Young-hee and the Pullocho (25 page)

“That's Gumiho, right? The nine-tailed fox?”

“Yes, Gumiho. She is a special kind of evil. She only wants two things: to become human and to destroy everything in creation.”

“Wow,” said Young-hee, “that's really psycho.”

“Indeed.”

“Everyone knows about the becoming human thing. But I thought Fox was more like Rabbit—playing tricks and being sneaky.”

“No, Gumiho is the most dangerous of the sisters, but none can be trusted. Which is why I am skeptical of your plans.”

“But I don't know any other options.”

“You could forget about the pullocho. Our world is a vast and splendid place. You could step off the path and make your own way, as I have done.”

The memory of the phone call still stinging, Samjogo's suggestion just upset Young-hee. “The pullocho is not for me, it's to get my brother back. He's just a little boy. And it's my fault he got in trouble. I have to save him.”

“Maybe he doesn't need saving. Besides, didn't you say you found him more annoying than anything? Perhaps he's getting what he deserved.”

“You should
shut up
,” snapped Young-hee. Guilt stung deep as she recalled things she had said and thought about Bum. Just then, she felt something warm and furry. Tiger was rubbing his cheek lightly against her, like a kitten trying to get attention.

“So, Tiger, tell us,” said Samjogo, changing the subject, “how do you know the sisters?”

“I've had … business with all three,” he said, grimacing.

“Business?”

“Ungnyeo, the Bear, and I competed to be the first humans.”

“That was you?” exclaimed Young-hee.

“That was Tiger, so yes, me. You probably have not heard of Sanyeo, the Snake, though. After she seduced the holy servant of the Heavens, causing him to lose grace and protections, it fell on me to eat him. He was tasty but, I assure you, you don't want to upset Heavenly servants,” he looking a little guilty.

“And Gumiho?” asked Young-hee

“It was wicked and cruel Fox who gave me my stripes,” he grimaced at the very thought.

“Wait, I know that story,” said Young-hee. “A fire singed black lines onto your body. But didn't Rabbit start it?”

“Only kind of. Rabbit is not cruel, though he is smarter than I am and always escapes me. This one time, he promised to scare swallows into my mouth, so he could run away while my eyes were shut. But as he ran, he met Fox, who convinced him to set the fire and kill me.”

“Wow, that's terrible.”

“She's done it before. Once I caught Fox—not my usual meal, but you eat anything when hungry enough. She held up these stones and told me they were bread rolls. Even I am not that dumb, but she promised that cooking would make them soft and delicious. Foolish me, I believed her. So evil Fox was heating the stones in a fire, when she said, ‘Oh, I have to go get some kimchi to go with the buns. Now, don't you eat any of my ten rolls.' Well, there were eleven, so I thought at last I'd outsmart Fox. I could eat one, and there would be ten left. So I swallowed a stone—and, of course, it burned my mouth and belly so badly I stayed in bed and couldn't eat anything for a month. Fox just laughed and told all the other animals, who laughed too.”

Tiger's stories were grisly and horrible, but also so foolish, Samjogo tried to hide his amusement. Young-hee scowled. “How can you laugh?”

“I think you misunderstand Tiger and our land. He acted according to his nature. It would be an affront not to laugh at his silliness.”

“Still, it's pretty crappy to laugh at suffering, no matter whose.”

Eventually the sun grew heavy and more orange. Sundown was approaching. The path took them through a birch grove, so white that the trees glimmered. Young-hee noticed the birds again, perched in the birches.

“Are those birds watching us? I think they're the ones from that zelkovia tree, where we met Tiger.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because they're all different kinds, with no two matching. I've never seen a flock like that.”

His interest peaked, Samjogo looked up. “Hmm. No pigeons—terrible animals—so that is good. But you are right, they all seem different. I see a finch, a nightingale, a
hootooti
.”

“A hootoo-what?”

“A hootooti. An
odisae
. That bright yellow bird with the big crown of feathers.” Samjogo seemed distracted, his lips moving; Young-hee realized he was counting. “Huh, thirty birds. That is … odd.”

“Don't you mean thirty-one?” she countered. “Including you.”

“Me?”

“You are the three-legged bird of great power, as I recall.”

“Not the same thing. But, still, very odd.”

But before Young-hee could ask what Samjogo meant, Tiger interrupted. “That's it,” he said, motioning ahead. Past the birch grove, on the grassy hill, stood a wall made of stone and wood, surrounding a run-down
hanok
house. “That's where the animal sisters live.”

The Tale of Frog, Rabbit, and Deer

One day, Frog, Rabbit, and Deer decided to have a party. Each would set a table with food and drink according to his customs. But they needed to decide the tables' order. All agreed it should go by age, with the eldest in the most prominent position; however, they didn't know their ages.

Deer spoke first: “Before there were any men in the land, I climbed the Sacred Sandalwood Tree and hammered all the stars onto the sky. Clearly, I am the most ancient of creatures.”

Rabbit was unimpressed. “Ah, that was you?” he said. “For I was the one who planted the Sandalwood Tree. So clearly, I am older than you, younger brother.”

The Frog started to cry. “Oh, I'm sorry to weep in front of you like this. But your stories reminded me of my three sons. When young, each planted a tree. I used the wood from one tree to make the hammer Deer used to nail the stars in place; from second son's tree, I made the great plow that furrowed the tracks in the heavens for the Milky Way; and from my third son's tree, I made the carts that carry the sun and the moon across the sky. But all three sons have passed away, and I miss them very much.”

And as Frog finished his story, Deer and Rabbit agreed he was the eldest of the animals.

In the evening dusk, the animal sister's hanok
was eerily silent. No smoke emerged from any chimney. Young-hee wondered what to do if no one was there.

Ramshackle and decrepit, the hanok's curved, tiled roof sagged and lacked many shingles, the white walls were faded and mildewed, and the stone fence surrounding the property was cracked and uneven. A sad, half-dead persimmon tree rose over one wall, before drooping—as if gathering sunlight wasn't worth the bother. The whole estate had definitely seen better days.

“This wreck is home to the mighty animal spirits?” asked Samjogo in disbelief.

“It's nicer on the inside, I am told,” said Tiger. “But impressive appearances are not the ladies' priority.”

“Come on. Even if it's rundown, it's better than being out in the open,” Young-hee urged, unable to shake the bad feeling from the ghost that spotted her that morning. Samjogo may have driven it away, but there were always more.

The surrounding stone walls were too high to look over and, even in decay, they looked daunting. Around a corner, they found a heavy wooden gate. It looked new and strong, with a fresh coat of varnish, and well-polished
moongeori
. These brass knockers, centered on each of the double doors, were shaped like the heads of growling, fierce animals. As Samjogo reached for a knocker, Young-hee thought she saw the animals bare their sharp teeth. She had been in Strange Land long enough to yell: “Samjogo, stop!” He looked at her quizzically. “The door knocker. I don't think it's safe to touch.”

Just an inch beyond his fingers, Samjogo saw an open mouth, poised to take a bite. He drew back his fingers, leaving the ornament snapping at air. “Well now,” he said. “That's just not nice.”

“Shove off!” “Get lost!” barked the knocker.

“And rude,” noted Young-hee.

“You're not wanted here,” snarled the other knocker. “Not invited. No trespassing.”

Tiger examined the surly ornaments. “Lions—
pah
,” he said. “Powerful guardians, but no manners.”

“But how do you know we are not wanted if the ladies of the house don't know we're here?” asked Samjogo.

“We are the guardians of the doorway,” sniffed the right-hand brass lion. “It is our duty to protect this home and bar outsiders.”

“I'm sure you are excellent guardians,” Young-hee flattered, “and we would never ask you to shirk your duties. But we have important business and promise we would never make trouble.”

“Oh, you promise?” said the right-hand lion mocked. “Well, that changes everything. Go right in.”

“Really?” ventured Young-hee.

“Of course not,” said the other brass lion. “Beat it.”

“Take a hike,” echoed the first lion. “Get lost.”

I am lost
, thought Young-hee. But each insult changed her insecurity to anger. “So, what do you think?” she asked Samjogo. “Maybe we can just open the door.” Seeing no handles or latches, she gave a good shove, careful to avoid the metallic mouths. But the door would not budge.

“Hanok doors lock from the inside,” said Samjogo. “Usually a heavy wooden
bitjang
crossbar between two
doontae
supports.”

“Nice try, loser,” sneered one ornament.

“Should we just go over the wall?”

“Hah!” laughed the lions.

“No, doubtless this home is protected by magicks,” said Samjogo. “Climbing the walls will only bring trouble. I'm guessing the hanok will just appear deserted.”

“Oh, look who's so smart,” said the left lion.

“You be quiet or I'll hang a big hat on you,” snapped Young-hee.

Suddenly, a great crashing noise rung out as the stone walls and great wooden gate rattled and shook. Tiger had thrown himself full-force into the doors. But the gate held, leaving Tiger with nothing but bruises for his efforts.

“Careful, silly Tiger,” said Young-hee, petting her furry companion behind his head. He looked goofy as he nursed his bruised body and pride, but Young-hee appreciated his willingness to help.

Just then Samjogo's face lit with a pleased-with-himself smile. “Guardians!” he exclaimed. “Perhaps we were not clear. We are not asking you to let us in. We are telling you. We are on a mission … from Moonjeon.”

“Moonjeon?” said the right lion warily.

“The god of doorways?” said his partner.

“None other,” crowed Samjogo. “Moonjeon sent us with orders that you let us pass.”

“And why should we believe you?” asked the right ornament.

“What evidence do you have?” asked the left.

“Why, we are the evidence, noble
moongeori
. My friend here is Tiger. And I am Samjogo, the three-legged bird as well as a man, which makes me a type of rooster. And everyone knows that the god of doorways exists between a Tiger and a Rooster.”

Samjogo's words clearly impressed the two lions. “Between tiger and rooster, that is true,” offered the left guardian. “And if they are emissaries from Moonjeon, we would not want His Greatness angry at us.”

“But if we let them pass, and Moonjeon had not sent them, the god of doorways would rip us off this gate and melt us for chopsticks.”

As the guardians bickered, it grew ever darker. As Young-hee was thinking how little she liked standing exposed on the lonely hilltop, she heard it—the slow, sickly rattle of ghosts, rising over the hills like the dry howls of a wolf.

“Oh no,” said Young-hee, as a deathly chill passed over her.