Understood? Lieutenant’s orders.”
As the soldiers moved through the line with their mess tins, whispers and giggles followed them. Some of the bolder boys made direct conversation with the young women, while others were more discreet. Dong Min watched one soldier push his tin forward for millet, along with a small piece of bark. The girl who took both glanced at the attending elder to make sure she hadn’t been seen before tucking the secret scrap of communication up her sleeve.
Dong Min whispered to Gun Joo. “I guess our fellow soldiers have spent the past couple days flirting at mealtime. Every guy here has his eye on someone.”
Gun Joo blushed. The girl who had tried to drown him was standing by the sweet potatoes, wearing the same expression of contempt that he’d seen in the water. She glared down at the mound of potatoes, looking up just long enough to dump food into the proffered tins. She ignored everyone’s attempts to make small talk.
“Millet?” The pretty plump girl who was scooping millet tried to catch Gun Joo’s eye.
Dong Min answered for his friend. “Yes, he’d like millet, please.”
Gun Joo covered his tin. “Actually, I want sweet potatoes.”
Dong Min tried to move Gun Joo’s hand. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. We’ve been eating nothing but sweet potatoes for two days. He wants millet.”
Gun Joo’s hand didn’t budge. “I really like sweet potatoes.”
“You’re crazy!” Dong Min squinted down the line. When he saw Junja standing by the bowl of sweet potatoes, he repeated himself. “Yup, you’re completely nuts.”
Dong Min shook his head as he watched a silent Gun Joo choke down sweet potatoes while stealing glances at Junja. The girl had not looked up when she served him, but her serving spoon had struck his tin with an especially hard clang.
Dong Min threw a utensil at his friend. “Stop eating with your fingers and use the pork, like the other guys.” He waved his hand in front of Gun Joo’s face. “And stop staring at that girl, you pathetic fool.”
“I’m not looking at her. I’m looking at the sweet potatoes to see how many are left.” Gun Joo batted Dong Min’s hand away.
“No second helpings, remember? Besides, you can’t fool me. I know exactly what’s going on.” The fat boy sighed as he scraped his empty tin.
“Oh yeah? What’s going on?”
“You’ve fallen for her.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have. I should know, having recently fallen in love myself.”
“I’m not ‘in love.’ I’m just interested.”
“Well, you’re not the only one who’s ‘just interested.’”
Two fellow soldiers were attempting to engage Junja in conversation. Though the girl ignored them, Gun Joo felt a jealous flush warming his face.
“She’s attractive, no question about that. But she’s nuts.” The fat boy tried to pick his teeth with the tip of his fork.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because I saw her attack you. She was trying to drown you!”
“That’s because I grabbed her arm.”
“And that justifies what she did?”
“From her point of view, yes.”
“You know what? She’s perfect for you.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah. Because you’re just as crazy as she is.” The fat boy stood up. “Come on—let’s wash these things and finish setting up our tent.
Later that night, as Dong Min snored beside him, Gun Joo smiled up at the darkness. He finally understood what his friend had seen in the harelipped girl because he had seen the same in Junja.
Thirty-Two
2001
After concluding their prayers with three prostrations, Dr. Moon and Dong Min scattered the rice, throwing large fistfuls around them. Next, they hurled the liquor in wide silver arcs in all four cardinal directions. They left one orange and an apple on a rock before placing the bowls, empty bottles, and remaining food back into the plastic bag. Dr. Moon followed Dong Min’s lead as he bowed deeply in farewell, hands clasped together in thanks.
As the two men walked down the gully, Dong Min stopped to pick up litter, muttering about careless hikers.
“Maybe we should walk up the mountain for a bit. Not too far—just enough to see the view.” Dr. Moon offered the suggestion tentatively, in case his portly friend rejected the idea.
Dong Min thumped his chest. “You know, I feel so energized by this place that I think I could do something crazy like that. But we have to go slow, okay?”
Dr. Moon nodded. “Can you walk in those shoes?”
Dong Min stamped his sneakered feet. “Of course. My feet can walk in anything. I’m the one who should be asking you that question. Can you walk in those shoes?”
Dr. Moon stamped his orthopedic walkers in response. “This is the first comfortable pair of shoes I’ve ever worn in Korea. Let’s see how my feet do.”
A steady flow of hikers streamed by the two old friends in both directions as they climbed the trail. Some folks were dressed as they were, in casual everyday clothes, but the majority were wearing hiking boots, mountaineering vests, and sporty brimmed hats. These professional-looking climbers planted their poles with a rhythmic speed that spurred Dr. Moon and Dong Min to walk faster.
“I think we missed the memo for the dress requirement.” Dong Min chuckled as another couple passed them, clad in identical, color-coordinated hiking gear.
“Remember the young guy who passed us earlier? The one who was carrying a huge backpack with a teddy bear tied to it? Where do you suppose he was going?” Dr. Moon wished he had stopped the fellow to ask.
“There’s a lake at the top. People camp overnight there, even though it isn’t technically allowed.” Dong Min wiped the perspiration off his face with a handkerchief fished out from his pocket. He folded the handkerchief over to reveal a fresh side and handed it to his friend. “It’s considered a sacred spot. Of course, Mother always said that all mountaintops were sacred.”
As Dr. Moon blotted his nose and forehead, he caught sight of a large bird wheeling over the deep valley alongside the trail. The bird floated over the Five Hundred Generals, the craggy boulders that stared out to sea from their airy perches.
“The scenery’s amazing, isn’t it?” Dong Min scooted over to let a group of determined hikers pass. “But the trail’s as crowded as Yoonja’s favorite shopping mall during a sale!”
Dr. Moon pointed. “There’s a viewing platform. Let’s stop when we get up there.”
* * *
“Did this happen to you in America as well?” Dong Min crammed half a roll of kimbop into his mouth and spoke through bulging cheeks. The two of them had waited for a large group of young, sociable hikers to finish their picnic before taking their places on the viewing platform. As they left, the hikers offered their remaining seaweed rolls to the two old men, who happily accepted.
“What are you talking about?” Dr. Moon was savoring his kimbop, which surprised him by being exceptionally delicious.
“People giving you food for free. It always happened back then too.”
“I don’t remember anything like that.”
“How can you not remember? In the mess line, girls would always slip you something extra. A heaping scoop of mi
llet while everyone else got level scoops. They always saved the biggest piece of fish for you.”
“They did? I never noticed.”
“Wow. You must have been really distracted by Junja.”
Dr. Moon considered. “I think you were just as obsessed with Yoonja.”
Dong Min laughed. “No, I was more obsessed.” He studied the glittering ocean, breathing deeply. “We were so distracted by our hormones that I don’t think we appreciated how beautiful Jeju was back then. Much more beautiful than it is now, with no highways or large hotels.”
A deep voice interrupted. “I sincerely agree with you. Jeju used to be much more beautiful.”
A wizened man in baggy gray pants and a shapeless gray jacket was standing on the trail, leaning on a walking stick. Under his wide-brimmed straw hat, his head was clean-shaven. A monk, whose face seemed etched by a permanent smile. The man gestured toward the platform. “May I join you?”
Dong Min rose to make room for the monk, bowing as he did so.
The monk took off his pack to settle in alongside them. “I always make it a point to stop here because it’s one of the few places left on Jeju where the view hasn’t changed too much from the old days. If you block out those buildings over there with your hands, it’s like traveling back in time fifty years.”
All three men raised their hands to reframe the view.
“That’s much better,” sighed Dong Min.
Dr. Moon put down his hands to address the monk. “You were on Jeju fifty years ago?”
The monk nodded, smiling. “I’ve lived on Jeju my whole life, mostly right here on this mountain. I was born here, and I’ve never left, not even to visit Seoul. I’ll die here too.”
Dong Min counted his fingers and looked at Dr. Moon. “Were we here fifty years ago?”
“Fifty-three years exactly this October,” said Dr. Moon. He added, “But the date is different if we use the lunar calendar.”
The monk nodded. “Time moves differently with the moon.” He scratched his head. “Judging from your accents, I don’t think you two are Jeju-born. You must have spent time here as soldiers.”
Dong Min glanced at Dr. Moon before answering. “Would you say we were actually soldiers? Maybe more like trainees …”
The monk’s next question startled both men. “Are you here to ask for forgiveness, perhaps?”
When neither man responded, the monk smiled into the awkward silence. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to suggest that you two had done something wrong.”
At first, Dr. Moon’s words stuck in his throat before loosening and tumbling out. “The Nationalist troops did terrible things. We were here. We saw what happened.”
Dong Min quickly added, “But we didn’t take part in any of it.”
Dr. Moon’s voice was so quiet that the monk had to lean in to hear. “We didn’t stop it either.”
Dong Min looked up at the sky. “If we had tried to, we wouldn’t be here today.”
Dr. Moon hung his head.
The monk, who started bobbing his head as he listened, continued to nod. “You’ve come to the Mountain to ask for forgiveness. Just like I have.”
Dr. Moon and Dong Min didn’t know what to say. They could hardly fathom this smiling monk doing anything that would need to be forgiven.
The monk pointed his walking stick toward the foothills. “See that hillside just below us? The one with the large clearing in the trees?”
An abrupt emptiness interrupted the green of the forest.
“Fifty-three years ago, there used to be a village there. Until it was fire-bombed by an American plane. The fire was so hot that the village burned for an entire day and night. For a long time, the earth there was barren, and even now the grass still struggles to grow.”
The monk closed his eyes. “Dozens of villages on the mountain were destroyed, but I witnessed that one happen. I was on this trail. I saw the plane and the explosions. When I reached the temple, the decision had been made to evacuate. My fellow monks and I, we took the fast route off the mountain when we should have stopped to help.” He cast his eyes down in shame.
The monk looked back up, his expression sad. “I’ve been praying for all the lost souls of the mountain ever since.”
The two old friends looked at each other as an unspoken communication passed between them. Dr. Moon nodded to Dong Min, who spoke.
“Well, you see, sir … there’s something you don’t know.” Dong Min cleared his throat. “The truth is, we … uh … we …” His shiny face reddened as he turned to Dr. Moon. “I’m not sure that—”
Dr. Moon interrupted. As he spoke, the stutter that had been left behind in Korea when he moved to America returned. “He and I—we r-ran away from the N-N-Nationalists. We’re d-d-deserters.”
There. Their shameful secret had finally been confessed. Besides the three of them on the mountain, Yoonja was the only other person who knew, now that Junja was gone.
The monk’s face crinkled again. “What an interesting coincidence that we’ve met like this on the mountain. The three of us”—he gestured to Dr. Moon, Dong Min, and himself—“we’re all deserters.”
Dong Min shook his head. “What you did wasn’t desertion. That was common sense. And I don’t think that what we did counts as desertion either.”
“We may not consider it desertion, but the government would.” Dr. Moon looked stubborn. It was obvious that the two men had had this discussion before.
Dong Min raised his voice. “But we were following orders!”
The monk interrupted. “Orders? From who?”
Dr. Moon answered. “Our commanding officer, Lieutenant Lee. He told us to leave Jeju. He ordered us to run away.”
Thirty-Three
1948
“Please, sir, I’m begging you. Let me go to the mountain.” Junja trembled. She had to go to the mountain as soon as possible, for Grandmother’s sake.
The girl was kneeling with her head bowed before Lieutenant Lee, who was leafing through a stack of paperwork presented to him by the private serving as his communications secretary. Despite her posture, Junja’s voice did not convey any humility. She sounded like she was trying not to bark out an order.
“Hallasan is forbidden.” Lieutenant Lee glanced at the girl through his spectacles.
Junja tried not to glare. The lieutenant had not inquired even once about her grandmother’s poor health during the weeks that his troops had been stationed at the village. The girl understood his need to maintain appearances, but surely he could have found a way to help without compromising his cover.
“I know …” Junja added the honorific after a delay, “… sir.”
“Then why are you wasting my time?” The lieutenant wondered how the girl would respond. Only Junja and her grandmother knew about his true alliances. As far as his soldiers were concerned, he was an eager lapdog of the Nationalists and their American overseers.
“My grandmother is very sick. She needs mushrooms and roots that can only be found on the mountain.” The lieutenant had to grant this request, thought the girl, with some desperation. Grandmother had shrunk to half her size and was now unable to eat.
“It’s too cold for mushrooms.” The lieutenant signed the document that the secretary presented, with a flourish of his gold pen.
Junja unclenched her jaw to speak. “Not the kind I’m looking for. These mushrooms become part of the tree. They’re hard as wood.” Junja decided to prostrate herself, stretching out her hands in supplication. “I beg you, sir, please have mercy on my sick grandmother. Please allow me to gather medicine from the mountain.” She tried to make her voice deferential and meek; instead, it sounded like something was stuck in her throat.
Lieutenant Lee turned to the secretary. “What do you think, Woon?”
Secretary Woon possessed small, shifty eyes and an even smaller, shiftier heart. He had tried to talk to Junja several times in the mess line, but the girl always rebuffed him. Woon sensed an opportunity n
ow. “Sir, I think you should allow the girl to go, but send her with an escort.”
Lieutenant Lee didn’t trust this young man, which was why he kept him close. “I think that’s far too lenient. What’s the health of a granny to our proud new republic? She’s going to die of old age anyways.”
Junja quivered but kept her face pressed down to the ground. She had to remind herself that she knew the lieutenant when he was Constable Lee. There was nothing straightforward about this man, whose every word seemed to serve a larger purpose.
Secretary Woon saw his chance with Junja slipping away. “We must treat our countrymen with compassion, sir, even when they are wayward Communists. I could accompany the girl, sir, to make sure she does exactly what she says she’s going to do.”
The lieutenant looked unconvinced. “How about sending a wire asking for official permission?”
Secretary Woon knew, as the lieutenant did, that the request would be denied. “Might I suggest, sir, that I record this matter as a matter of daily camp business? Perhaps the girl could be foraging for additional provisions?”
Lieutenant Lee appeared to lose interest. “I’m too busy for such trivial matters. How about I leave everything in your capable hands, Woon? I’ll sign off on whatever you decide.”
* * *
Dong Min and Gun Joo were digging a trench on the outskirts of the village when Junja, Lieutenant Lee, and the communications secretary walked around the bend. Junja and the secretary were carrying baskets.
“Junja, the lieutenant and that rat Woon are headed this way.” Dong Min suppressed a laugh as Gun Joo’s grip on his shovel slipped.
Lieutenant Lee stopped to examine the trench. “I came to see if more hands were needed, but you two seem to be finished already. Excellent work, lads!” He turned to Woon and Junja and waved them along. “Please hurry back once you’ve found your mushrooms. I’m expecting an important wire this evening.”
Gun Joo did not like the thought of Junja being alone with Woon. He pulled his shovel out of the trench and rested it on the ground. “Excuse me, sir, but isn’t it too c-c-cold for m-mushrooms?”