Suddenly, Young-hee had an idea. A great idea. She jumped up, but stopped herself and turned around. “Thank you so much for your help, Gyeongbi Shin,” she said, giving him a serious bow before taking off for home. She had figured out how to get back.
Too excited to wait for the elevator, she bounced up nine flights of stairs. At the top, her face glistened with sweat, but she didn’t care. Despite the summer heat, she put on a light windbreaker, stuffed a dark gray scarf into one pocket and a big handful scrunchies and hair bands into another. And without knowing why, she reached into her T-shirt drawer for the handkerchief with the dead flowers from Kkiman’s bracelet and carefully pocketed it, too. Then she swept into the kitchen and crammed her jacket pockets with granola bars. Finally, Young-hee found Bum lying on the floor in his favorite yellow shirt, playing with his animal toys, and took him by the hand. She picked up Gangjee and found pocket space for the toy puppy. “Let’s go, Bum!” she said to her confused brother. “Mom, how about I take Bum for a walk? Give you some quiet.”
Young-hee’s mom looked at her skeptically. “You’re volunteering to spend time with your brother?”
“Sure, he’s my brother. We’ll have fun together, right?” Bum’s confusion was quickly overwhelmed by his big sister’s enthusiasm.
“Well, okay,” said her mom. “As long as you keep an eye on him and make sure he stays out of trouble.”
“Promise,” said Young-hee. Getting into the elevator, she gave her mother an exaggerated happy wave goodbye, then pressed the ground-floor button.
But inside the elevator, Young-hee pressed the button for the parking garage. Bum looked confused. “We’re going to play a game in the garage,” she explained, and when the doors opened, led him into the garage. She took the scarf out and tied it over her eyes like a blindfold. If you lost something while you were lost, maybe you need to be lost again to find it, she recalled. “Okay, Bum, listen to me. I want you to play,” she said, handing him Gangjee.
“Wha?” said Bum.
“Play. Just like normal. Here’s Gangjee. You can make him fly. Or fire superlasers. Or anything. Just hold my hand and don’t let go, no matter what.” Bum looked from Gangjee to his strange sister, deeply confused. He sneezed for good measure. Young-hee lifted the blindfold from one eye, trying to figure out how to make this work. “What’s wrong? You love playing with Gangjee.”
“I don’t know.”
“Aish, so annoying,” Young-hee muttered. “Look, Gangjee is the coolest dog in the world, right?”
“Mmm.” That sounded like a yes.
“So this is like a giant cave. And you know what’s inside of big caves, right? Treasure. Dragons. Lots of amazing stuff.” Bum looked around, thinking. “And I heard Gangjee has a really cool friend somewhere down here. A dragon? … a monkey?”
“Monkey-dragon?”
“Yes, a monkey-dragon. How cool is that?”
“Very cool.”
“So? Let’s go find monkey-dragon.”
“Yeah!” Bum took off.
“Bum, wait!” Young-hee shouted, trying to sound playful, not annoyed. “With me, please. Remember—don’t let go of my hand.” Bum doubled back and took Young-hee’s hand. She dropped the blindfold back over both eyes and let Bum lead the way. He bounced her off of only one car and a curb—thankfully, no concrete pillars—before getting the hang of guiding her. She kept her ears open for cars, and hearing one after just a couple of minutes, peeked under the blindfold and pulled Bum out of the way. A heavily made-up face stared dourly at them as the car slowly passed, and Young-hee saw that they were halfway between her apartment building and the next. If I know where we were, we’ll never get lost—she thought, scowling and pulling down the blindfold.
Fortunately, few people were in the garage. She felt Bum lead them down a car ramp, which she hoped meant fewer cars. Ten minutes into the quest for the monkey-dragon, Bum found a new game, making “whoosh” noises and swinging his body in big arcs. It was all Young-hee could do not to peak. But she knew it was still just in the garage.
As they walked, accompanied now by Bum’s rendition of motorboat sounds, Young-hee did her best to stop paying attention to where they were going. She concentrated on listening for cars as they went up a ramp, down another, got bored, and listened to her own breathing. They walked and walked.
“I’m tired,” Bum announced.
“What? Already? Come on, you can play a while longer.”
“Aish. I’m bored.”
“But monkey-dragon?”
“I don’t know,” said Bum petulantly.
Uh-oh, thought Young-hee. Once he’s like that, he’s not going to last long without a snack and a nap. “How about ten more minutes?”
“I’m bored,” he repeated. Young-hee’s heart dropped. Another plan failed. But then Bum added: “I don’t know where we are.”
Cautiously, Young-hee slipped off the blindfold. The garage was gloomier than ever, the lights faded, the colors were strange. There were no cars anywhere and no people. It was impossibly silent and still. And right in front of them was the strange wooden door. She was back.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s try the door.”
The Story of the Mischievous Green Frogs
Once there lived three very mischievous green frogs. They never listened to their mother, always doing the opposite of what they were told. If their mother said move quickly, they went slowly. If she said “go slow,” they would go fast. If she said “be quiet,” they would shout louder.
After several years, their mother felt herself close to death. She knew she needed to be buried high on a hill, so her body would be safe from the summer rains that always caused the river to flood. But she was worried that if she told her naughty sons to bury her high on a hill, they would put her right at the riverbank. Worried about her afterlife, she decided to trick her sons.
On her deathbed, she called her sons over. “My sons,” she said. “I am old and sick and will not be here much longer. Please, as a last favor to your poor mother, when I die, please bury my body beside the river.”
Soon after that the frog mother died and her sons were sadder than they had ever been. “We’ve been such terrible sons!” they cried. “All our lives we have disobeyed our mother and made her life difficult. But now she is gone from us forever. At long last, let’s listen to what she said and be good sons.”
So the three sons buried their mother close to the river, as she asked. They were pleased with themselves for being so obedient. But a few days later, the summer rainy season started. It poured and poured, and soon the churning river overflowed its banks and washed away their mother’s body.
Which is why today, when it rains, you can hear the frogs crying, “Gaegool, gaegool!” They are crying for their mother.
Young-hee carefully led Bum up the dark stairwell into the warm light and brilliant color of the Strange Land. “Wa,” he said, blinking hard at the giant jureum trees, silky grasses, backward-flowing fountain, and all the other fantastic things. He was frozen in place, like when a sneeze tickles your nose but refuses to explode. And then—“Ya!” he exclaimed, bolting in a run of pure joy. He’s adjusting faster than I did, Young-hee noted with approval, replacing her standard annoyance with pleasure in his joy—while keeping a cautious eye out for carnivorous dragonflies.
It was peaceful in the clearing amid the giant trees and the softly rustling leaves and burbling fountain. Young-hee knew she should introduce her brother to Jiha and Cheonha and make sure they were welcome. But with Bum shouting “Ya” and running in circles, Young-hee decided to let him tire himself out first. Young-hee wondered what Bum was thinking, but whatever it was inspired pure, simple joy, the kind that Young-hee knew she must have had once, when younger. Bum careened from fascinating to even more fascinating things. He rolled in the silken grass, enjoying its dance along his skin. He picked one green blade and divided into myriad thin strips. “Brush,” he said, handing it like an offering to hi
s big sister. “It’s for you. A present.” She accepted it with a droll “thanks.”
Bum ran over to one jureum tree, and Young-hee didn’t like the look in his eyes—a suspicion quickly confirmed when he scrambled up the immense trunk, effortlessly using the thick, cracked bark as hand- and footholds. “Bum, no!” she barked. She knew when her little brother was going to obey and when he was only pausing before the next onslaught of energy, so she turned up the authority in her voice (always far more effective than turning up the volume, she knew). “Bum! Get down right now. Now!” His eyes held hers in a test of wills, but reluctantly, he climbed down. But as he hit the ground, he dashed into the grass by the big hedge. Young-hee spotted Gangjee lying lonely on the ground, forgotten by Bum, so she slid him into her jacket pocket.
“Ya!” said Bum again, this time followed by a loud thwack. He had found a stick, about a meter long and fairly straight, that apparently made a good sword. He cracked it against the ground, the hedge, the tree, and anything else he could strike, while whirling in an elaborate, sword-fighting dance. Young-hee worried that someone, especially the jangseung, might take offense, even though Bum was not inflicting much damage.
“Careful, Bum,” she said. When suffering through the dreariness of school and real life, she had imagined returning to Strange Land and making a new life—maybe never going back. She was resourceful and confident she could get by. Okay, maybe not forever, but at least for a while. But with Bum along, that wasn’t really an option, at least not this trip. She had the granola bars, in case of trouble finding food, and a pocket full of the hair bands that passed as currency last time.
As her mind wandered through the possibilities, Young-hee walked over to the burbling, upward-flowing fountain. The waters laughed and cried, just as she remembered, and the water felt silky cool against her fingers. “Bum, come here a second,” she said. But he didn’t come. She turned around, looking for her ridiculous brother, but he was nowhere to be seen. The clearing was empty. Oh, jeez, she thought. Did he run off already? He couldn’t have gotten far, but Young-hee felt that familiar pressure building in her chest.
Just then, a disheveled head appeared under the dense hedge. “Hiya!” shouted Bum, giggling as he wiggled from underneath the thicket of branches. “I fooled you.” Bum bounded over, stick-sword in hand, completing a spinning-parrying combination on the way. Bum leaned over the fountain wall so far, his feet left the ground. “Wow, what’s this?” he said at a flash of color. “Fish!” he shouted, trying to poke one of the poor creatures with his stick.
“No, Bum,” said Young-hee, relieved that he wasn’t lost, but tired of being a scold. “No hitting. Be nice to the fish.” Bum put the stick down and slid his hand into the water, trying to entice the fish with a friendly gesture. Boys, thought Young-hee, they’re all the same. First thing they want to do is hit and smash. Fortunately, Bum had quickly reverted to his usual sweet self. Young-hee watched carefully, just to make sure the cute, colorful fish didn’t have large, colorful teeth.
“They’re pretty,” said Bum. One fish gave a funny shimmy, gathered speed and followed an upward stream to a higher part of the fountain. “Wow,” said Bum. “That’s so cool.” He splashed the flow with his stick, sending water spraying upward before gravity re-asserted its hold on the little drops, pulling them to the ground. “Our apartment’s fountain isn’t like that.”
“Hmm,” Young-hee agreed.
And then it happened. “Frog!” shouted Bum, and quicker than she thought possible, he leaped into the fountain. She lunged, but clutched only air. With a deep plunkt sound, he was in the water, just like back home.
“Annoying!” she said, as his cannonball splashed all over her and Bum sank below the surface. The water was clean and clear, but the bubbling and churning from the force of the flow made it hard to see clearly. She could make out Bum in a dark corner of the fountain, distorted in the shimmering ripples, but he was not surfacing. “Bum!” she shouted. What was going on? He didn’t look stuck on anything or hurt, but he just sat beneath the surface.
Young-hee had kicked off her shoes to jump after Bum, when suddenly a gush of water burst from the fountain. In it, a large, dark shape sprang rose high into the air, spraying water everywhere. It hopped in a big arc, landing at the foot of a tree, about twenty meters away, by the big hedge. It was a giant green frog. And, Young-hee realized in shock, Bum was on its back. Riding it like a horse. That could not be good, she thought. Before she could call out Bum’s name, the frog jumped again, much higher and farther, flying between two jureum trees. Oh, no, she thought and took chase.
With each jump, the frog covered a lot of ground, as he zigged and zagged through the woods. Growing tired, it was all Young-hee could do to keep them in sight, but she pushed herself harder, determined to keep Bum safe. And then she heard it—Bum laughing. In fact, she was pretty sure she heard a “Whee!” coming from him, and resolved to kill him after she saved him.
Finally, as the end of the jureum tree forest neared and Young-hee thought she might be gaining on them, she saw an immense hole, like an old quarry, half-filled with water. “Bum, don’t go in there!” she shouted. But even as the words left her lips, the giant frog stopped at the lip of the cliff, just long enough for Bum to slide off, and leapt into the water below. Thank goodness for that, she thought.
“What do you think you were doing?” she wheezed between gulps of air.
“The froggy was fun,” said Bum, clearly delighted.
“Bum, that was very dangerous.”
“No, froggy said we should go jumping,” he answered.
“Froggy said?”
“Uh-huh. First he said I shouldn’t be in his fountain, but then he asked if I wanted to play.”
“That giant frog talked? Underwater?” she asked, surprised but not as surprised as she would have been the first time she traveled to the Strange Land. At least it didn’t try to eat Bum. Or her. Yet.
“Hi, froggy!” said Bum waving at the water. Young-hee saw a large pair of eyes at the surface of the water, staring at them.
“Uh, hello, Mr. Frog,” said Young-hee politely. “Thanks for not hurting my brother.”
“Hurt him? Phooey. I wouldn’t dream of it,” answered the frog in a rumbling voice. “Frogs know how to treat guests.”
Phooey? Young-hee recognized the sound of someone insulted, even if it was a frog. Always be reverent and polite, she recalled. Best to do damage control. “Oh, yes, of course,” she said. “Frog hospitality is famous where I’m from. I’m just, as his big sister, it’s my job care for him. I’m sure you understand what family is like.”
The frog stepped from the water, droplets shimmering on its green skin. “Of course,” he said, magnanimously. “I have many siblings and I love them all.”
Young-hee remembered reading that frogs have thousands of tadpoles at a time and shuddered at the thought of thousands Bums running around. “I’m Young-hee, and this is my brother Bum. We’re kind of new here. Are you from around here?”
“Indeed,” said the frog, approaching. “This lake has been my family’s home for generations.”
“It looks very … big,” said Young-hee, not sure what to say to a frog. “Say, would you know an old woman named Grandma Dol who lives in that jureum forest?”
“Granny Dol?” he said, now right in front of them. Young-hee marveled at how the amphibian’s ugly gait carried its great bulk, and could probably carry her as well. A great hopper, but walking was not the frog’s strongest point. “Of course. A fine old stone. My family has basked on her cool surface on many a summer’s day.”
“I see. The last time I was here, she was quite nice to me. I was hoping to see her again.”
“Well, that might be difficult. Many creatures have been leaving those woods. Many bad rumors afoot these days. Changes.”
“Oh, nothing too terrible, I hope.”
“I’m a frog. By night I eat dew. By day I eat sunlight. How can I know?”
“To be honest, I don’t know a lot of frogs. Where I’m from, they’re a lot smaller … and don’t really talk.”
“I’m not surprised. Many of my people are not big talkers. Although we do enjoy a good cry, especially when it is raining.”
“Ah, I know that,” she blurted out excitedly. It was a story everyone knows. “I mean, I’m very sorry for your loss, but you cry because of your mother and the river, right?”
“Thank you for your sympathies, but to be honest it was long ago. And, personally, I think many of my brethren are too full of self-pity. But I am impressed you know of our sad story.” He took a couple of steps closer, looking over Young-hee and Bum. “If you don’t mind me asking, but would you happen to be human children? From the mud world?”
“Yes, we’re bear-children,” said Young-hee, trying to use what she had learned last trip. But her comment annoyed the frog.
“‘Bear children’—phooey,” he said with a rolling ribbit of disgust. “But I’m not surprised. That’s all anyone talks about anymore. But keep in mind, Ms. Young-hee, there are different stories out there. Older stories. And in one of the oldest, it was actually frogs who helped the Son of Heaven create the first man. Frogs have ended kingdoms. Frogs have more power than most people realize.” He half-hopped toward the water.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Frog,” said Young-hee quickly. “I didn’t mean to offend. I bet you are a very noble race.”
The frog turned back. “I did not mean to sound so grouchy,” he said. “There was a time when only our story was known, but that was a very long time ago, and I should not be surprised to hear of bear-sons and bear daughters. I guess I am just tired—I am a prince, too, of sorts, and I have been cursed.”
Young-hee and the Pullocho Page 7