The Wail of a Newborn
Glug-glug-glug.
Kang Hyeong-seok dumped the liquor on a quiet stretch of mountain, far from any house. He had checked more than once that it was ownerless, unregistered land, and he had scattered glutinous rice flour around the site as well, so that the deed would leave nothing behind to fester.
Thwump! Thud! Thud! Only then did he fill in the pit where the liquor lay, packing the earth down thick over it.
"Do you really have to go to all this trouble?"
Kang Doo-seok, who had helped with every last bit of it, said it like a grumble, and Hyeong-seok smiled thinly. "It's not normal liquor."
"Anyone with eyes can see that much…."
"It looked like a kind of wugu — a curse carried in a vessel."
A word that meant nothing to Kang Doo-seok. In front of the maternal uncle, seated in the passenger seat and wearing a puzzled look, Hyeong-seok carried on talking with his father. "It's dangerous. If someone had actually drunk it, this wouldn't have ended at a hospital."
"No, brother-in-law, where on earth did you get this stuff?"
Perhaps because Kang Doo-seok's gaze had drifted toward the car. The passenger door swung open and the uncle popped out, and in that instant Doo-seok's eyes snapped to Hyeong-seok — a look that asked, is this all right? But the disposal was already finished, and since the uncle was the very person the curse had been aimed at, his coming out changed nothing. Hyeong-seok shook his head without a word.
"What's taking so long?"
"It's complicated, what Hyeong-seok's doing."
"Ugh, he could've just dumped it down the toilet and been done with it."
The uncle knew nothing of shamanism. He had no interest in it either; to his mind it was all superstition, every last scrap of it. There was nothing wrong with that. If anything, Hyeong-seok thought that living like that was the best way a person could live. But had it not been for Kang Hyeong-seok, this was a man who would have paid dearly for it.
"Uncle — who did you say gave you this liquor?"
"Someone I work with. He's not a bad man. Probably didn't even know it had gone off when he handed it over."
The uncle, who might well have met with something terrible, kept right on defending the giver.
"Brother-in-law! Anyone can see he gave it to you to pull something on you."
"I'm telling you, he's not that kind of man."
Staring at the emptied liquor bottles with troubled eyes, the uncle picked up his phone. He thumbed through his contacts, then turned the screen for all of them to see. "I'll call him myself. You can hear for yourself what he has to say, hyung-nim." And with that, he pressed the call button straight away.
The uncle must have counted on the call connecting at once. An apology would come out of the man, awkward and embarrassed in equal measure, and then surely a promise to treat him to proper liquor next time.
"The number you have dialed does not exist. Please check the number and try again."
But no such thing happened.
"…Huh?"
Bewildered, the uncle pressed the call button again. And again, the same recorded voice flowed out.
"Brother-in-law. Looks to me like he meant this from the very start."
"Now hold on, hyung-nim. There's no way. There just isn't."
Deeply rattled, the uncle began dialing other people too. "Hello? Yes, Team Lead. You know — the carpenter over at Gwangilhwa. I think I saved his number wrong; could you send me his contact?"
He called the freshly sent number, and that call didn't connect either. Like a man bewitched, the uncle stared down at his silent phone.
"No. He's not the type to do this…."
"Brother-in-law."
"No, hyung-nim, he really isn't the type to just disappear like this. Did something happen to him? Why would he do this?"
Scratching his head in confusion, the uncle's eyes had changed a great deal from before. Had the man truly meant to do him harm? That sliver of doubt felt as though it had trampled down the confidence rooted in his eyes.
"Um. Uncle."
"Huh…?"
Hyeong-seok, who had been watching him, pressed his lips shut, then opened them with care. "How many people received this liquor?"
Kang Doo-seok's face turned to one that said oh no, and the uncle's eyes wavered, visibly. That is the nature of liquor. There is no rule that you brew only one bottle. Nor is there any rule that you share it with only one person.
"If that man had something ugly in mind, I doubt he'd have given it to you alone. Is there anyone else who took a bottle, Uncle?"
Under the joined gaze of Kang Doo-seok and Kang Hyeong-seok, the uncle rubbed at his mouth. The deep crease between his drawn brows seemed loaded with worry.
"There are… a few…."
"Then call them."
At Hyeong-seok's pointed push, the uncle fumbled with his phone. Then he let out a sigh, muttered a soundless curse, found someone in his call log, and dialed. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.
As the ringing stretched on, the uncle's unease swelled to match it.
"The call cannot be connected. Forwarding you to voicemail."
"Damn it! Seriously."
Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Three calls, made back to back. Three different people on the other end.
"The call cannot be connected."
Not one of them picked up. Realizing that things had gone from tangled to thoroughly knotted, the uncle wrung his forehead as though to squeeze the dread out of it. The situation was racing toward the worst.
VROOOOM! Out on the car-only road, Kang Hyeong-seok kept his lips pressed tightly together.
It was ten at night, and a low fog had settled over the asphalt. The place felt bleak and eerie because of it, and the eeriness only fanned the sense of something waiting in the dark.
Why on earth? What could he have been thinking, handing out liquor like that? This was a man who had deliberately set out to do the uncle harm — and not only that; he had passed the tainted bottles around to others as well.
Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.
"The call cannot be conn—"
Click! To the uncle, who had killed the call in irritation, Kang Doo-seok spoke in a low voice. "Don't wind yourself up over it. Something must've come up. Could be he drank himself under the table."
"All three of them at once? Does that really make sense?"
Kang Doo-seok, left with nothing to say, turned his eyes to the blank window. It was after that when he called out, "Hyeong-seok! How far till we get there?"
"About five minutes."
"Phew. Sorry, son. It's your day off."
Hyeong-seok answered nothing. He sucked at his lips and gave the wheel a couple of light taps with his thumb. Four bottles of liquor. Three people gone silent and unreachable. No — not quite. The man who gave the liquor was unreachable too. And that was what made it dangerous. What sprang to mind at once was the dividing of calamity — not unlike what that accursed Noh Soo-chul had done long ago, scattering coins across a public street. But it was plainly a far more vicious act than that.
"To hell with it — what in the world is this liquor?"
Kang Doo-seok murmured it like a sigh, and Hyeong-seok's heart echoed him. "We'll know once I see it." He said it half under his breath and moved his eyes to the navigation, which was announcing that a mere three minutes remained to arrival.
Bang! Bang! No sooner had the car stopped at the destination than Kang Doo-seok and the uncle flung their doors open as if they'd been waiting all their lives.
"Hyung-nim! This way!"
Kang Doo-seok, spotting Hyeong-seok stepping out of the car, hurried straight after the uncle. In this situation, the one who could actually help was his son. He hoped it wouldn't come to that — but if this turned out to be something that needed a shaman, then there was nothing Kang Doo-seok or the uncle could do.
Clank! It was a shipping container being used as makeshift lodging. Seeing that the lock had been fastened from the inside, the uncle hammered on the door with his fist. "Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim! Open up! Open the door!"
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
"I said open the door!"
Like the calls that would not connect, no answer came from within.
"Brother-in-law — check the meter first! Is it running?"
"Y-yes!"
"Ah, hell — there's someone in there, all right."
"Mr. Kim! Can you not hear me? Hey!"
BAM! BAM! BAM!
Probably because it was now certain that someone was inside. The uncle pounded the door harder than before, while Kang Doo-seok scanned the surroundings. Then he found a window — and Hyeong-seok was looking at the very same spot.
Crash!
Without a moment's hesitation, Hyeong-seok hurled a hefty stone to shatter the glass, slid his arm through, and released the latch. Then he vaulted up over the window frame to go open the door.
Chalalalalang! That was when the shaman bells he'd kept pocketed began to ring.
Inside the pitch-black container. As the ominousness of it sent gooseflesh crawling up his spine, the uncle's urgent voice stabbed into his eardrums. "Hyeong-seok! The door — open it, quick!"
Right. That came first. BAM! BAM! BAM!
Hyeong-seok went to the door still being hammered and undid the lock; in the same breath the uncle rushed in and hit the switch beside it. Click! The interior of the container lit up. Yellowed linoleum. Air steeped deep in the stink of sweat and feet and stale cigarettes. Night air pouring in through the broken window. And a liquor jug and empty cups. And a man lying fallen.
"Mr. Kim!"
The uncle ran straight to him and hoisted up the man called Kim. White foam smeared around his mouth; his eyes held no focus. "Mr. Kim! Mr. Kim! Snap out of it. What's the matter with him! Wake up — wake up, I said!"
The uncle shook him, but the man gave no more response than a corpse would have.
"Hye-Hyeong-seok! Call 119! Hyung-nim! Help me lift him!"
"Y-yes!"
The instant Kang Doo-seok took hold of Mr. Kim's ankles, the man who hadn't so much as twitched suddenly arched his back hard — and flung his mouth wide open. And out of it burst a sound that should never have come from a human mouth.
"Waaaah! WAAAAAAaaah!"
The sound of a baby crying. No imitation — a wail as high and piercing as that of a newborn, booming through the container.
Goosebumps sheeting up their skin, Kang Doo-seok and the uncle stared down at Mr. Kim, frozen where they stood. "WAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAaaaAAAH!"
Like red ink blooming through water, blood flooded the whites of Mr. Kim's eyes. Trickle… Red blood spilled from his nose and crawled down over his cheekbones; blood welled from his mouth as well, staining the white foam at his lips a wet crimson. "WAAAAAAH!"
Even as he wailed on like an infant, shaking his body, the uncle's hands slipped free and he dropped to the ground. Thud! Mr. Kim fell head-first, and drew both arms in toward his chest. Even that posture looked like a baby's, and instinctively — the uncle, and Kang Doo-seok after him — they understood that this was no longer anything the sane world could explain.
And just as Mr. Kim's lips began to wriggle and twist into something grotesque —
Chalalalalang!
Kang Hyeong-seok, who had been silently studying Mr. Kim, drew out the shaman bells and rang them. In the same instant, the eyes of the uncle and Kang Doo-seok converged on him. Chalalang! Chalalang! Chalalalalang! Eyes fixed on Mr. Kim alone, Hyeong-seok strode forward step by measured step. Then he covered Mr. Kim's face with his palm, and shaking the bells in fine, quick tremors, swept his hand upward — from belly, to chest, to throat.
"Hear us, O Heaven and Earth — be pure and bright, we pray!"
"Of Heaven and Earth, of Qian and Kun, of yin and yang — be ye purified!"
"Of sun and moon and all the stars — be ye purified!"
"Of the gate above, the White Tiger, the high serpent — be ye purified!"
"Of spring and summer, autumn and winter, all four seasons — be ye purified!"
"Of day and night, of mountain, of water — be ye purified!"
The uncle does not believe in shamanism. Kang Doo-seok was never a man close to it either. All either of them knew was that Hyeong-seok was said to have received a god — and so the sight of him ringing the shaman bells as he chanted the Purification Mantra seemed strange to them. Otherworldly. Chalalang! Chalalang! Chalalang!
"Of men and women, all who come and go — be ye purified!"
"Of the three corpses and the frozen earth — be ye purified!"
"Of strange hues and binding shades, of every demon — be ye purified!"
"Of the year that has died and its spirits — be ye purified!"
"Of the five directions and the five seasons — be ye purified!"
"Within the village and beyond its bounds — be ye purified!"
"East and west, in every quarter — be ye purified!"
And yet neither of them could have stopped him or found his voice — because Hyeong-seok's bearing was overwhelming, and because Mr. Kim, who had until that moment been foaming blood and wailing like a baby, was quieting by degrees.
Trickle… Blood-flecked foam welled up between Hyeong-seok's fingers and slid down to the floor.
"Of dog and ox and horse — be ye purified!"
"Of stable and byre and pen — be ye purified!"
"Of well and spring — be ye purified!"
"Of the Taisui star, the year's evil, the broken year — be ye purified!"
"Of year and month, of day and hour, of death in all four seasons — be ye purified!"
"Of this house and every house — be ye purified!"
"Wandering ghost — look far to another place! Beyond ten thousand li — depart, retreat, and be gone!"
At that very instant, Mr. Kim's body heaved violently. Then the man went slack and docile, and Hyeong-seok lifted the hand that had been covering his face.
The container was filled with air so silent, so heavy, that even the sound of breathing seemed impossible. In that stillness Hyeong-seok looked at his palm and narrowed his eyes, pushing a slow breath out between them.
A beast's hair.
What had burst out of Mr. Kim's mouth was clinging to Hyeong-seok's palm, soaked through with blood.