What I Can Do
One week later, Lee Jun returned to Cheongju Zoo, just as he had promised.
Beongae greeted him from atop a broad boulder as Lee Jun appeared with an armful of gifts from Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi, and Sapsaree. The leopard spotted him and sprang down from the rock, his long tail swaying lazily as he padded over. His gait looked easy. Comfortable.
"Hehe, I missed you!"
"I missed you too, Beongae."
Beongae was so delighted to see him that he wagged not only his long tail but his whole hindquarters. He came as close as the enclosure would allow and kept on wagging, then paddled the air with his front paws, making the most endearing sounds.
"Aong, aoong~!"
A pleading light filled the eyes that gazed at Lee Jun—the look of a creature who wanted something. What he wanted was simply to be closer. There was still a fair stretch of ground between Beongae inside the enclosure and Lee Jun standing outside it.
Who could miss a look like that?
Lee Jun called out.
"Beongae. Let's meet inside. Where you sleep. I'll come to you."
In truth, Lee Jun had considered going straight to the den from the start. He had come to the outdoor enclosure—Beongae's front yard, so to speak—only because he wanted to see how the leopard walked.
With that, Lee Jun started toward the indoor quarters. Beongae seemed to have understood. He watched Lee Jun recede, then vanished with a light, cheerful sway of his tail.
A moment later, the two of them faced each other through the bars, wearing the same expression.
Lee Jun leaned in and stroked Beongae's head as it bonked softly against the iron. Then he pushed the three gifts through the opening.
"Does it hurt?"
From the way Beongae had been walking, Lee Jun had already judged that it didn't. He asked anyway. He knew too well how perfectly wild animals could hide their own weakness.
"Yes! It doesn't hurt even a little. Hehehe."
Lee Jun examined the wound, then nodded.
"Good. Don't climb any trees yet. Next time I come, you can go up then."
Gratitude shone in Beongae's eyes, and the corners of his mouth lifted. Lee Jun spent a little while with him, then rose to leave, promising he would come again.
Beongae watched him go, his tail—resplendent with plum-blossom rosettes—waving with all its strength. He watched until Lee Jun's scent grew faint.
Only when the scent had faded did Beongae pick up the gifts in his mouth and amble out of the den. He went to the broad boulder that sat in the yard. It was a bitter cold that set the flesh shivering, but that was no trouble for Beongae. He sprang up onto the rock, gathered the three gifts against himself, and settled down over them.
Hehe. It smells like my friends. My friends...
Friends he had never even met. Beongae breathed in the scents of Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi, and Sapsaree that clung to the toys, and a contented smile spread across his face.
Meanwhile, walking the grounds with Nam Hoseong, Lee Jun let out a breath of genuine wonder.
"Wow... this place is really something."
A smile curved across Nam Hoseong's mouth.
"It is a wonderful place. Being up on a mountain, some of our visitors say the walk is hard—but for the kids, it's a truly good home."
He seemed to have taken Lee Jun's praise as a comment on the zoo's mountain setting, and even added a further explanation.
I only said it because the animals seem to like it here. Well—the location is excellent too, I suppose.
As they walked, the animals' voices reached Lee Jun now and then. They were, for the most part, decent enough remarks.
Though some of them scowl at Team Leader Nam, or say he's scary.
That couldn't be helped. To their eyes, Nam Hoseong was no different from a hunter. Nam Hoseong with a blowgun in his hands, loosing syringe darts. The ones who had been hit still carried the terror of the moment they were sighted down, and the pain of the dart striking home—so of course he was dreadful to them. Even those who had never been struck themselves had watched a friend take an arrow and go down. That was enough to make him frightening.
Lee Jun took in the animals' wary reactions as they toured the enclosures.
Cheongju Zoo held the title of Ex-situ Conservation Institution: a space to which endangered animals, too difficult to conserve in their native habitats, could be entrusted. Lee Jun took in every detail of the place, intending to see and learn all he could for the Animal Sanctuary he would one day build.
"Team Leader Nam, I heard this place doesn't just keep animals—you send them back into the wild as well?"
"Ah, yes. For the ones who can live in nature, I believe that's the right thing to do."
Nam Hoseong looked at the animals who were watching him so cautiously, and his eyes were full of affection. He went on.
"How stifled they must feel in there."
Lee Jun couldn't answer. Some of the animals did say they felt cramped—but others were playing happily in their own little homes. Even so, it was an obvious truth that living in a wide space was better than a narrow one. Lee Jun knew that perfectly well.
His hesitation came from the worry sitting in his mind. The cats. The worry that Jjaek and One-eye had set turning in him.
It's true they ought to live somewhere wide, together with their companions. But when I think of Hoesaegi and Gkamnyangi being kidnapped, my heart goes heavy all over again.
That was why Lee Jun had been losing sleep these days.
Nam Hoseong took the silence for agreement and pressed on.
"Even thinking that, there's nothing I can actually do about it. So all I can do is make sure they're a little less bored, even in there."
They happened to be passing the monkey house, where a structure as tangled as a jungle gym caught the eye.
"The monkeys must love that."
"Ah, we put a lot of work into it, and they did take to it. After we built that, the monkeys started moving around a lot more."
Something in his tone made it sound as if he had built it himself.
"You made it yourselves?"
"That? Yes. We made it."
He walked on, pointing out another enclosure.
"We built that one too."
"That's remarkable."
"Ah, well. If we had more to work with, I'd make things even nicer for them—but we're limited by the budget. Hahaha."
Nailing boards and cutting timber was hard work. Nam Hoseong only laughed, hearty and unbothered, as if it were nothing at all.
Nothing? The kids love that stuff so much.
What a good man, Lee Jun thought.
They could have taken an electric cart from Beongae's enclosure to the animal hospital. But Lee Jun had said he wanted to see the zoo, so he and Nam Hoseong were walking the long way, unhurried, toward the hospital.
"Winter is actually a good season for a zoo. Ah—I feel bad for the animals who don't handle the cold, though."
"They must feel cooped up staying in their dens, but at least it's quiet."
"Exactly. That's it. Our zoo doesn't see the visitor numbers of Seoul Zoo, but that doesn't mean we don't get the Monday blues."
Monday blues—that drained, heavy fatigue that settles in before a Monday morning. And the animals had it too?
Of course they did. There was a saying that on Mondays the entire zoo turned into a veterinary hospital, so many animals came up sick. Part of it was simple exhaustion from the weekend crowds. The real trouble, though, was the food. Visitors threw things into the enclosures; animals fought over them, or ate what they were never meant to eat, and paid for it afterward.
"I've heard that. Mondays are so busy it feels like your soul's leaving your body."
Lee Jun was repeating something Park I-chan had told him, and Nam Hoseong answered at full volume.
"That's right. Plenty of days we don't have a wit left."
Before they knew it, the two of them had arrived at the raptors.
"This is... the owl enclosure, isn't it?"
Lee Jun read the plaque.
Eurasian Eagle-Owl
"A Eurasian eagle-owl?"
"Yes. This one came in with a broken wing."
"Aigoo, the wing? So did it heal?"
Lee Jun asked Nam Hoseong—and felt a gaze settle on him. At the same time, he heard a voice.
A heavy, resonant voice. Lee Jun lowered his head toward the source of that gaze, and a pair of golden eyes was staring straight through him.
Meeting those fierce, commanding eyes, he felt a flicker of familiarity. Hoesaegi's eyes rose in his mind.
His eyes are exactly like Hoesaegi's.
What a beautiful gaze, he thought—and then, on the heels of it: No wonder he became the boss, with eyes like an owl's.
The Eurasian eagle-owl is the largest of the owl family. Grand enough to be called the Sovereign of the Night.
"He's... incredibly beautiful."
Whether the eagle-owl had understood him or not, he smiled.
"Hmph. So you know a thing or two about me."
Even his speech looked down from a throne, as befit a king. He addressed Lee Jun the way one might address a subordinate.
He's got the presence to match those words, doesn't he?
The thought slipped right out of his mouth.
"That presence is no joke. Ah—putting that aside, when did he get this close? Was he here from the moment we walked in?"
"Their feather tips are extremely soft, you see."
"And that has to do with him being here... how?"
Lee Jun blinked. Nam Hoseong looked at the owl as he answered.
"They barely make a sound when they fly. The structure of their feathers is completely different. That's how they hunt in secret."
"Ugh. That's horror-movie stuff."
"It would be. They snatch you without a sound. Looking into those eyes, who wouldn't freeze on the spot? And a creature like that... can't fly."
The answer to the question from a moment ago.
"Ah. So it couldn't be fixed."
"No. So this is home for him now."
A sigh mixed into the words. The eagle-owl left Nam Hoseong's sigh behind him, fluttered his wings, and walked slowly away, his head held high with unshakable pride.
"You're right—there's almost no sound at all."
"See?"
Nam Hoseong watched the owl go.
"That's why I think this one is truly remarkable. Not just him—all of them."
"Pardon?"
"Don't you think? Whether I pity him for not being able to fly or not, he lives his life in his own way. He eats with a will, and he walks that space on his own two legs, and that's how he spends his days. Without a word of lament."
Just as Nam Hoseong said, there was no trace of resentment or bitterness about the eagle-owl. The creature that had been studying Lee Jun picked his way forward on two feet, the bearing of a king intact.
"Of course, I may only feel that way because I don't actually know what's in his heart."
As they walked, Lee Jun spoke to the eagle-owl.
"Take care. I'll come again. Ah—you're handsome. You're magnificent!"
"Hmph! As you please."
Whether Lee Jun's words had pleased him, the eagle-owl smiled.
They walked a little farther, and this time an eagle appeared. But the enclosure was different from the owl's. It was a long, corridor-like space.
"This one's different from the last."
"Ah, that one is preparing for release. He came in with an injured wing as well, but it healed. I'm putting him through flight practice."
"I see."
So for some, this place became home. For others, it was only a place to rest along the way.
Lee Jun sank into thought.
Then is the animal hospital a resting place for Jjaek and One-eye? No. It doesn't feel the same. Once this one flies, he won't come back.
That was how Lee Jun saw it. Jjaek and One-eye would go to their companions for now—but someday, they would return. Because they were family.
Lee Jun asked,
"You must feel sad, letting them go."
"I do, in a way. But I'm happy, too. They're going back to nature. When I send them off, I tell them: if you get hurt, come back. I'll fix you up. I don't know if they understand a word I say, but... the words just come out."
Words carrying the hope that they would not be hurt, and the promise that if they were, he would treat them. Lee Jun always held that same heart toward animals, so he understood exactly how Nam Hoseong felt.
Nam Hoseong went on.
"I think that's as far as I can go for them."
Lee Jun looked at him quietly. Nam Hoseong was saying something that struck home, something that settled in the chest.
"I became a veterinarian because I loved animals. Because I wanted to treat the ones who were hurting. I've loved them since I was little. Wasn't it the same for you, Director Lee?"
"It was. If you look at photos from when I was a child, there are so many of me with animals. Holding them, or standing right beside them."
"Same for me. I must have been in fifth grade. I watched our dog, Goldie, die—and that's when I made up my mind. I was going to treat every sick animal there was."
He's like me, Lee Jun thought, as Nam Hoseong continued.
"But as I got older, I understood. I can't treat every animal in the world. So I decided I would do the best I could with what I could do. For me, that's looking after the animals at our zoo."
You cannot treat every animal in the world. You cannot look after them all. It was the truth. Lee Jun agreed.
"That's true."
"I see."
As Lee Jun answered, he felt the knot of worry he had been carrying begin to loosen.
That was when a phone rang, loud in the quiet.
Nam Hoseong's.
"Huh."
"What? Got it. I'm nearby—I'll be right there."
Nam Hoseong answered in a rush and broke into a run, shouting as he went.
"There's an owl nearby—they say its head's twisted around!"
Footsteps hammered the ground. Lee Jun followed on his heels, and before long they were standing over the owl in trouble.
"Whoa—this one's head really is twisted around. Bone injury? Nervous system? What's wrong here?"
"Th-that's what I'm saying. Why would it do this?"
The zookeeper answered in a fluster. And then a sound reached Lee Jun's ears.
"Ah, my fea— my feather!"
Muffled, the pronunciation blurred and imprecise. Lee Jun understood at once.
"Excuse me. Could I take a look?"
"Be careful. If those talons get you, that's it."
"Yes. If you could just hold the feet."
The two of them pulled on special gloves and took hold of the owl's feet. Lee Jun spoke to the bird.
"Hold on. I'll get it out."
Leaving the two men staring, Lee Jun reached in and pulled the feather lodged in the owl's beak. Then—whoosh—the head spun back to its proper place.
Nam Hoseong and the zookeeper let out hollow, helpless laughs.
"Aigoo, you little thing—why would you stick a feather in your beak?"
"His beak must have split. If we just file the split down a little, that should take care of it."
At Lee Jun's words, both men's eyes went round. How could anyone read a wild animal that well?
They had no way of knowing it was the combination of two things: the ability to understand what animals said, and the eye he had trained at Choi Woo-jin's side.
After Beongae, and now this. Nam Hoseong looked at Lee Jun with something like awe.
That look only shone brighter an hour later, during the clinical practicum.
And through the session that day, Lee Jun became—without ever realizing it—a well-known name at the zoo. His name began to be spoken not only across Korea, but at zoos all around the world.