Chapter 8
WishLong, sweeping of black flowed across the white expanse like dark rivers. Line by like they criss-crossed, twisted, swooped and spun. Some ended abruptly, others with a sweeping lift that brought them to a fading point as the brush lifted from the page. Character three hundred and fifty nine, it was. Do you know what it means?
Her dainty hand moved behind the gauzy curtain, slowly following, copying his instruction. The quiet tinkling of jewels in her hair wafted past his ears. It was mostly silent this deep behind the castle walls, although servants shuffled to and fro down the many halls that surrounded the chambers. They moved on quiet socked feet.
A meek voice answered his query and he praised her. Very good, your majesty.
Their lesson was interrupted by a messenger. Four attendants swept in, each taking hold of one corner of the princess’s litter, and together they whisked her away. He was packing up his scrolls and ink pots when the dream faded to black.
~~~
Seunghyun was stirring a spoonful of sugar into his coffee cup the next morning when he noticed the oft-ignored moon phase symbols on his wall calendar. Taking a pen from atop the fridge, he circled February 6th, the next full moon. Just so we’re clear, he thought.
Jiyong was lounging above his desk, scanning pages as they flipped past in the twentieth or so volume of a ragged encyclopedia set from the 80’s.
“Finished with Britannica already?” Seunghyun joked.
But the genie only shrugged. “There were a lot of drawings—er, ‘photographs.’ Apparently the technology was invented nearly 200 years ago but this is the first I’ve seen of it.”
“Yeah, photography didn’t really spread in Korea until the late—“ Seunghyun paused mid sip. “You mean you actually made it through all those volumes last night?!”
Placing the finished book in line with the others on its shelf, Jiyong drew out the next one. “Almost. But I didn’t get to them until I finished all that over there.” He waved a pale hand in the direction of a short bookcase jammed full of Seunghyun’s old textbooks from his days of studying for his Master’s degree, among other books.
“How did… Can you…” Why am I still letting myself be surprised here?
“It was all horribly dense,” Jiyong complained. “But it was for the best. I cannot believe how much I missed in one measly century. I’m stuck in this stupid vase for nine or so cycles and you people tear the country in two? The Americans and Russians nearly blew up the whole world? Ridiculous.”
They arrived at the museum an hour or so later, wrapped up against the cold biting wind in gloves and hats and scarves. Seunghyun fetched the urn, wrapped in a blanket, from the backseat, while Jiyong made a show of creating realistic footprints in the snow.
“Would you like to know how I do it?” Jiyong asked, dashing up the steps.
“No,” Seunghyun answered bluntly, and swiped his ID through the lock with the urn awkwardly balanced on his knee. “Just stay behind me and let me do the talking.” Somehow he doubted his instructions would mean much.
They reached the third floor without incident: the museum had yet to open for the day and most of the staff wouldn’t be in for another hour. But there was rarely a day that Dr. Yang didn’t arrive at dawn to get a head start on his research, and Seunghyun wanted to catch him early.
He unlocked the door into his own cramped and messy office first, depositing his coat and other wrappings across the back of his desk chair.
Jiyong waited for the door to close before poofing out of his outwear, into a blue suit that Seunghyun had suggested out of a clothing catalogue that morning.
“It’s inconspicuous,” he had said.
“It’s boring,” had been Jiyong’s response, but when Seunghyun threatened to leave him and the urn behind, he complied.
The genie patted and smoothed his golden hair in a mirror covered in some clichéd motivational text on the wall. “What exactly do you plan on saying to this fellow today?”
“The truth,” Seunghyun answered, shuffling a mess of papers on his desk. “What I know for what he knows. I want to see him get a look at you and hear what he has to say about this ‘assignment’ now.”
Jiyong’s reflection looked at Seunghyun and scoffed while the genie in the room continued to adjust his tie. “And if what he has to say includes a swift knife through your gut?”
“I expect that wont be the case. You don’t know the guy.”
“It seems to me that neither do you.”
Seunghyun slammed shut a desk drawer and beckoned for Jiyong to follow into the hall. The door to Dr. Yang’s office was shut, the first sign something was odd, and when Seunghyun tried the knob it was locked. He knocked and waited for an answer, but to no avail.
“He is probably climbing through your window as we speak, tearing through your house in a wicked fervor.” Jiyong almost sounded excited at the prospect.
“He’s just not here yet is all,” Seunghyun said, but the assurance did little for either of them. “Let’s check in the—“
“Seunghyun?” Chairwoman Park’s voice called down the hall from the stairwell. “You’re here awful early.” She saw whose door he and his companion stood before, and cocked her head. “Did you forget Dr. Yang left on vacation today?”
Seunghyun exchanged a shocked look with Jiyong, who looked smug and unimpressed in return. “He never said anything to me about a vacation!”
“Oh yes, he must have requested off months ago. Suppose he wanted to escape the winter weather for a bit.” She took off her fur lined coat and rested it across her arm.
“Well where is he?!”
“Hawaii. No, wait, was it New Zealand? To be completely honest now that I think about it, I’m not sure he ever said…” Ms. Park had been eyeing Jiyong throughout her conversation with Seunghyun. “But who is this? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Oh, I assure you miss, the pleasure is all mine.” Jiyong bowed low, that same intoxicating smile plastered across his face that had charmed Minji’s mother the day before.
“This is Jiyong, he’s visiting from out of town,” Seunghyun interjected quickly. “Jiyong, this is Ms. Park.”
“Call me Bom, dear. Even if Seunghyun never does.”
“Ms. Park,” he continued undeterred. “If you know of any way I can get in touch with Dr. Yang…”
“I’m afraid not. He asked me to take all his calls here, said he most definitely did not wish to be disturbed for the next couple weeks.”
Seunghyun spent most of the morning in his office, calling Dr. Yang’s cell phone, home phone, even his wife’s phone, but got only instructions to leave a message. While contemplating how much it would take to bribe the janitor to break into Dr. Yang’s office for him, on the off chance he might find some clue to where the curator had disappeared to, he heard Jiyong and Bom’s raucous laughter down the hall in her office. Great, all my friends like my genie more than they like me, he thought bitterly as he searched the web for instructions on filing a missing person’s report.
When Ms. Park offered to buy lunch around noon, Seunghyun took the opportunity to duck out, insisting he and Jiyong already had plans before the genie could argue him.
“An awfully short workday you have here in the 21st century,” Jiyong mocked as Seunghyun led the way out to his car.
“Shut up, Jiyong.” Seunghyun rubbed his temples after climbing behind the steering wheel. He felt as though he’d suffered through one long headache since the previous day. If things continued down this track, perhaps he could look forward to its continuance for the next two weeks.
They drove across town to Dr. Yang’s house, but found it locked up tight. The neighbors weren’t home, or wouldn’t answer, and there were no clues in the accumulating snow-covered outside of the property. It was coming down harder by the minute, and Seunghyun had never been the best driver in extreme weather conditions as it was. Frustrated and at a loss, he drove them home.
Jiyong craned his neck to gaze up at the monolithic glass-lined buildings of Seoul’s modern skyline. For once, he was silent, awed by the atmosphere-piercing architecture. Seunghyun was struck by how comfortable his company could be when they weren’t arguing over something.
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Phenomenal…” Jiyong whispered, eyes glued to their surroundings.
Back at the apartment, Seunghyun threw off his snow-peppered outerwear and took his laptop from his bag. “I’m booking us a flight to Malaysia,” he announced, headed for the study.
Jiyong poofed in soon after. “Malaysia? What about Hawaii, and New Zealand?” He twirled a downward finger above the small globe paperweight on Seunghyun’s desk, causing it to spin along.
“Dr. Yang has a timeshare there. And I think his son lives in Kuala Lumpur. Though it may be Singapore now…” He stared at the travel booking site on the screen and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what else to do at this point…”
A chill pulsed down his spine as the air on his right side seemed to cool suddenly. He felt goosebumps prickling on his arm. Jiyong and his frigid aura hovered against him, and his ghostly lips would be touching Seunghyun’s ear if it were possible to touch any of him to begin with.
“I know what to do,” he teased. “Just say the word.”
Seunghyun flung his arm about wildly to disperse the coldness, and sent Jiyong floating backwards. “I told you I don’t need wishes; I can do this myself.”
The flash of anger in Jiyong’s eyes only lasted a moment before his calm, disinterested demeanor returned. “Suit yourself. But you’re wasting your time. He isn’t there.”
Seunghyun paused his typing. “What did you say?”
“I said he isn’t there.” A self-satisfied smile stretched across his face. “I’ve already located him. But I can’t tell you where or take you to him without your wishing for it. Furthermore, you may want to turn on your television: my senses tell me there’s something in the daily news report that may interest you.”
Seunghyun nearly leapt from his chair to dart into the living room, fearing a fiery plane crash or the murder of his mentor ticking across the screen.
“…And back to that record snowfall we’ve been seeing throughout the night and all day today: a representative for Incheon International Airport has confirmed that it will be joining a growing list of airports in area grounding all flights until further notice due to the heavy snow. They list poor visibility and unclear runways as some of the reasons for the decision—”
Jiyong clicked his tongue and sighed on Seunghyun’s behalf. “So much for your plan, my liege. But back to mine—”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“We can be there in an instant if you only just order it done.”
If there was anything in the world Seunghyun hated more than being rushed, it was being cornered. And now it seemed he was both. Jiyong had been demonstrating undeniable magic power since he had arrived the day before, but the idea of employing it himself, of having it used on him…
“I need to think about this… We’ll…” He took a deep breath and began again. “Tomorrow. Let’s wait until tomorrow, give him time to answer my calls.”
“Splendid idea!” Jiyong exclaimed, and extended his arms with a fluttering of his many folds of silk. “We’ll wait a day. Better yet, make it two days. In fact, let’s just wait the whole two weeks!”
“Alright! Calm down.” Seunghyun looked around his living room, wondering if he would ever see it again should something go wrong along the way. “If you can tell me where Dr. Yang is, I’ll use my first wish to take us there. Promise.”
The joy on Jiyong’s face was unmistakable. For a moment, Seunghyun even entertained the idea that he looked rather cute, back-flipping through the air like a delighted seal in water. The genie stabbed a finger in the direction of the TV, and the channel changed, to the hazy image of Seunghyun’s boss relaxing in a beach chair in the warm summer sun, sipping a drink with a small pink umbrella in the glass.
“Sydney, Australia!” Jiyong exclaimed. “Have you ever been?”
“I haven’t.” He studied Jiyong’s excited gestures. He seemed to almost vibrate with anticipation. “Have you?”
“Never. Let’s go!”
Something was infectious about the genie’s eagerness, and Seunghyun found himself smiling too. For a moment, he forgot his inhibitions in favor of a rare moment of spontaneity. “Alright then. Jiyong: I wish for you to take us to Sydney.”
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