by Lyn Worthen
Tim followed, taking a seat on one of the stools parked next to the large kitchen island.
“Your mother had a tattoo just like that,” Ian began, his back to Tim as he stirred the meat browning in the skillet. “But hers was green… with a little gold. She said it was called an Imuji.”
Tim recognized the word – it was the same one Zeus had used. “What does it mean?”
“It’s a proto-dragon from Korean mythology. They say that after a thousand years, Imuji can become full-fledged mountain dragons.”
“Cool.”
Ian turned back toward Tim, and began chopping up a green bell pepper. “Grab me a can of stewed tomatoes, will you?” he asked, his tone still conversational. “So why’d you get that particular tattoo?”
“Didn’t. I woke up this morning and it was just there,” Tim said, getting up to rummage through the cupboard.
Ian was silent.
“And this afternoon, when I yelled at Lo—” Tim continued.
“You yelled at Lo?”
“—the dragon glowed, and I breathed out fire at him.”
“Oh, dear.”
“He’s okay,” Tim said, turning to face his father. “But that’s not all. I… okay, you’re not going to believe this… like me breathing fire is easy to believe… but… well… this afternoon, after school, I turned into a dragon – this dragon—” he pointed at his arm, “—and I was flying. I don’t know how or why, and I’m not on drugs or anything, and… well… I really need to know… a lot of things, I guess, but mostly about mom.”
He put the can on the counter and stood there staring at his father. Ian was still chopping the green pepper – he’d minced it nearly to oblivion. Tim reached out and put a hand on top of his father’s.
“Dad. Talk to me.”
His father closed his eyes.
“Dad?”
“Min Sook Kyoh… your mom… is an Imuji.”
“My mom is a Korean proto-dragon?”
“It sounds worse when you put it that way.”
“I think I’m an Imuji, too. So it’s already worse,” Tim said. “Tell me about her.”
“I was in the Army, stationed in Hawaii, when I met her. Min Sook was so beautiful – it was a whirlwind romance.” He looked up at Tim, a wistful expression on his face, the chopping knife forgotten in his hand. “We’d gone up to Manoa Falls for the day, and I asked her to marry me. She panicked. And then all of a sudden she jumped up and transformed into this big, green, snaky dragon – I’ll never forget it – it was both terrifying and amazing at the same time.”
“I know.”
Ian nodded. “She just flew away. I looked for her everywhere, but I never found her. A few months later, I was transferred back to the mainland.”
Tim had retrieved the can opener and opened the can of tomatoes while his dad talked, trying to pretend that this was just an ordinary dinner-making conversation so it didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.
“But… if you never found her, then where did I come from?” he asked.
Ian chuckled and scraped the pulverized green pepper into the skillet. “Funny you should ask. A few months later – I’d been transferred to California by then – Min Sook showed up at my door. She was carrying this big basket…”
“Me?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Ian said adding the tomatoes to the skillet then stirring the mixture and testing its flavor. “You want to get the water started for the pasta?”
Tim pulled a big pot from the cupboard and filled it. As he carried it over to the stove and turned on the burner under it, Ian continued with his story.
“Anyway, so the basket had a giant egg in it, about the size of a football, all brown and leathery. She held it up, and said, ‘Here. Keep it warm, but not too warm, and when the shell gets hard, that’s when you know it’s about to hatch.’ I just stared at her, like an idiot.”
Tim dropped heavily onto the stool, his head exploding for what must have been the hundredth time that day. He thought he had a pretty good idea of how his dad must have felt.
“Well, I had no idea what to say, so I just said, ‘I love you, Min Sook.’ She smiled and said ‘And I love you, but we are not meant to be.’ Then she pushed the basket into my hands, said, ‘This is your child, Ian. Take care of it,’ and kissed me. And then she flew away again.”
“And that was it?” Tim asked, incredulous. “You haven’t seen or heard from her since?”
His dad shrugged. “When you finally… hatched, you seemed perfectly normal – no scales or anything. So I never saw any reason to tell you what your mother was.”
Tim looked at the dragon tattoo, coiled peacefully on his forearm, and ran his finger over it. “I thought it was a Chinese dragon,” he said. “Another of Lo’s pranks.”
“According to Min Sook,” Ian said. “The potential to become Imuji runs through family bloodlines, but not everyone actually transforms.” He rinsed the knife and cutting board and put them into the dishwasher. “The mark of the Imuji appears on the chosen one when they turn seventeen–”
“Like I just did.”
“Like you just did.”
“I need to think about this, Dad.”
“I’m sure you do. I’ll be here, when you need to talk.”
They ate in silence. About halfway through the meal, Ian dug his wallet from his pocket, pulled out a small photograph and silently slid it across the table toward Tim.
Two people smiled up at him from a park bench, lush foliage and a glimpse of hills and water in the background. Tim recognized a much younger version of his father, in the white shirt with rank insignia and ribbons of his Army uniform, but it was the woman seated beside him who captured his attention.
He didn’t know much – anything, really – about Korea or his own cultural heritage beyond what he’d picked up from a bit of web browsing after watching a cool series on Netflix about the legendary Queen Seondeok, so he was a little surprised to see his mother dressed in a colorful sundress rather than an elaborately embroidered dress like he’d seen on the TV show.
She was laughing, her eyes bright, her smile lighting up her face. A breeze had caught a strand of her long dark hair – or maybe the photographer had just snapped the photo as she turned her head to face the camera.
So this was Min Sook Kyoh. His mother.
It seemed to Tim that she was looking right at him.
After dinner, Tim logged onto his computer, and looked up everything he could find about the Imuji. But in the back of his head, he kept hearing Zeus’ voice saying ‘talk to your mother,’ and he knew, deep down, that he was just procrastinating.
It was late when he came out of his room, and the house was dark. Tim crossed the living room silently, and reached for the doorknob.
“You’re going to look for Min Sook, aren’t you?” Ian’s voice said softly, from the shadows.
Tim turned toward the sound, his eyes barely able to see his father’s silhouette in the darkened room.
“I have to find her.”
“Be safe,” Ian said. “And when you find her… tell her I still love her. I always have.”
“I think I knew that,” Tim said.
# # #
Tim slipped out of his house, filled with determination that ebbed before he reached the sidewalk. He had no idea how to deliberately transform into a dragon. He had no idea where to begin looking for his mother.
“It’s about time you showed up,” said a familiar voice.
Lo stepped out from the shadow of a nearby tree. He was wearing a long black leather trench coat, which hung open over jeans and a dark t-shirt. “I was beginning to think I’d misread you, and you weren’t going to go searching for your roots after all.” He stepped forward and threw his arm around Tim, turning him back toward his front yard. “I much prefer it when I’m right.”
Lo whistled, and a moment later there was a rush of wind and a small chariot pulled by a pair of winged horses landed in Tim’s front
yard, Maddie holding the reins.
“Come on. World’s not safe for an inexperienced junior deity,” Maddie said. The glow of the streetlight reflected off her shiny black leather jacket and large dark glasses, but instead of dreadlocks, her head was now surrounded by a writhing, twisting mass of small snakes, hissing and snapping at Tim until she told them to shut up.
Tim just stood there, gaping at her. “You’re a… a…”
“I’m a Gorgonette. Yeah. I know. But you’re perfectly safe as long as I keep my glasses on,” she said as the horses, their wings now folded gracefully along their backs, munched on the lawn.
“And they’re…”
“Pegasi. Flying horses. My aunties gave them to me when I turned sixteen – much better than a car, don’t you think?” She favored him with a dazzling smile. “Now that we’ve got all that settled, are you ready?”
Tim took a step back, his head whipping from Maddie to Lo so fast he risked whiplash. “This is all a crazy dream,” he said. “I’m going to wake up and it’s going to be this morning, and none of this will have happened.”
“Have it your way,” Maddie said with a shrug.
“Of course,” Lo said, taking a step toward him, “the next time you decide to breathe fire at someone, they might not be invulnerable…”
Tim pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “What’s going on?” he said. “Who are you people?”
“We’re junior deities, like you – so are lots of the kids at Olympus High,” said Lo. “She’s a Gorgonette, like she said. My dad’s Loki – don’t say a thing,” he added warningly as Tim’s mouth fell open.
“Now that you’re coming into your powers, you’ll start noticing more of us,” Maddie said. “We don’t bother to shield ourselves from each other – only the mortals.”
“Zeus told me I had to learn to shield myself,” Tim said, unable to keep a slight groan from his voice. “That I need to find my mother.”
“Which is why we’re here,” said Maddie.
Lo grinned. “You didn’t think we were going to let you go wandering off by yourself, did you? We look after our own.”
Maddie’s snakes abruptly began to hiss. She listened intently for a moment, then turned to Tim. “C’mon,” she said. “Anansi’s got the web ready. We should go.”
Tim looked from Maddie to Lo, confused. “Go? The web? I just did a thorough web search, and I didn’t find much—”
“Not the internet,” Lo said, propelling Tim into the chariot behind Maddie. “Anansi’s is the original web. If you want to find your mother, he can tell you where you need to look.”
Maddie flicked the reins and the horses began to trot, then unfurled their wings and leapt into the air. Tim grabbed onto the chariot’s side-rail and held on for dear life as they shot upward, houses, streetlights, and car headlights winking below them.
“Who is Anansi?” he asked.
“You know him from school as Alan Sims,” said Lo. “Short little guy, always telling stories.”
“The Jamaican,” added Maddie as she steered the chariot into a more level flight path. “He’s the spinner of all stories – and he’s connected to spinners around the world. If anyone can help you find where you came from, it’s him.”
“My dad told me part of the story tonight,” Tim said, grateful to have someone willing to help him learn the ropes. “I think she’s probably somewhere in Korea. It’s where she’s from. She’s an Imuji, too… um… like me…” He left the sentence hanging, not sure what to say next.
“Never said that before, have you,” said Lo, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It gets easier.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes, then the chariot touched down somewhere in the foothills east of Salt Lake City, the city glittering in the distance.
There was a scuttling in the bushes, and then someone who looked like a cross between an extremely huge spider and a very small, brown-skinned man wearing a flowered shirt and a stovepipe hat stepped out from the scrub oak.
“Come, come, the web is ready an’ waitin’ for your questions,” Anansi said, his voice a rough sing-song. He walked on four of his spider legs, using the other four as arms, which he waved energetically.
“You’re a junior deity?” Tim blurted out.
“Ho-ho, that I am,” laughed Anansi. “I am Anansi. My father is Anansi. The Great Web and all its stories – all are Anansi.” The spider tipped his hat to them, then spun nimbly on his dancing feet and disappeared into the bushes.
Tim, Lo, and Maddie followed Anansi into the brush, ducking under the low branches of the twisted live oak trees, until they reached an enormous spider web that glowed in the moonlight.
“Whoa. When you said ‘web,’ I didn’t know you meant an actual web,” whispered Tim.
Anansi scuttled up into the center of the silken strands and settled himself, a hand or foot on each of the eight major threads, then looked at Tim.
“Now, what is it you be wantin’ to know, boy?”
Tim hesitated. Lo gave him a shove.
“Well? Time’s a wastin’,” said Anansi.
“I’m looking for my mother, Min Sook Kyoh,” Tim said. “She is from Korea, and she is an Imuji.”
Anansi nodded, slowly at first, then faster, his head bobbing and body bouncing as he tapped his hands and feet against the strands. Faster and faster he moved, until the web began to thrum, the sound echoing off the hills.
As the strands vibrated, the web changed, with sparks and lights, flashes of images, and new strands forming between the spokes of the main web. Smaller webs wound inside of those, until the web was a nearly solid weave of colored silk, showing a young Asian woman outside a building that looked like a mountain shrine. She had half-turned, and it seemed to Tim that she was looking directly at him, her expression wistful.
“That’s her,” Tim whispered. “She looks just like she did in the photo – not a day older.”
“So she is,” sang Anansi. “An’ so she be.”
“Can you find this place?” Tim asked Maddie.
Maddie studied the five rounded mountains painted on the web. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I can.”
Anansi scuttled down to the image and snipped it from the weave. He deftly folded it into a neat package that he bound with a length of the strong webbing, then gave it to Tim. “This be your story now, boy-o,” he said. “Tell it well.”
Tim accepted the weave from the great spider with thanks and tucked it into the inside pocket of his green and gray letterman jacket next to his cell phone.
“I should really fly on my own,” Tim said hesitantly as they walked back to the chariot, even though he was still at a loss for how to change into his dragon form.
“It’s a long way to Korea,” said Maddie, climbing into the chariot and taking up the reins. “Are you ready for an all-night flight?”
“Well… when you put it that way,” said Tim, breathing a sigh of relief. “It’s not like I’ve had that much practice.” He and Lo climbed in behind Maddie, and she clucked the horses into motion.
The horses spread their wings and dove off the side of the mountain, flapping their powerful wings in great sweeps, the cool night air rushing past them. Tim clutched the side-rail, his heart pounding; opposite him, Lo was laughing, his long coat flapping out behind them.
They settled into cruising altitude, moonlight reflecting off the salt flats below with an otherworldly glow. As Tim slowly relaxed his death-grip on the side-rail, he thought about the face of the beautiful Asian woman – his mother’s face – looking over her shoulder at him in the weave.
# # #
Tim awoke to daylight and cool mist on his face, and a view from the back of the chariot of seemingly endless mountains, the shadows of jagged, angular peaks drawing a ragged line at the horizon.
He pulled himself up to a standing position in the chariot.
“About time you woke up,” said Maddie. “Isn’t this view to die for?
Ahead of them lay the five rounded, rocky peaks poking up through wispy clouds. Tim gaped in amazement. It was like someone had placed a row of giant granite eggs on top of a larger mountain, which was covered with a grove of dark pines.
“So this is Korea?” he asked.
“Well, part of it, anyway,” said Lo.
“Look,” said Maddie. A trio of large Imuji, one green, one blue, and one black, were rapidly approaching.
“Looks like this is the place,” Lo murmured.
Tim felt panicky. Was the green one his mother? Did they speak English? Would the Imuji listen to him – or would they simply knock the chariot out of the sky?
The Imuji reached them quickly, flying in looping circles around the chariot, altering their course. As they swirled around them, sunlight reflecting off their iridescent scales, Tim’s arm began to tingle. He pushed up his sleeve and saw that his tattoo was moving again, gently stretching, as though waking up.
He raised his arm. “Hello!” he called out as the blue Imuji flew overhead. “I seek Min Sook Kyoh.”
The blue Imuji looped back, coming up behind the chariot and keeping pace with it, and studied Tim’s tattoo. Then it opened its mouth and blew a gentle, warm light at Tim. As he felt himself shifting into his dragon form, he twisted around toward Lo and Maddie.
“Just go,” said Lo. “Find your mother. We’ll be waiting… with them,” he gestured at the other dragons, “wherever it is they’re taking us.”
Tim nodded, his dragon-body already rising out of the chariot. He hovered there for a moment, watching his friends fly away with the black and green dragons, then he pushed himself through the air to catch up with the blue Imuji.
# # #
They flew around the five rounded peaks, looping lower and lower into a cool, pine-scented canyon, cut by a rushing river far below. Finally, the blue Imuji slowed, then stopped, hovering like a great “S” at the top of a low waterfall which splashed into a small, shaded lake.
Just beyond the lake lay a cluster of buildings with gently curved roofs and muted screen walls tucked into the deep, wooded valley just beyond. It was exactly like the image he’d seen in Anansi’s web, but the reality was even more breathtaking. Tim thought it was one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen.