“Oppa, where are you? I can’t see you….”

“I’m right here beside you. Are you all right? Does it hurt?”

“I’m afraid, oppa. I’m so afraid. Everything is so dark and I’m so cold.”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here with you. Stay with me.”

Haenyeo arched her back and stretched. Beside her on the couch, Eun-Mi balanced a laptop on her knees and, while she watched, she typed. Every few minutes, she blew her nose and let out a shuddering sob.

On the far side of the sofa, Eun-Mi’s grandmother dabbed her tear-streaked eyes and munched on a slice of apple she’d stabbed with the tongs of her dessert fork.

Haenyeo watched them, curious at their display of emotion, and then turned her attention back to the wide screen television where an evening drama was playing.

“Oppa. Your hands are so warm. I never want to let them go.”

“Hold on darling. Everything is going to be all right. Hold on. Listen to my voice. Can you hear me?”

Seung-Bae had deposited her here earlier in the evening, promising to come back for her as soon as he could. He had a dinner engagement with his father, something he’d said he couldn’t get out of, but still she felt unhappy being left … again.  

“There are thousands of So-Yeon’s listed for Seoul,” Eun-Mi sniveled. “Can you remember anything more specific about her? Like how old she is?”

“She was young, and very beautiful. She brought food, and cleaned.”

“She was a maid? How long ago was it that you knew her?”

“The memory is from fifty years ago.”

“What? Fifty years ago? Well she wouldn’t be young anymore. And I doubt she is a maid anymore either. Let’s see, that would put her somewhere near seventy or so, wouldn’t it?” Eun-Mi blew her nose and began typing again.

Seung-Bae had seemed annoyed that he had to leave her, but as she’d watched him prepare she’d felt puzzled and anxious. He’d gone in to the bathroom as the boy she knew and come out not long after resembling some exotic and elegant prince. The cloths he normally wore, jeans and soft knit shirts, had been abandoned in favor of a crisp, white button down and a black suit that clung to his lean frame. His long hair had been pulled back away from the angular lines of his face and captured into a knot on the back of his head. He looked taller, graceful… and disturbingly devastating.

She worried at her lip as she remembered the figure he’d cut moving across the living room. His transformation was an alarming reminder of her own deliberate acts of seduction. And he wasn’t dressing this way for her…        

“Oppa. I’m so cold.”

“Hold on. Stay with me. We’re almost there. The doctor will fix everything. Everything is going to be alright. Stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay with me!”

Tears streamed down Eun-Mi’s face and her nose swelled into an over-ripe cherry. She let out a breathy, whimpering whine.

The grandmother fanned her face with her fingertips and gulped.

“Well, there are three hundred So-Yeon’s in Seoul over age sixty-five,” Eun-Mi sobbed. “That narrows it down a lot. Were you able to remember her family name?”

Haenyeo twisted the silver ring around her finger as she chewed at the end of a fiery curl and tried to visualize the memory. It had been so clear, but now it slipped between images of Seung-Bae’s smile and the sweep of dark hair across his eyes, flickering then fading. She struggled to pull the pieces together and hear the words.

Beside her, the grandmother reached over to swat at Haenyeo’s hand, then pulled the mangled red hair out of and, to replace it, pressed an apple slice to her lips.

“Umm … Unng? Chung?” She took the fruit into and at it.

“Chung So-Yeon?” Eun-Mi sniffed.

“Yes. That was it.”

On the television screen, the young man lifted his dying love onto his back.  He pulled her arms around his neck and, bending low to keep her balanced, tucked her limp legs around his waist. Then he raced along the dark and lonely forest roadside towards the village. Tears flowed from his eyes but his face was set in a fierce mask of determination.

The scene made her think of Seung-Bae’s back – it had been wide and warm. She closed her eyes and remembered their ride through the city. The movement of his muscles tensing and shifting as he guided them along. His heat on her cheek when she rested against his shoulder. The sound of his voice playing in her ears. The ends of his hair stealing across her face and slipping between her lips.

Her knee began a nervous bounce.

Nestled into her lap was the cell phone he’d given her. She pressed the button, just as he’d shown her how to do, and watched as the device flickered to life. He’d set it to display a picture he’d taken of the two of them. On the screen, his face leaned into hers and his arm encircled her shoulders. A smug smile twisted his lips. She ran her tongue over hers and remembered the taste of him.

From down the hall, a shrill chirping sounded. Eun-Mi jumped up off the couch.

“That’s mine,” she wailed and stumbled off to her bedroom. The door slammed shut behind her.

On the television screen, music began to play, and the drama drew to a close. An image of the young man’s tortured face was frozen, larger than life, in the background as words scrolled over him. The lover on his shoulder had begun to turn blue.

“Foreign girl,” Eun-Mi’s grandmother whispered.

Haenyeo turned.

The old woman stood and beckoned her to follow. “Come with me. I have something I want to show you.”