Monday morning was one of those blue sky, , white snow days, when the sun is brilliant and the snow dazzling and you can hardly wait to get outside. Min called, asking if I wanted to go sledding with him. An hour later I found him waiting on his front steps, holding the ropes of an old runner sled and a snow tube. “I know the best hill. It’s a long walk, but we can make it.”

We walked three blocks to the end of 20th street. We dragged the sleds and then Min ran ahead, slid on every gleaming patch of sidewalk ice he could find. The street ended in a field of snow that was about eight inches deep, gradual uphill climb stubbles with high grass. Min pointed me in the right direction and told me to go first. “Jae Hyung always goes first so I can walk in his footsteps.”

“There are some footprints over there.” I pointed.

“Those are Jae Hyung’s from yesterday, when he mashed down the snow to make a good run for our sled. But he went the long way.”

At the end of the field we walked through a stand of windblown pine, then looked down over a long sweep hill. “Perfect!” I said. “It’s absolutely perfect!”

“Do you want the runner sled or the tube, noona?” Min asked, dancing around.

“How about if we switch back and forth?”

He plopped down in the tube. I gave him a push and listened to him screech and holler all the way down. When he stood up and signaled that he was clear of the path, I set the runner sled in the track. I felt like a little kid again, getting a running start, flying down the hill on my belly, the wind and snow in my face.

“Your eyes are really shiny,” Min told me six or seven runs later. “And there are snowflakes in your hair, noona.”

“Then we look alike,” I said, pulling my ski hat down on my ears and pulling down his too.

We rode the runner sled together several times, sitting toboggan style, racing each other up the hill after every run, panting and slipping and throwing snow. On one of those trips uphill the snow tube zipped past us.

“It’s Jae Hyung!” Min exclaimed happily.

My heart quickened. When the tube reached the bottom of the run, Jae turned to wave at us. Min sidled close to me, forming a snowball in his hand.

“Don’t let him up the hill, noona,” he whispered.

“Right,” I said, and scooped up some snow.

“Make as many as you can, Noona. We’ll need extra power.”

I packed three more snowballs. “You give the signal, Min,” I told him.

We watched Jae making his way up the hill toward us. He must have known what was coming but he pretended not to.

“Ready,” Min said. “Aim.” He lifted his arm. “Fire!”

We pelted Jae with snowballs and snow blobs, hastily making more as he dropped the snow tube and armed himself. He was a good shot, and Min and I had to duck and skip despite the advantage of being uphill.

“Fire! Fire!” Min kept shouting.

When Jae was about fifteen feet away, he got me with a snowball hard on the arm.

“Ouch!”

“Don’t give up, noona,” Min cried.

“I have not yet begun the fight!” I exclaimed, quoting somebody or other.

Jae laughed and leaned over to scoop up more snow. I reared back and threw. Bull’s-eye! It wasn’t really what I was aiming for, but I got him – right on the .

Jae straightened up slowly.

“Oops,” I said with a smile.

Min laughed hysterically.

Jae just looked at me, then started to walk slowly toward me, not saying a word, shaping a huge snowball in his hand.

“I think it may be time to retreat, Min” I said.

“Let’s go, Noona!” Min shouted.

We scrambled up the hill, tripping in the heavy snow, trying to pull the sled with us. I felt my feet go out from under me. Jae had ahold of my ankles.

“Min, help!”

Min ran over and tried to pull me uphill by the arms. I went down on my stomach in a mound of snow.

Jae flipped me over on my back – a little too gently for a guy bent on revenge – and began dragging me down the hill. I held on to Min and dragged him down as well. We laughed all the way.

At the bottom of the hill Jae dropped my ankles and stood over Min and me. “Now try to get up,” he said.

“Conference, Min” I squirmed around on my back so I could whisper to him. “We’ll have to fake him out,” I said, cupping my hands over my mouth. “Pretend to go for Jae’s ankle, and when he starts to react, jump up. Then I’ll get his other ankle.”

“Then we’ll smother him with snow.”

“Right.”

Min executed the plan perfectly, snatching at Jae’s ankle, then springing to his feet. I gripped the other ankle, hanging on like a mad dog, and pulled. Jae went down on his rump. Snow flew. We were like three people splashing in a pool, making waves, with fountains of snow shimmering down on us.

I laughed till my sides ached and lay back in the show exhausted, still laughing. The brilliant sunlight seemed as if it were dancing in my eyes. I listened to Jae’s deeper laugh as well as Min’s until the three of us finally quieted down. Staring up at the high blue sky, I was content to the tips of my toes.

A minute or two later Jae stood up and pulled Min and me up with him. “You’re nothing but trouble,” he said, “both of you.”

“There wasn’t any trouble till you came,” I replied.

We climbed the hill, retrieving our sleds on the way.

When we arrived at the top, Min wanted to ride double decker with Jae’s back. I gave them a push-off, then took the snow tube down by myself. We made the same run several times, and I experimented with shifting my weight to make the tube spin. When Min saw me whirling around, he wanted to try it.

Jae and I launched him, then Jae held the runner sled in position. “Do you want to go by yourself or with me?” he asked.

I hesitated, then told myself not to make a big deal out of nothing. All he’d asked was if I wanted to share the sled. “I’ll go with you.”

“Double decker?”

I nodded.

He lay down on the sled, and I lay down on top of him.

“You’re going to have to hold on tight, Dara,” he said. “The upper deck always gets the bumps and turns worse. Can you loop your feet around mine?”