Homecoming
"Is the problem you? Or is it the animals?"
Back at the lodging, once I'd changed and walked Noona through what had happened, she looked utterly dumbfounded — and then, despite herself, let a small smile slip.
"Well. I'm ruling myself out, for starters."
Obviously, I pled innocent. I'd only gone sightseeing. That was all. The fact that my casual little tour had been transformed into an actual tourist attraction wasn't something I'd been aiming for, which meant it wasn't my fault.
Having grandly proven my innocence, I gathered the bags — already packed — and set out in earnest to return to Korea. This time the guide made no attempt to stop me. He saw us off the island, back to Ecuador, and through every last procedure required to go home.
Of course, that same guide was meant to stay with us until our feet touched Korean soil. The Ecuadorian side had agreed to take responsibility for everything, not only the journey from Korea to the Galápagos but the return trip as well. Thanks to that, we boarded the flight home without a single problem or hitch.
"Nnnnngh..."
Even so, aboard the very flight that ought to have put our minds at ease, we couldn't hide our discomfort. After two flights, So-eun had already learned that airplanes made her ears hurt, and she was looking up at us with damp, glistening eyes.
I scrambled for a solution, and luckily one of the flight attendants came to our aid. She was a foreigner, so we had to speak through the guide, but we managed a perfectly good conversation all the same.
"When babies cry on a flight, it helps to pinch their nose or have them blow it. Adults equalize the pressure difference almost by instinct, but with babies you have to do it for them."
"Oh..."
Armed with the attendant's method, we pinched So-eun's nose the moment the plane had climbed high enough for her face to scrunch.
"Hmph!"
"Hnngh!"
True to the girl who always did as she was told, So-eun followed our lead. In that instant a strangely relieved look crossed her face, and she blinked up at us with bright, sparkling eyes.
"It actually works?"
Noona and I, relieved she hadn't cried, fired off a double thumbs-up at the attendant watching us with a pleased smile nearby. So-eun, who had been watching the whole thing, stretched out both hands and raised her thumbs as well. Struck by a grand total of six thumbs-ups, the attendant clutched her nose, laughed, and slipped away into the crew area.
We let out a light laugh at the sight, then had to play with a beaming So-eun for a little while — whether because nothing hurt anymore, or simply because she was in such high spirits. On the way out of Korea she had cried herself exhausted and dropped off almost at once, but this time was different.
Still, once the animals joined in and we played with her a bit, So-eun soon began to nod.
"She's our daughter, but don't you think she's almost too cute?"
Buried between the rabbits and the penguin, ringed by the other animals as if they were standing guard over her, So-eun looked unbearably adorable — and with her head bobbing as she dozed, she was cuter still. When I lifted her out from among them and settled her in my arms, sleep began to drift over me. The baby's warm body heat and the faint, sweet scent of her skin rose up and pulled me under all on their own.
Spotting us nodding off one by one, the attendant had the good sense to dim the lights, and before long every last one of us had sunk into sleep.
"We're finally in Korea!"
"Let's go home!"
"Cheep!"
After a layover and nearly thirty hours in the air, we shouted the moment our feet hit the airport floor. Coming home at the end of a trip was deeply bittersweet, but the endless flight shoved that regret aside and left room for nothing but the joy of being back.
The joy didn't last.
"Let's go baaack!"
"Might I fly on ahead, if you please?"
"It's huge! Run!"
"A body so white, so big, so long and sleek — a figure born for flight! She's our ideal type!"
"Master. The geese over there are making a break for it, sir."
"Uweh... this place is weird-yang."
"Baby still looks sleepy-sha!"
The reason was simple enough. The moment their feet touched the airport floor, the animals started striking out on their own.
I snatched up Yubu first — the one most likely to cause a disaster on the order of a bird strike — and then grabbed Maru, who was coveting the wide runway. After that I corralled the geese, who had begun performing courtship displays at the airplane, and the raccoons trying to climb back aboard. Once every animal that needed watching was in hand, the scattering finally stopped.
"Hoo... Let's go home. And don't you even think about running off!"
Five leashes in each hand — ten in all — I led the animals out of the airport.
The mountain of souvenirs had nearly caused trouble at immigration, but we managed to get through without incident. The real problem was the crowd that had somehow found out we were coming: fans of me and the animals, swarming the exit and kicking up a brief commotion. Flashes and shutter clicks bursting from countless phones left me completely dazed.
"Kyaaaah! Lord Shinsoo! Look over heeeere!"
"It's the Princess!"
"Lord Yubu is turning his head!"
"Salute Staff Sergeant Cheongho!"
"That must be the famous Pe-eng. He looks so confused — adorable!"
"Classic penguin. Look at that waddle."
At the fervent welcome I offered an awkward smile and waved. That only made them cheer harder and snap more photos, and it was only after we had served as subjects alongside the animals for a good long while that we finally slipped free of them.
Even so, once we'd shaken the people trailing after us and reached the parking lot, I found my all-too-familiar car waiting in its spot. The so-called wedding car had been a one-day rental my friends arranged, already returned; this one, too, was a car those same friends had dropped off early that morning.
"All right — all aboard!"
I flung the rear doors and the trunk wide and called out, and the animals leapt up and piled in as if they'd done it a hundred times. Only two failed to board: Hanmu, whose enormous bulk kept him from climbing up, and Pe-eng, who didn't understand what was happening because it was his first time.
"This is what's called a car..."
I wondered whether I ought to explain automobiles properly, then decided a very simple explanation would do. The animals had built a kind of society among themselves; I figured they'd fill one another in. A thoroughly easygoing frame of mind.
"When I tell you to get in, you do what the others just did. Jump up yourself, or get a hand from someone like Cheongho. Got it?"
"Uuung, got it-jjeo!"
Pe-eng flapped his wings for a moment, then — looking as though he'd understood perfectly well — gave a hop and leapt. An SUV sits a fair way off the ground, but the little guy was clever enough to plant a foot on the side running board and spring up from there.
"Pe-eng!"
So-eun, nestled in her car seat with Noona's help, clapped in delight at Pe-eng bouncing up like that. I watched for a moment, then let out a small sigh and turned to Hanmu. Getting a body that size aboard was going to be another ordeal.
"Ho ho ho."
I regarded the tortoise's leisurely chuckle, then pulled the plank and the brace stowed in the trunk. There was no lifting a bulk like his; I would have to let him climb on his own. I fixed the plank to the lip of the trunk and set the brace on the ground so the board wouldn't slide.
"Up we go."
Hanmu tapped the plank a couple of times, then slowly set a foot on it. I got right behind him and heaved, grunting, and before long he was standing in the trunk. Nearly two hundred kilograms settled into the cargo space, and the car rocked.
"Hoo. That was rough."
I wiped away the sweat I'd worked up shoving so he wouldn't slip, then climbed into the driver's seat.
"Shall we head home, then?"
"Cheeeep!"
Whether she fully grasped the word home or not, So-eun flailed her hands, demanding we get moving. Once I saw Noona double-check So-eun's seat belt and her own, I pulled out and headed straight for the house.
Plenty of people had come out to see me, but it wasn't a busy hour, so we arrived without it taking long. Counting the flight, it had been nearly two weeks since I'd laid eyes on the place, and it felt strange and deeply welcome all at once.
"In you go."
I opened the front gate and the trunk, and the animals tumbled out in a flurry and were sucked into the house as if drawn by a current. Yubu moved first of all — the one who had left his subordinates behind and joined the trip alone. By the time the others were only just considering climbing down, he had already vanished, leaving nothing in the car but a single feather.
"Assemble!"
Yubu shot into the sky, mustered the magpies and crows, and began circling the grounds on patrol, as if checking whether anything had gone wrong in his territory while he was away.
I watched for a moment, hauled the luggage crammed into the car down onto the ground, and went inside with Noona and So-eun to steal a short afternoon nap. Everyone knows the sweetest sleep of all is the nap you take after a trip, before you've unpacked a single bag.
Between the long flight and the drive on top of it, I was out almost at once, and when I came to, the sun had set and the moon hung high.
"Uuung..."
I woke half in a daze, gently lowered So-eun — asleep on my stomach with soft little snuffles — and got to my feet. The moment I vacated the spot, the Tokkiz rushed in to claim it.
Reassured that So-eun wouldn't cry even if she woke, I went out to the living room. Noona was already up, the unpacking finished, watching television.
"Oh, you're up?"
"Yeah. When did you wake up?"
"Not long ago. Never mind that — wanna see this?"
I followed her gesture toward the screen, and what met my eyes was a little shocking.
"Wait — why is this on the news?"
"Don't ask me."
At Noona's shrug, my mouth refused to close. Being asked, back in the Galápagos, to turn the place into a tourist attraction had already been absurd enough. Coming home and watching it play out on the news made it more absurd still.