“In Lonely Rock Village, sir.”
“Do you think she’d be willing to sell food to a hungry officer like myself?”
“I will ask her, sir, when I get back home.”
“You do that. Tell her to ask for Constable Lee at the military office in Seogwipo.”
Junja bowed again. “I really must go, sir. If I don’t hurry, these abalone will die.”
“Go along, then! What do you think this is, a social call?” The constable gave her a shove.
The girl started trotting to make up for lost time. She halted when the man shouted at her.
“Wait! What’s your mother’s name? I’ll look for her if you forget!”
“Goh Sookja.”
The constable waved the girl away.
* * *
Junja squinted up at the sun. The air was warming quickly, and she had lost track of how long she had been walking since lunch. Blackbirds were winging their way overhead, squawking. As soon as she heard the gurgling stream, Junja pushed through the trees. She took off the pack so that she could scoop handfuls of water into her mouth. She rinsed her face and neck before putting the pack back on.
The wide footpath, which had sloped gently at first, grew steeper and narrower as it threaded through evergreens, losing its smooth stamped surface and looking more like a faint trail scratched out by animals. The pack pulled at Junja like an anchor. Sweat trickled down her back, stinging where the straps had rubbed her skin raw. Grit and pebbles had needled into the straw shoes.
With a grunt, Junja kept walking, ignoring the pain in her feet and the lightheadedness that made her want to lie down and sleep. So intent was her concentration on keeping her foothold that when the blur of fur and snout jumped up into her face, the girl was too startled to be afraid.
A boar? She staggered backward, bracing herself for an agony of hooves and tusks.
The heavy pack thudded against a tree, breaking her fall. Junja kept her eyes closed, arms crossed over her face. This was all her fault, for not following Mother’s directions to pay attention.
“Are you all right?”
At first, the girl thought that the beast had spoken to her in a human voice, like beasts often did in the stories Grandmother told. Junja peeked through her arms. Below her was a large yellow-white dog. He was looking up at her, pink tongue lolling out.
“What did you say?” The girl looked down at the dog, which closed its mouth and cocked its head at her question.
“My dog didn’t say anything at all.” A tall boy with a walking stick stepped out of the green shadows. One bushy eyebrow was raised in amusement, and his shaggy cropped hair was pulled back from his forehead by a scholar’s manggeon. Except for that black headband, he was dressed like any other man on Jeju, in baggy pants and a shirt the color of dried mud.
“Who are you?” Junja grew alert. This ungainly boy looked strange enough to be a mountain troll, a dotchebbi who would steal her basket and torment her. If only she hadn’t thought those horrible thoughts! Mother was right; she had breathed bad luck into her venture by saying those stupid things.
“My name is Yang Suwol. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” The boy’s speech was polished, like a scholar’s, and his bow stiff. His prominent nose was crooked, as if it had changed directions midcourse, and his jaw was shaped like a spade. His eyes seemed to disappear into his cheeks when he grinned.
Was he smiling or smirking? Junja scowled when she realized she could not move. “Your dumb mutt shouldn’t be running about scaring people.” She tried to take a step away, but the pack didn’t budge.
The boy crossed his arms as the crook of his grin deepened. “My dog did not scare you; you scared yourself. And he’s not dumb; he’s the cleverest dog on Hallasan.”
Junja grunted. The pack was wedged tightly between two saplings.
“Actually, he’s more intelligent than some people.”
The girl’s eyes blazed. “Don’t just stand there. I’ve got to bring this basket to the pig farmer’s wife of Cloud House while the abalone are still alive.”
The boy yelped, leaping forward to tug at the basket. “My mother’s been waiting all morning!” He braced his legs as he tried to pull the basket free of the trees.
“Careful! If you break it, everything will spill.”
The basket creaked ominously but held together as it slipped free. The weight resettled on Junja’s shoulders, making her gasp.
The tall boy did not speak as he began loosening the ties at Junja’s waist.
“What are you doing?” Junja was shocked by the boy’s casual license. Who did he think he was to stand so close that she could smell his musk? She flushed.
The boy cleared his throat. “I’m going to take the pack from you. Your feet are bleeding.” He was taking care not to touch her as he began to unwind the bindings.
Junja looked down. One of mother’s straw shoes had fallen off. The white dog was sniffing a bloom of red oozing through the socks.
“It doesn’t bother me too much.”
“It bothers me, though.” The boy motioned to Junja to remove the gourd around her neck. The sweeping motion of his hand was so elegant that Junja could not help noticing how long his fingers were, with clean nails trimmed close to the tips.
She hesitated before deciding that there wasn’t enough time to argue. She gave the gourd to the boy, who set it down on the ground before lifting the pack off her shoulders.
The sudden absence of her burden made Junja’s body feel curiously light, as if she might float off the ground. She grabbed a tree as the ground seemed to tilt beneath her.
“This is really heavy! I can’t believe you carried it this far.” The boy looked at Junja with respect. “Who are you?” He hoisted the pack with a grunt onto his back.
“Goh Junja.”
“I guess it’s true what they say about you haenyeo being tougher than most men.” The tall boy settled the pack on his shoulders and began winding the ties around his waist. “Could you help secure this thing, please?”
Junja bound the pack to the boy, handing him the loose ends of the ties, which he joined in a complicated knot low on his waist. After planting his stick, the boy took several brisk steps up the mountain path. The white dog followed, but then stopped, whining in concern.
Junja was holding onto a tree as the world seemed to whirl around her.
The boy crossed his arms as he studied her. “Dizzy?”
Junja nodded.
“You need water.” The boy handed her the gourd, motioning for her to take a drink.
Junja pushed it away. “That’s saltwater, for the pack. I was supposed to pour it over everything when I reached the grandfather rock. The sun will be high in the sky soon, and the abalone will die.” She turned her head so that the boy couldn’t see her tears of frustration.
“Don’t worry, miss. I’ll take care of everything.”
Junja tried to stand. “I have to go with you …”
“You’ll slow me down if you follow. I won’t forget to water the basket. Please stay here, and I’ll send someone to get you. Do you understand?”
A sudden wave of dizziness made Junja slide to the ground. She managed to nod as she closed her eyes.