Down in the mortal realm, Tiger and Bear decided they wanted to live as men, so they traveled to the Sacred City to meet Hwanung and petitioned him to turn them into humans. Hwanung warned that the magicks were powerful and the cost great, but both were undeterred. Hwanung finally relented. He gave Tiger and Bear a large bag filled with mugwort, twenty pieces of garlic, and a pullocho; and told them to enter a deep cave high on Mysterious Fragrant Mountain. Hwanung promised that if they stayed for one hundred days, never seeing daylight and eating only the mugwort, garlic, and pullocho, when they emerged they would be human.
Eagerly, Tiger and Bear went into the cave. But time crept slowly in the darkness. Day by day the Mugwort grew drier and more foul, the garlic more harsh, and the pullocho more bitter. Tiger said he hated those plants, and Bear complained she was so very hungry, but they had no choice but to endure.
After just a few day days Tiger gave up, leaving the cave with a bitter growl. But Bear continued to suffer and wait. Finally, after one hundred days, she emerged. Hwanung was very impressed with her patience and turned her into a beautiful woman. But Bear had no one to marry and was very lonely, so she made an altar under the Sacred Sandalwood Tree and prayed. Hwanung heard Bear’s prayers and took pity; he married her and they had a son named Dangun.
Dangun would build the great city of Pyongyang, which grew into the Gojoseon Dynasty, as well as the people of Shilla and Goryeo in the south, and Okcho in the north, plus the Puyeo, the Ye, and the Maek. Dangun governed them all for 1,038 years, until finally he left his kingdom for Mount Asadal, where he became the Spirit of the mountain.
Young-hee felt as if she had been walking through the silent forest forever. At first she had passed the occasional house and, sometimes, other travelers, but now she was on her own. The path, such as it was, kept changing, seemingly without reason: sometimes it was wide and built of large, smooth stones, other times just a dark dirt path. When a hill crested, Young-hee would look to the mountains for a sense of her progress. But with no idea how far she had to go or even where she was going, the journey seemed timeless and endless.
Eventually the sun did go down, so Young-hee laid her sleeping roll in long grass, covered herself with the cloak from Bassam, and balled up her windbreaker for a pillow. She lay close to the road, remembering instructions from Gyeongbi Shin and others about not leaving the path. Luckily, Strange Land’s silky grass seemed clean and bug-free and the ground was reasonably soft. As Young-hee settled down, she noticed a big, round rock with a noble air and wondered if it might also be a person, like Grandma Dol. It was not talking now, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t. “Goodnight, rock,” she said, just in case. Thinking about Bum, she looked up at the bright moon and strange stars, convinced she would never sleep but, after the hard day, she quickly drifted off.
When she woke up, the sun was warming the ground, evaporating the dew around her. She had no idea how long she had slept, but felt surprisingly good after the deepest, most dreamless, purest sleep she had ever known. I guess it’s not surprising you don’t dream in a world that is already a dream, she concluded. Eating a granola bar and some rice cakes, Young-hee spied a pine cone by the rock, added it to her rather full bag, and set out again.
She walked and walked. Every so often, she thought she saw a movement in the woods or heard a rustling in the grass, but no matter how hard she stared, saw nothing. A dark speck moved high across the sky—a bird? The harder she looked, the less sure she was. But a shiver of discomfort that something was spying down on her was real enough. She could do nothing about birds or woodland animals. All she could do was keep walking the lonely path.
Finally, Young-hee just stopped. This is crazy, she thought. I haven’t seen another person for hours. Or a goblin or giant frog or talking totem pole guardian. Nothing. Discouraged, Youngee kicked a small, gray stone at the edge of the road. She needed more advice, she decided. Maybe she could hire a guide. Anything would be better than this interminable walking.
So she decided to head back for help. Turning around, she immediately felt better. Her feet hurt less; her bag was lighter. She had started on this path too quickly, she thought, without proper preparation. Maybe she could even try negotiating with the dokkaebi again.
But she hadn’t backtracked for more than five minutes when, ahead of her, the road split in two directions, and both paths looked the same. Very, very odd, she thought. I definitely don’t remember any intersections.
Determined to get back to the market and the jangseung, she forked left. All the trees and hills had begun to look the same, and the road turned so much she lost track of which way she was going. But after a few more minutes, she came to another fork—this one with three roads diverging. “Jigyeowo!” she growled to no one in particular. “I hate this place. So annoying.”
Once again, all the choices looked the same, and she was absolutely certain there had been no three-way intersection before. She must have taken the wrong path at the last crossroads, she decided, and turned back to take the other choice.
So she walked back. And walked. And walked some more. But even after what felt like forever, there was no intersection at all. Where did it go? she wondered. Just to be sure, she walked ahead a few more minutes, but nothing. And then, in the middle of the road, was a small, gray stone, exactly like the one she had kicked before turning around. Had she passed the intersection without seeing it again? “Bah!” she said, exasperated, and turned around one more time.
Once again, after a little while, she came to a forked path. Not in the same place as last time, but that hardly mattered to Young-hee. This time, she forked right, marching ahead full steam.
Again the road diverged … into four paths stretching into the forest. “Argh!” she shouted. This place is mad! Young-hee kicked at the grass. How could a road change depending on which way she walked? She plunked down on the grass at the side of the road and fumed.
Much fuming later, she resumed walking. Toward Lake Mey. She figured she had little choice but to advance, since return led to chaos. By this time, she was footsore and bored, but she forced herself on, for Bum, and because there was nothing else to do. Taking brief break to massage her feet and adjust her bag, she peered into the dense woods on either side, but heard only the sound of wind brushing the leaves and bushes. She was on her own.
At another break, as she removed her pack, a sudden sound startled her. She looked left and right, suddenly alert. Was it anything? “Hello?” she called and strained her ears through the silence. But nothing.
As soon as she started walking, she heard it again. It was muffled and unrecognizable, but it was something. A mouse watching from the woods? Another frog? “Who’s there?” she asked.
The third time she heard it, she recognized it: a sneeze. That’s odd, she thought. “Hello?” she asked, and as if in response, one more sneeze. Then she noticed a soft rustling coming from under a tree, right by the path. That’s it, she decided, I’m going to see who it is. Or what.
The sounds were coming from the ground, very close. Young-hee stooped over, parted branches and leaves, and dug in the lightly packed earth. Her fingers fumbled and pulled—and, suddenly, Young-hee found herself holding a skull. A human skull.
“Gross!” she said. It must have been there a very long time. It was covered in dirt, with twigs and roots growing inside and through the nose hole. Most of the debris dislodged when she pulled the skull out of the ground, and Young-hee quickly brushed off the rest, revealing a smiling head of bone.
“Oh, thank you!” said the skull, most unexpectedly. “Those roots have been tickling me for years, making me sneeze and sneeze.”
Young-hee had been in Strange Land long enough to get used to surprising things. “No problem,” she said casually. “I hate it when I have allergies and can’t stop sneezing.” She gave the skull another brush and examined its empty eye sockets. They almost seemed soulful. Impulsively, she scratched the bone where a nose once sat.
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��Ah, that is nice.”
“It must be tough, being in the dirt so long, without any fingers. Or ones you can use.” She wondered what other bones were buried there.
“I have been wanting to scratch that itch for more years than you know, girl. That’s wonderful.”
“I’m happy to help,” she said, scratching again. “Would you like something to eat?”
“I’m afraid Bae’s time for eating has long passed,” laughed the skull. “But please, go right ahead. I would be honored to break bread with you.”
Young-hee placed her sleeping roll on the ground like a blanket, and put the skull down beside her. Then she took out a few kaypal balls. “I don’t have a lot, sorry.”
“No, please. After being buried for ages, it is great to see the sunlight again, breathe easily, and have someone to talk to. Especially a bear daughter.”
“Oh,” said Young-hee, “you know I’m human.”
“Well, I do now,” said the skull cheerfully. “I was guessing.”
“Aish,” said Young-hee, telling herself to be more careful. She had a few bites and tried to act naturally. She wasn’t sure of the protocol for skulls. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, are you a ghost?”
The skull laughed. “A ghost? Not like you mean, no. A ghost here must belong to the Ghost Queen, and I promise I am not on her side. No, I’m just a man who lived and died but, for some reason, endures.”
“I see,” said Young-hee, not really seeing. “Is the Ghost Queen not nice?”
“No, not nice at all. Ghosts are a nasty lot—all long black hair and pasty skin and fixated on bloody revenge. There are a few ghosts in these woods, but I never paid them any mind, and none were interested in helping old Bae. They’re always upset about something and full of resentment. They never let anything go. And their Queen is the worst of a bad lot.”
“Some girls said my school has a ghost—a student who died in a terrible accident years ago. I never believed them, though,” said Young-hee. At least being stuck in Strange Land meant she wasn’t stuck in class. “Say, don’t people become ghosts because of injustice or suffering or something like that?”
“Bah, life is full of injustice. Look at me, I’m dead, and you don’t hear me complaining.”
“I suppose not.” She scratched the skull a bit more, trying to think of something to say. “This really is an odd place.” Not a terribly creative comment she thought.
“This forest?” the skull asked.
“No, this whole world. Talking stones and goblins and giant frogs. I think I saw a mountain wander off.”
“And now you’re talking to a bony skull.”
“Exactly,” she laughed briefly. “But it’s stranger than that. I’m supposed to be on this big journey, traveling to Lake Mey and some cave called Darang through the Cheongyong Mountains, and on to the Sacred City. But I have no idea if I’m on the right path. I tried going back for more advice, but the path kept splitting. No one warned me that would happen.”
“Hmm,” said the skull. “Splitting paths are pretty common on big journeys and quests, I do believe. You can’t just stop a quest, you have to keep going. That’s what Bae’s parents always said. But, then, it has been a long time since I walked anywhere.”
“Great,” she said without enthusiasm, unhappy to have another complication to worry about. She put away her food and things as she got ready to walk again.
“Before you go, do you think you could do me a favor?”
“Sure, why not?” she said.
“It’s just that, I’ve been in that hole in the dirt for ever so long, and I’d really prefer not to go back there, not yet. Could you put me up in a tree with a good view of the valley and mountains below?”
That sounded very reasonable, so Young-hee found a thick, gray tree, like a maple, with a nook between two branches about two meters above the ground. “How’s this?”
“Oh, excellent. Much better than the dirty, cold ground. Thank you again.”
“It was nothing. I wouldn’t want to be stuck in the ground either.” She was happy to have helped, but she wanted to get moving. “By the way, you wouldn’t happen to know if I’m on the right path?”
“To the Sacred City? I don’t know. But to Lake Mey, definitely. Keep straight and you’ll get to there soon enough. And past the lake lie the mountains.”
“I was warned that the lake and mountains have a lot of big monsters.”
“Ah, those. I don’t suppose you can call on a heavenly warrior or someone to protect you?”
“No, I’m just me.”
“I see,” said the skull, thinking. “I’ll tell you what—before you go, dig in the ground where you found me.”
Young-hee nearly argued that she was in a hurry, but complied. “What am I looking for?” she asked as her fingers poked through the earth. But as she asked, she felt something cold and hard and metal. She pulled a golden ring from the dirt. It was filthy now, but was finely crafted with a large jade stone.
“In life, that was my ring. Everyone knows about Bae and his elegant jewelry. I’d like you to have it.”
“Oh, thank you so much.”
“At the lake, show it to my friend Mansoo. He’ll recognize it and take you across the lake to the great cave.”
“That’s really nice. But how will I find your friend?”
“Mansoo? Trust me, you can’t miss him. He’s lived there a long time and knows all about the tricks and dangers. Tell him Bae sent you.”
Young-hee held the jade stone to the orange sunlight. Beneath all the dirt, it was probably quite beautiful. “Thank you, Mr. Bae,” she said waving goodbye. “I promise I’ll keep the ring close.” She put the ring in a pocket and was sure she heard the skull whistling happily behind her.
For the next couple of hours the path continued uneventfully, without confusing splits or talking skulls. When it crossed a small stream, Young-hee rinsed the ring in the cool water. The intricately shaped gold formed tiny ivy leaves and branches around the jade stone. She slipped it on her finger, and, although it was a bit big, it looked so nice she decided to wear it.
At last, the fat orange sun grew redder and fatter. On her first night in Strange Land, Young-hee had been surprised at how light the sky was, as if the stars shone brighter here than in the real world. Or maybe it was the sky itself, with its bluish shimmer, like Earth’s during full moon. Even as darkness fell, Young-hee didn’t feel tired and decided to walk a bit further before settling down.
The twisting path descended a slope. The hill loomed behind, casting a large shadow in the gathering gloom. And then, on one turn, the trees pulled back slightly from the path, revealing a good view of the hill above. Young-hee stopped cold—there was someone on the hill, looking down on her.
All she could make out was a distant shadow, a darker sliver against the evening sky. When she had almost convinced herself that it was only a stump or an oddly shaped rock, the shadow disappeared. She double-checked and checked again, but the silhouetted figure was gone. With a shiver running down her spine, Young-hee picked up her pace. She didn’t like the thought of something following her. Not at all.
There were often noises in the forest. Until then, she had managed to convince herself they were little rabbits (cute, even if cunning liars) or frogs (funny, even if huge and grumpy) or other innocuous creatures (harmless, even if talking skulls). But, now, she was scared in a way she had not felt since coming to Strange Land. Losing Bum had been terrible, like a knife in her chest, but that was the pain of losing a person close to you. It was tears, anger, guilt, heartache. This was just fear.
Young-hee hurried down the hill, trying to put distance between her and the shadow. Finally, at the bottom, the road straightened into a nearly straight line. She didn’t like how exposed it looked, so she hugged the trees on the left side of the path, hoping they would conceal her. She sped along, wishing for a curve that would make her harder to spot if anyone was following from a distance. She felt watched.
Finally, she sighed in relief to see the path curve up where the trees seemed higher and thicker. She welcomed the added shelter and began to feel embarrassed for getting so afraid. She was fine.
But just before the road made turned the corner, Young-hee gave one last quick look over her shoulder. And there it was—at the far end of the long, straight road, standing perfectly still: the shadow. Dark and distance shielded it, but whatever or whoever it was seemed to be wearing a light-colored robe.
Young-hee slipped around the bend and, once out of sight, broke into a full run. Behind her, a horrible rattling filled the air. Like a deathly howl. She didn’t like this at all. The road snaked between two big hills. She liked being hidden, but also realized that a winding road also hid what was behind her.
The hill wasn’t too steep, but after two long days of hiking, Young-hee tired quickly and her muscles burned. The road snaked again to emerge on a rocky outcrop. Maybe she could look down at the road, like the thing following her had done. Cautiously, Young-hee crouched and edged her way to the cliff face. She used the highest rock to shield herself as she looked over the edge.
It was hard to see the weaving path through the trees, but her eyes had adjusted and the stars cast light on the forest. No one was walking on the straight stretch, but the trees and darkness hindered a view of the curved sections. Not wanting to waste precious time letting that thing catch up to her, she would pause for just a brief moment, then be on her way again.
She was about to give up and resume running when she saw something in a clearing, barely a hundred meters away. And it was not one, but two shadowy figures. Despite the darkness, she could make out the long, straight black hair, and white clothes—ghosts. And they were both looking right at her.
Young-hee and the Pullocho Page 10