Dandelion Orphanage
Dandelion Orphanage.
The letters on the sign had gone a little ragged. I'd made some money; maybe it was time to have them set right, clean and proper. The dandelion-shaped fence was worse—the cement had peeled clean off. Along the path, the snow had all been shoved aside. Grandpa was as hardworking as ever.
I walked on, leaving small footprints behind me, and a welcome figure came into view far ahead. Park Seungmu. Grandpa. He was so busy pushing snow with a wide scoop that he hadn't even noticed I'd come. I quietly took up a broom and edged in from the side.
"Hm?"
His face turned toward me, nose red with the cold.
"What's this? Jaehee, you rascal—if you came, you should've said so!"
He laughed, bright as anything, flung the scoop aside, and pulled me into his arms.
"Halbae. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
So cozy… Warm.
"You left my room just as it was?"
Three years ago I had walked out of this house, off to be trained at the Intermediate Training Institute. It was an orphanage, but to me it was no different from home. I should have stopped by once after graduation. Instead I had gone straight to the White Night team, and here I was, six months later.
"No reason to clear it out, is there."
From the kitchen came the sound of food being prepared.
"Where'd Seonghwan hyung and the kids all go?"
I stepped out of the room and looked around.
"Six months without a visit, and you've forgotten already?"
Grandpa set the refreshments on the table as he spoke.
"It's the day they go to Sunday Mass, isn't it."
Right—today was Sunday. Wow. I really have been living in a blur.
"I'm just saying. You shouldn't force religion on kids when they're little."
I sat and picked up a snack, and the old days came back. Seonghwan hyung had dragged me to church so often that I'd gone around looking thoroughly miserable. All those visits, and not a single verse had stayed with me. How did a person fail to remember even one? A laugh slipped out of me for no good reason.
"You think those children go for the faith? They go because he buys them hamburgers."
"Ah! He did buy us hamburgers."
All at once the taste of one rose in my mouth.
"Hamburger, then ice cream, and the walk home was honestly the best part."
Somewhere in there, Grandpa had started laughing too. Rough around the edges, and warm all the same.
"It'll be a while before the kids get back."
The hour hand on the clock pointed at two.
"You might've said something before you came."
"Surprise."
Grandpa laughed as if he didn't know what to do with me. The wrinkles seemed to have deepened since I had seen him last.
"So. Did you suffer a bit out there?"
"Halbae, I really almost died."
"So much happened. Truly."
I let out a long sigh.
"Hear the story and you'll be shocked."
His hearty laugh filled the orphanage. It was a good thing, having a place to return to.
"Is that so? Let's hear it, then. How much our Jaehee has suffered."
He fussed over me with soft little coos, and somehow that embarrassed me.
"Aah, Halbae, I'm not a kid anymore."
"And yet your face is red as a beet."
He poked my cheek, once and then again. It felt as if I'd been acting spoiled. So what. With Grandpa, a little of that was allowed.
"Anyway. I'll tell you."
"Go on, you little rascal."
When I finished the tale of the first operation, the smile vanished from his face. Of course it did. Hana had nearly died. He looked more than a little shaken, but he soon steadied, told me I had worked hard, and encouraged me. He said to bring Hana by sometime, too.
The episode with the team leader earned a smaller laugh. It was funny. Fully grown adults flinging cake at one another—I would have laughed myself. Even so, he said he wanted to meet our pint-sized noona, the team leader, at least once. The two of them talked the same way, and I found I wanted to bring her along. If they started hollering you rascal from one end of the place to the other, it would be pure chaos.
The hide-and-seek had held no real crisis, so he seemed to enjoy that part well enough. I was most satisfied with it myself. I had grown, and the proof of it had shown there more clearly than anywhere else. I had saved Ha Yerin, too… and I had forgotten I meant to ask about her. I would have to, once I got back.
Garidae Village cast a shadow over Grandpa's face all over again. The orphanage was his life's work; a story like that was bound to sit heavier with him. When the last of it was told, a quiet silence settled over the room. For a moment he closed his eyes, as if setting his thoughts in order. Then he rose and began working the stiffness from my shoulders.
"Jaehee. You worked hard."
"You did a great thing. A truly great thing."
He could have said he was worried. He could have asked whether I really had to do something so dangerous. That he didn't was its own way of telling me he understood—that one or two words like those would give me more strength than worry ever could.
"Well? Pretty impressive, right?"
I puffed up for no particular reason.
"Yes. You little rascal."
Grandpa smiled. That smiling face of his really was the best thing.
A murmur of voices came through from beyond the door.
"Easy, children. Slow down."
Seonghwan hyung. Had new kids come into the orphanage?
"Move!"
"You move!"
"Don't fight. You'll get hurt."
Those two were as lively as ever. The door banged open.
"Taehyeong, Hyejin—hey. You two still fighting?"
I lifted a hand in greeting.
"Huh? Jaehee hyung!"
"Jaehee hyung?"
"Jaehee hyung's here?"
The chatter swelled. Before I knew it, the kids had me surrounded.
"Hey, what were you doing that you're only showing up now?"
"Hyung was a little busy."
The quiet orphanage turned noisy in an instant.
"Hyejin was super mad, you know? You said you'd come often, and then you didn't—"
"Hey! Kim Taehyeong, when did I ever say that!"
Furious, Hyejin lunged at him.
"You cried! You said Jaehee hyung wasn't coming!"
"When did I ever!!"
Taehyeong ran, and his mouth never stopped the whole way. Cute. This was an energy only kids could put out.
"Children! Hands first. Taehyeong! Hyejin! Where do you think you're going—get over here and wash up!"
Same as ever. How was none of it any different from when I had been little? Seonghwan hyung had aged a good deal, too. Our eyes met, and the look on his face might as well have said, you little punk.
"Hey, Han Jaehee. You've gotten pretty dependable."
A palm came flying at my back.
"Cool, right? I'm a Grade 4 Librarian."
I had worn my dress uniform on purpose, just so I could brag.
"Well, now… the finest thing this orphanage ever turned out?"
He studied my Librarian ID, openly impressed.
"Hyung, I've got a bit of strength these days. Call me when you come up to Seoul."
I lifted my chin and laid the bluff on thick.
"Sure, you brat. I'll leave my card at home."
He snorted and played right along.
"Why would you leave your card!"
"Jaehee, men of the cloth are poor. You ought to treat him a little."
Grandpa put that in from the side.
"Then I'll leave my card at home, too."
"And I'll bring every last one of the kids, shall I? Rent a whole bus."
"Stop! Enough! Do not call me!"
I shot up in mock horror. Hyung and Grandpa, insisting it was only a joke, sat me back down. I had made a show of being horrified, but the corners of my mouth refused to drop.
"Seriously. Come."
"I'll pay for all of it."
"Look at you, putting on airs. You actually coming?"
Hyung probed, not quite ready to let it go.
"I said really come."
Really come. And when that day gets here… Team Leader, Hana, you'll back me up, won't you?
All at once he broke into a wide grin and scrubbed a rough palm back and forth over my head.
"We'll split it, kid."
"Aish, I told you I'm not a kid anymore."
"You're still a kid to me, brat."
His palm was rough. That was what those long years had cost him. It was something, being able to spend so much time for the sake of other people. All at once, he looked incredible.
"Hyung. You worked hard, too."
He paused, then seemed to catch what lay underneath the words.
"Yeah."
A simple answer.
We ate dinner, had a snowball fight with the kids, and talked about this and that, and before I knew it, it was time for bed. They lay huddled together on the living-room floor, and the sight of them was adorable. Growing up sturdy on love.
I turned and started for my room.
"Jaehee."
Grandpa?
"Mind if I step in for a moment?"
So he had something to say in private.
"Of course."
He shut the door and perched on the edge of the bed. One look at his face told me it was serious.
"Jaehee. Aren't you curious?"
My eyes went to the family photo on the desk. No mother in it. No father. Grandpa, Seonghwan hyung, me, the kids from the orphanage. Not one of us shared a drop of blood, and still we were no different from family. That was why it was a family photo. What he meant, most likely, was my parents—and the matter of how I had been born.
"Halbae, honestly, when I was little I really was curious."
"It was especially bad at the elementary education center. Call me an orphan—that was the kids' answer to everything."
"How did they even know I was one? Did it show?"
I tossed the joke out to keep the air from growing heavy. Not a flicker crossed his face.
"It got a little better after I met Hana. One of her parents isn't around, either."
"Once some time had passed like that, being an orphan didn't feel like such a big deal."
"Maybe because I've truly never seen Mom's face, or Dad's. Not even once."
I had no memory of them at all. My oldest memory was much the same—like the dark behind closed eyes, something that seemed as if it ought to be visible and wasn't. So there was no longing in me. But if he was asking whether I was curious…
"So I don't miss them. I don't want to see them, either."
"I am a little curious about how I was born, though."
"I'm kind of unusual, aren't I? That's what made me wonder."
I opened my hand and let my achromatic imagery power show. Grandpa's eyes narrowed. He knew something. Then again, it would have been stranger if he didn't.
"If you want, I can tell you."
"Jaehee. How it is you came to be here."
"Now… I believe I can tell you."
He did not look as if he were trembling, or afraid. Ask, and he really would give me all of it.
Even so.
"No. Don't tell me."
I had the feeling this was a story I had to find for myself.
"I want to look for it on my own."
Only then did Grandpa smile.
"Yes. You were always that sort of child."
He turned out the light and closed the door with care. Dark on every side, and still warm. Tonight, I thought, I would be able to fall asleep easily.
What's Hana doing right now. We'd talked about an amusement park, I was pretty sure. Is Seoyoung noona going too… I should have said I'd go with them. I should have.
"Why is everybody out here?"
The orphanage entrance was a racket.
"We had to come out. What, should we have stayed inside?"
"Aish, I was just saying, hyung."
"And I'm just saying it too, you brat."
The kids burst out laughing.
"Jaehee. Whenever you grow weary, come home."
"Come home even if you are not weary."
Grandpa stood with his hands clasped behind his back, and his smile was warmer than I had ever seen it.
"Of course. Kids—take care!"
I ought to come often. My heart was settling more than I had expected, as if body and mind, worn thin, had recovered all at once.
I started to leave, and something caught hold of me.
Hyejin?
"Are you really going to come a lot?"
"Lee Hyejin, what are you doing! She's confessing!"
The boys were teasing her.
"Of course I am. Want to make a promise?"
I held out a little finger and leaned in to whisper at her ear.
"Hyejin, you're cooler than the ones back there making fun of you."
With my other hand I secretly pressed four 50,000-won bills into hers.
"Brave people always come away with more. This is a secret."
Her face lit up.
"Yeah!"
We hooked our pinkies, and I walked out of the orphanage. I didn't look back. I could always come again.
"Lee Hyejin confessed! So embarrassing!"
"You brats, quit the teasing and get inside!"
"It's fine. Kim Taehyeong, you're just a coward who can't even say what he wants to say."
The voices thinned with distance. Hyejin's nerve held firm, just as I had thought. After that the words blurred until I could barely make them out. Was Taehyeong crying? Seonghwan hyung's shouting carried, too, and I was curious. But this was something to save.
For next time.
Dandelion Orphanage.
I hoped that the next time I came, both the sign and the fence would be fixed up clean and new.
Take care. I'll come again.