Eun-Mi was on a freedom high. Even the muggy summer air smelled sweet and fresh through the filter of her joy. She tossed her glossy, black pony tail from side to side as she sang along with the music blaring from the pair of head-phones tucked into her ears and shuffled down the wide city sidewalk that led from the bus stop to her family’s condo in Seoul’s Seocho district. 

She’d been let out of prison – the kind of prison where they tied you to a chair and tortured you with sleep deprivation. At her summer-school hogwon, Teacher Chung had spent over an hour decorating the whiteboard with algebra functions and plotting fat round dots with a black, dry-erase marker that made an annoying squeaking sound each time he used it.

In other words, Eun-Mi hadn’t gotten any sleep. To make matters even worse, a window had been left open, and the lazy rise and fall of the cicadas humming from where they clung to the tree branches outside had called to her eyelids, coaxing them to close. And each time she began to surrender – began a beautiful daydream about a movie date in a dark theater with Park Min-Jae where she slipped her hand into a tub of buttery popcorn only to find her slick fingers entangled in his – Teacher Chung had brought the eraser down on the whiteboard with a loud whack, and Eun-Mi had been, cruely, jolted back into her seat.

But tutoring was all over for the day. She was free. Just as all sixteen year olds should be during, what was supposed to be, summer break.

 Eun-Mi quickened her pace and grooved down the sidewalk, her hips sashaying to the music only she could hear. The handle of a plastic shopping bag twisted around one of her wrists.  The bag slammed against the side of her long, pink t-shirt leaving a growing moisture mark as the bag’s contents, her sweet reward from a corner convenience store, softened in the summer heat. 

She saw Hyun-Woo first. He was loading a guitar case into the back of a black delivery van that had been parked near the side entrance of their high-rise apartment building. His well-developed pectorals flexed beneath the thin fabric of his clingy, white t-shirt. When he lifted the hem to his handsome face to wipe away a layer of sweat from his forehead and exposed the chocolate-bar shape of his lean abdominals, Eun-Mi heard a gasp. Across the narrow side-street, a pair of stroller-pushing housewives whispered breathlessly to each other as they ogled and fanned their faces.

Eun-Mi giggled.

Hawk, short and sadly bony compared to the older Hyun-Woo, was also nearby. He paced along the curb, glancing every few seconds at his watch.

Eun-Mi skipped closer.

“Hey, Hyun-Woo oppa,” she chirped. She ran her fingers over the neon-green Belle Fleur logo stuck to the vehicle’s side. “What’s the van for?”

“My boss let me borrow it,” Hyun-Woo replied.  He slid a long keyboard case in with the rest of the equipment, then closed the back of the van. “We have a gig tonight at the Ruby Rabbit Club in Hongdae.”

“Really?” Eun-Mi bounced with excitement. Hongdae, a neighborhood in Seoul well known for its street art and live music, was one of her favorite spots. “Park Min-Jae is going, right? Can I come? Please?  I can help you guys carry and set up the equipment!”

“Most definitely not.” Hawk stepped forward to join them. He glanced at his watch again, then craned his neck to look down the street. “Aren’t you supposed to be in cram school?”

“I’m out for the day,” she grumbled, annoyed with him for reminding her that she had to go back to the hogwan for English tutoring the next morning. “But … it’s pointless anyway because I’ve decided not to go to college. I’m going to join an all-girl idol group and become a famous singer and fashionista.”

“Brilliant idea,” Hawk rolled his eyes. “I bet your parents will love that. Why be a doctor when you can be South Korea’s next teen pop star? I’m sure the entertainment companies will line right up to sign a genius like you.” 

Eun-Mi let her swagger build as she marched towards to the older boy and glared murderously up into his face.  “Ya! Yang Shin-Hyuk!” she growled, waggling a finger under his nose.  “You don’t know me!”

Hawk gaped back at her in mock mortification, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“So SHUT-UP boy!” she finished with a satisfied fling of her bangs.

“You know, you’ll never find a boyfriend with that mouth.” Hawk crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You should treat your oppa with more respect.”

Eun-Mi ignored him. Reaching into her grocery bag, she pulled out an ice-cream bar and, turning with a flourish, presented it to Hyun-Woo along with an adoring smile.

“You see Hawk?” Hyun-Woo gloated, his deep voice rumbling with pleasure.  He leaned his tall frame against the front of the van and sank his teeth into the frozen chocolate.  “This is why you have to be nice to the kids.”

Eun-Mi hopped up onto the hood beside him.  Pulling up her legs, she crossed her ankles and reached down to scratch at the mosquito bite welting up on her calf just below the hem of her leggings.  With the other hand, she lifted her own ice-cream snack to and ripped open the plastic packaging with her teeth.

“Aren’t you almost seventeen?” Hawk shook his head. “When are you going to start acting like a real girl?”

Eun-Mi a glob of strawberry off her upper lip. “When you stop acting like one.”

Hyun-Woo reached over to accept her high-five.

“Betrayed for an ice cream,” Hawk sighed.

“Yep,” Hyun-Woo agreed.

Hawk glanced at his watch again, then stepped out into the street to get a better view of oncoming traffic.

“What’s up with him?” Eun-Mi asked Hyun-Woo. “Is he waiting for someone?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“About Seung-Bae. He and Hawk went to Sokcho yesterday with Min-Jae and his father. They were deep-sea fishing, and then this freak storm came, and then Seung-Bae was knocked off the boat by this humongous wave. Everyone thought he’d drowned.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, it was crazy. They had rescue teams out looking for him and everything. I don’t know what happened, but he called us this morning. He said he was all right and was taking a bus back. We expected him to be home several hours ago.”

“Oh my God …”

“Yup.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Yup. And you know how Hawk is. He’s been a basket case. He cried, literally, all night and kept saying that it was his fault because Seung-Bae had saved him from falling overboard first, but then another huge wave came … and bam!”

“Oh my God … that’s insane!”

“Yup.”

“Is Min-Jae oppa alright?”

 “It always ends up being about Min-Jae,” Hawk settled against the hood of the van on Hyun-Woo’s other side. “Don’t encourage her, hyeong.”

 Hyun-Woo didn’t respond and, instead, pushed away from the van and straightened.  His eyes widened and focused on something in the distance.  Eun-Mi turned to look.

A taxi had pulled up alongside their apartment building.  Its curbside door opened, and a worn and disheveled Seung-Bae climbed out of the back seat followed by a smaller figure in a baggy, white hoodie.  As they all watched, the hooded figure bent down and laid a palm against the sidewalk, pressing then poking it with one finger.  Seung-Bae grabbed the figure’s wrist and dusted off the attached hand as if he were scolding a child for getting dirty. 

Then the figure looked up, its head following the reflective glass wall of the high-rise apartment building. The figure staggered backwards, and the hood hiding its face fell away revealing a mass of wavy red hair and a very feminine profile.

            “Eh? Who is that girl? Is she foreign?” Eun-Mi pointed her ice-cream bar in the pair’s general direction. “Seung-Bae has a foreign girlfriend? You guys didn’t tell me that!”

            But Hawk and Hyun-Woo didn’t answer. They stared at Seung-Bae and the girl in silent astonishment.

“Pffshh,” Eun-Mi mumbled. “No one ever tells me anything …”

.  .  .  .  .  .

They sat, packed elbow to elbow on the squeaky beige leather of Seung-Bae’s living-room couch.  Min-Jae had arrived shortly after the taxi pulled away, and Eun-Mi, despite the distraction of the red-headed spectacle, hadn’t forgotten to wedge herself in beside him.  From the corner of her eye, she could just see his hair where it curled into a question mark over his earlobe, and he smelled really good, like peppermint toothpaste and kimchi pancakes. She blew her bangs out of her eyes and slyly leaned in closer, tilting her head towards his shoulder.

Seung-Bae stood on the other side of the coffee table, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets. The girl stood behind him. She’d pulled her hair down over her face, and she peeked out at them, like a shy little kid, from behind the long, curly strands.

Hawk was the first to speak. “She’s tracking dirt all over the floor,” he pointed out, perplexed.

Eun-Mi nodded. Hawk wasn’t wrong. The girl still wore her bright-yellow canvas slip-ons, and a crusty layer of sand clung to the edges of the rubber soles. Everyone else had left their shoes in the foyer and now wore house slippers, which even little kids knew was respectful etiquette when entering someone’s home. 

Seung-Bae knelt down and slipped the yellow shoes off the girl’s feet, then carried them across the room and placed them at the end of the long row of sneakers pushed up against a wall near the front door.

Eun-Mi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“What, is she a baby?” Hawk sputtered. “She can’t take off her own shoes?”

“She’s not from around here,” Seung-Bae replied. “She didn’t know.”

“You think?” Eun-Mi snorted.  “Who is she?”

The three boys on the couch suddenly turned to stare at her, as if just realizing she was there. Eun-Mi smiled nervously.

“Go home Eun-Mi,” Hawk ordered.

She scowled back at him. Hawk was the worst, always bossing her around and teasing her like she was a dumb kid. He definitely deserved some serious payback, and Eun-Mi was nothing if not opportunistic. She put on a grand show of stomping off towards the exit, but, when she made it to the foyer, she opened and closed the door without leaving.  With a sneaky titter, she pressed her back to the wall and stealthily leaned in towards the room beyond.

When Seung-Bae finished his story, the boys on the couch eyed each other with dubious expressions.

But Eun-Mi covered to keep from crying out and blinked in wide-eyed astonishment. She had lived next door to Seung-Bae for as long as she could remember and had known him long before his mother’s death. He had always been quiet and predictably well behaved. Her parents had even dubbed him “a good boy,” and when she, inevitably, got into trouble, they nagged her to be more like him.   In her entire life, she had never known Seung-Bae to make up a story, but what he had just told his friends was impossible, crazy even.

On the couch, Hawk nudged Hyun-Woo.  Being the eldest, Hyun-Woo had naturally become the unofficial leader of the four friends. His leadership status had also become solidified by the fact that he was the tallest by half an inch, the most experienced in the area of female relations and, to date, bizarrely undefeated in Rock-Paper-Scissors.

“So,” Hyun-Woo cleared this throat and began skeptically.  “You’re saying she’s actually half-woman and half-fish? Like … a mermaid?”

“A mermaid?” Hawk and Min-Jae gasped in unison.

A mermaid? Eun-Mi’s heart rate quickened.

Seung-Bae paused for a moment, then nodded.  “I guess … that must be what she is. She transformed on the beach – she says it’s because she bonded to me.  I bought her those cloths.” Sheepishly, he rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand.  “She wasn’t wearing anything so I had to … “

Min-Jae’s jaw dropped.  “She was ?”

“That can’t be it.” Hawk shook his head. “You said you hit your head, right? Think about it. It doesn’t make any sense. You must have been seeing things. Who is she? What does she want?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Seung-Bae admitted.  “But she said she needed my help.”

Hawk pulled off his cap and pushed his fingers through his disheveled hair. He looked up at Hyun-Woo.  “Do you think she’s from an American tourist family?  Omo! She might be lost! Or maybe …” his jaw slackened and his voice fell to an apprehensive whisper, “maybe she’s an escaped mental patient.”

The red-headed girl slid one hand under the curtain of her curls and slipped something into . Eun-Mi wasn’t certain, but the girl looked terrified, or maybe a little crazy.

 Seung-Bae looked offended.  “You don’t believe me?  I told you, I SAW her.  I mean, I saw IT ... I saw her tail!” he crossed his arms resolutely over his chest.  “I know what I saw.”

Hyun-Woo rose from the couch and approached the girl.  Peering into her face, he asked in his best attempt at English, “What is your name? Where are you from?”

The girl took an uncertain step backwards, and Eun-Mi caught a quick reflection of light near the girl’s hand. It came from a chain that dangled against her wrist. She was gripping its length near where the chain disappeared between her lips, as if she held whatever was attached on her tongue. The girl’s eyes darted up towards Seung-Bae. Her lips pressed together tightly.

 “She doesn’t speak English?” Hyun-Woo asked.

“She understands Korean,” Seung-Bae explained.  “But she won’t talk to you.  She says there’s something … special … about her voice. It’s dangerous or something.” 

Hyun-Woo straightened and looked at the girl like she was from another planet.

“But she talked to you, right?” Hawk asked. “Then what’s her name?”

“I … “ Seung-Bae blinked.  “I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask her what her name was?” Hawk asked.

“Hyeong,” Min-Jae pointed out, nudging Hawk with his elbow, “she was .”

Eun-Mi sent a volley of eye daggers in his direction.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Hawk reasoned.  “Someone’s probably looking for her.”

“It’s not like that,” Seung-Bae shook his head.  “She’s here for a reason,” he mumbled and bowed his head towards the floor.

“What reason?” Hyun-Woo asked.

Seung-Bae kept his gaze on the hardwood and shrugged.

“Do you have any concept of how much trouble we’ll get into for keeping her here if her family is searching for her?” Hawk’s face had begun to turn red with frustration. 

“She can come home with me,” Min-Jae offered. He grinned at the girl and gave her a flirtatious wink.  From her hiding spot, Eun-Mi pretended to beat him over the head.

“Did someone give you permission to talk?” Hawk snapped. He reached over and smacked the back of Min-Jae’s curly black head.

Eun-Mi nodded smugly to herself, impressed with the advancement of her power of suggestion.

“What we need is information,” Hyun-Woo said.  “We’re trying to make decisions based on our own assumptions.”  He cleared his throat then leaned forward again to make eye contact with the girl. 

“Where are you from?” he enunciated slowly.

The red-headed girl pushed the pendant out of and let it tumble to her chest. She looked puzzled for a moment, then finally lifted her hand and made an away motion.

“She’s a foreigner!” Min-Jae translated.

Hawk let out an incredulous puff of air and turned to glare at him.  “She’s a foreigner,” he repeated sarcastically.  “She’s a foreigner?  How did you even pass your college entrance exams? Have you been hitting your own head with those drumsticks?  It makes a nice hollow sound when you do, doesn’t it?”

“I bet she’s from Australia,” Min-Jae added, unfazed. 

“I don’t know,” Hyun-Woo cocked his head and examined her.  He his breath in between his teeth before adding, “She looks European to me.”

“No way hyeong, she’s definitely American,” Hawk threw in.

“Idiots,” Eun-Mi whispered to herself.  “How can you even tell?  They all look the same….”

“How old are you?” asked Hyun-Woo.

The girl began to turn in slow circles, searching.

“What is it?” Min-Jae asked. “Is she looking for something?”

“Hold on, I think I know.” Seung-Bae moved into the kitchen and brought out a canister of white rice grains. He pulled off the lid and set it onto the coffee table.

The girl dropped to her knees and scooped out a small handful. Then she pointed to Hyun-Woo with a questioning look. 

“How old are you?” he repeated. 

She shook her head and pointed to him again.

“What? You mean me? I’m twenty-three.”

The girl picked a single grain from her palm and laid it onto the table. Then she repeated the act until twenty-three grains of rice lay in a neat row in front of her.

The rest of the group gathered around and counted. Eun-Mi leaned out further around the wall’s corner, rising onto her toes to get a better view.

The girl turned to Seung-Bae and pointed to his chest.

“I am twenty-one,” he answered softly. 

She made another neat row.

“Ok,” Hawk said. “We get it. You can count. But how old are you?”

“Ya!” Seung-Bae reached over the table and shoved Hawk’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude.”

The girl stood and pointed to herself. Then she lifted the canister and gently emptied it onto the table. The tiny pieces tumbled then stilled, forming a large white mound on the center of the mahogany surface.  The boys looked at each other in confusion.

“What does that mean?” Min-Jae asked.

The girl spread the pile outward with her palm, and then pointed again to herself. 

“She’s saying …” Seung-Bae answered. His voice broke with shock. “That all of this … is how old she is.”

The room fell silent.

 “I knew it.” Hawk threw his hands into the air and backed away from the table. “She’s nuts!”

“Yang Shin-Hyuk!” Seung-Bae’s face reddened.

“No. This isn’t right Seung-Bae.” Hawk pointed towards the girl. “SHE isn’t right.”

“That’s enough,” Hyun-Woo announced with finality.  “We don’t have time to sort this out now.  We need to go, or we’ll be late.” He laid a hand on Seung-Bae shoulder.  “Go ask Eun-Mi if your friend can stay over at her place for a few hours.  We’ll talk about it later tonight.”

With a tiny squeak, Eun-Mi whirled around then yanked open the front door and raced down the hall to the neighboring apartment.

.  .  .  .  .  .

It was nearing seven o’clock. Seung-Bae was hesitant to leave her, but his friends were waiting outside in the van, and the show was due to begin at eight – they were already running late. He led the girl down the hallway of the building’s twenty-eighth floor until they stood in front of a dark walnut door that was an exact replica of the one they’d just come from. There he paused.

She was frantic, her eyes wide saucers of blue peeping out from the strands she kept tugging down over her face. Her right hand was firmly attached to his left wrist.

“What you did before, with the rice. Is that true? But … how could it be? You look about the same age as me.” But she didn’t answer, and he hadn’t expected her to. From the moment they’d left the beach in Sokcho, she hadn’t spoken a single word.

Seung-Bae let out a deep sigh.

He had so many questions. Things that didn’t even occur to him to ask before now overflowed in his imagination, and he was so confused. Maybe it was the change in setting, but he now realized how surreal the time at the beach had been, like a hazy daydream. Being back in Seoul, showing her to his friends and seeing the disbelief on their faces made him doubt his own memory. He needed to talk to her, needed her to explain things. He needed to hear the sound of her voice. Then, maybe, everything would make sense.

She pulled at him, trying to force him back toward his apartment.

Seung-Bae shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I have to go. I promised them.  Don’t worry.  I won’t be gone for long.”

The girl snatched up her pendant and pressed it between her lips.

Seung-Bae reached up and pressed the doorbell button.

“Eun-Mi’s a good kid.  A little crazy, but she has a good heart.  Don’t worry.”  He patted her hand.  “I promise I’ll come get you as soon as we’re finished, alright?”

The front door opened outwards, revealing the diminutive figure of a sharp-eyed old woman. Her thinning grey hair was curled in a tight cap around her skull, and a pair of glasses balanced precariously on the tip of her nose.  From behind her, the scent of red-pepper sauce and garlic came flooding into the hallway. She wiped her hands on her apron as she leaned back and squinted to look up at the face towering above her. “Oh, Seung-Bae-ah …”

“Good evening, halmeoni.” Seung-Bae dipped his head and bowed slightly.  “Is Eun-Mi here?”

“Oh, Seung-Bae oppa, is that you?” Eun-Mi shuffled up behind her grandmother and blinked at him, all innocuous innocence.

“You can drop the act,” Seung-Bae laughed. “I saw you the whole time. Your stealth skills need work.”

Rosy patches of red blossomed on Eun-Mi’s cheeks.

“Can she stay with you for a few hours? I’ll owe you.”

“Of course!” The teenager pushed passed her grandmother and snatched the girl’s wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll take GOOD care of her.”  With that, she dragged the startled red head inside where they disappeared around a corner.

Seung-Bae hesitated. An ominous uncertainty settled over him.

“She’s a foreigner,” Eun-Mi’s grandmother mumbled.  “I don’t speak any English. I wonder if she can eat what I made for dinner.” The old woman rubbed at the back of her neck and shook her head.

“Thank you, halmeoni,” Seung-Bae said.  “She’s a friend … visiting from America. I hope it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Trouble?  Oh no … of course not.”

But just before the door clicked closed, Seung-Bae heard a distinct grumble followed by a long, put-upon sigh, “Aigoo … a foreigner. What a bother.”