The Owl Cries, page 4
She was in the midst of looking up travel destinations with no trees or forests or academic institutions (but not deserts) when she noticed Ha-in Lee lurking in the entrance. Ha-gyeong was alone in the office. Her sole colleague in the forestry department, a local who’d been working there longer than she and who’d impressed her with his full head of black hair, had already left for vacation.
Ha-in Lee’s suit was a nondescript color, but the narrow, blue-striped tie caught her eye at once. It wasn’t the color or design. It was just that hardly any of the center employees ever wore a tie.
Ha-in knew Ha-gyeong was staring at him from the moment she first noticed him, but he wasn’t bothered by it. He had the impression she wasn’t so much wary of an unknown visitor as that she had nothing better to do and nothing else to look at.
What actually had her distracted was the fact that Ha-in was a young man. She liked how thick and black his hair was. The old-timer locals were the kind to brag about which of them had the grayest hair. All at once Ha-gyeong felt self-conscious over the fact that Ha-in was just standing there, not saying anything. She realized with regret that what she should have done the moment he stepped into the office was to greet him and say, “Can I help you, sir?” As if this were a bank and he a customer at her window.
Ha-in was the first to break the spell. From his complete lack of hesitation as he approached her, she could tell he’d been watching her, too. She closed the browser window with the search results for travel destinations, though the screen wouldn’t have been visible to him anyway.
“Can I help you?” Ha-gyeong asked.
“You seem busy. Would you mind if I interrupt you with a few questions?”
“You don’t work here.”
“That’s correct.”
“And you don’t live here either.”
“No, I don’t. This is my first time in this village. I took a look around but can’t say I feel all that inspired to live here. I prefer somewhere with a lot more hustle and bustle.” His face turned apologetic. “Ah, that was rude of me. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to disparage the place. I just mean I’m not used to all this quiet and tranquility.”
“No offense taken! I prefer the same. Somewhere with hustle and bustle, I mean. I’m not from here, either.”
“Yes, I thought you might not be.”
It made her happy to hear that. She worried about being mistaken for a country bumpkin.
She carefully examined the business card he handed her. As she read and reread the few words printed there, she realized that she was feeling charmed by this Ha-in person, or more precisely, by this young lawyer from the big city. She’d only been cold to him for the briefest of moments, but she regretted it nonetheless. She didn’t even care that, aside from the fact that he was a lawyer and not from here, he wasn’t actually all that attractive, and, in fact, to put a finer point on it, his face was rather asymmetrical and unattractive.
“Have you worked here for a long time?” he asked.
“Four years,” she replied.
She was about to add that the four years spent in this mountain town had been a constant battle with boredom and loneliness, and that before that she’d been living in exactly the kind of noisy, bustling place that Ha-in, too, preferred, but he interrupted her before she could continue.
“Four years? Then you must know this place well.”
“Well enough not to get lost, I guess.”
“What about the locals? Do you know them well?”
“About as well as I know the streets. I know their faces anyway.”
“So you mean you can recognize them on sight?”
“Yes, this is a very small town, and I’m a quick study.”
“Then do you recognize this person?”
Ha-in handed her the photo and observed her as she studied it. This was something he enjoyed doing, watching how others reacted to things he’d handed them. He did it even when there was no particular need to. He liked catching the subtle changes in their tone or expression when they lied or beat around the bush to try to save their own asses. Ha-gyeong squinted and brought the photo up close to her eyes, then held it at a distance as she scrutinized the face Ha-in had pointed out in the photo. She didn’t appear to be hiding anything. Rather, she seemed to have a problem with her eyesight. It wasn’t just the photograph; he had also noticed her squinting from far away.
“Is he embroiled in some sort of lawsuit?”
“Lawsuit? Ah, in a manner of speaking, yes.”
“Is it a divorce, then?”
“Similar. Divorces are something of a specialty of mine.”
Ha-in was being cryptic in order to hold Ha-gyeong’s interest. He wasn’t lying exactly. He was just describing his line of work.
“This person is from here? I don’t recognize him.”
“From what I understand, he works in the forest,” Ha-in said, still feeling Ha-gyeong out.
“The forest? You mean, the ranger?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, so that’s what he looks like. I had no idea he was married, though. Don’t tell me he ditched his wife and kids and has been hiding from them out here? How awful.”
“Does he live alone?”
“Yes, as far as I know.”
“But given that you didn’t know his face before, I take it you haven’t met him?”
“I have not.”
“He never comes to the center?”
“He might, if he has reason to. But I’ve never seen him.”
“So you’re not in direct contact with the ranger at all? I was told he belongs to this department.”
“On paper, he does. But the property management department handles the actual day-to-day stuff.”
“I see. Property management. But how do you know he lives alone?”
“The old-timers get chatty when they drink.”
“Old-timers?”
“Ah, excuse me. The village elders.”
“There appear to be a lot of elderly residents here.”
“Depending on who’s doing the looking, sure.”
“What do they say about the forest ranger?”
She hesitated. She’d felt friendly and a sense of kinship toward him because they were both from the city, but it occurred to her just then that he might not feel the same way about her. She let the warmth drop from her voice.
“Do divorce cases require character witnesses?”
“It’s not actually a divorce case.”
“Then what is it?”
She couldn’t help but wonder if he was just messing with her, and her mood soured.
“It’s a missing persons case,” he said.
“Missing person?”
“Yes.”
“Who? The forest ranger’s wife?”
“No, the forest ranger.”
“You must be joking. Surely I would know if the ranger’s gone missing.”
“I’m not talking about the current one.”
“Then who are you talking about?”
“The one who worked here about six months ago.”
“You’re telling me that the forest ranger who worked here six months ago has gone missing?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken. The ranger working here now and the one who was here six months ago are the same person.”
Ha-in stared at her. She didn’t appear to be lying. Instead, she looked smug, having taught him something he didn’t know.
“This is making my neck hurt. Let’s go sit over there instead.”
Ha-gyeong had suddenly realized that she’d been looking up at Ha-in from her chair the whole time. She pointed to a sofa nearby and poured two mugs of coffee for them in the break room before rejoining him. She sat down across from him.
“The coffee smells good,” he said.
“You’re smelling a tree.”
“There’s a tree that smells like this?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Spoken like a true forestry researcher.”
“It’s called a coffee pine.”
“Really?”
“I’m just teasing. The people who work here like to say that even the coffee reeks of pine trees.”
“Is this what phytoncides smell like?”
“Only if you’re chewing Xylitol gum.”
Ha-gyeong and Ha-in laughed like they were old friends. It gave her a little thrill to see that he was responding to her sense of humor. The conversation was going smoothly. If their terse exchange could be called a conversation, that is.
“The forest ranger hasn’t changed in the four years that I’ve been here. It’s the same person as before I started.”
“But if you’ve never even met this person, how do you know they haven’t changed?”
“Well . . . because I’ve never posted a job ad for their position. And their monthly paycheck has always been made out to the same name.”
“The rangers are always hired by this department?”
“As far as I know.”
“What is the ranger’s name?”
“Name?”
“Is it In-su Park?”
“No, it isn’t. Actually, I’m not positive, since I’ve never really had to use their name before, but I’m pretty sure their family name is Kim, not Park.”
“Kim . . .”
“Yes.”
“Then do you know anyone who would know the ranger?”
“Most of the villagers would. They’re always drinking together. Having boys’ nights out, you know. Not that this place is exactly overflowing with boys.”
“Anyone in particular who might know him well?”
“You might try the owner of the dry cleaner’s.”
She suggested that place because the dry cleaner was the most callous of the villagers when it came to greeting strangers and, in some cases, was capable of making other people feel ashamed for merely approaching him. If that happened, Ha-in would remember her for having been extraordinarily kind. If everyone he met was welcoming, then he was unlikely to remember her at all, so there was nothing to be gained from introducing him to any friendly people.
“Where is the dry cleaner’s?”
“Considering there’s only one street in this town, you could find it blindfolded. It’s at the end of all the shops.”
“Anyone else I might talk to while I’m there?”
“Everyone has lived here so long that you could honestly stop anyone you see and ask. Oh, the bookstore owner has been here a long time, too.”
“Great, thank you. Actually, I met the current ranger yesterday in the woods.”
“You did?”
“He said he just started working there two weeks ago.”
“That’s impossible.”
“The person who worked here for six months before disappearing was named Gyeong-in Lee.”
“He couldn’t have been the ranger. There’s only one ranger, and his family name is Kim.”
It occurred to Ha-in for the first time that maybe his brother hadn’t been a ranger. It was entirely possible that his brother had been lying to their mother about it. Especially if he didn’t dare say what he’d really been doing.
“Is there a way to check whether a Gyeong-in Lee has ever worked here?”
“Only if they were a full-time employee or a contractor, but if they were working without a contract there’d be no record of them.”
“Do you get a lot of those here?”
“Yes, quite a few.”
“What kind of work do they do?”
“Logging.”
“As in lumberjacks?”
“Yes.”
“Is there that much to log?”
“It’s a big forest.”
“Which means a lot of day workers.”
“Seems that way.”
“Who’s in charge of managing day workers?”
It occurred to Ha-gyeong suddenly that she might be telling Ha-in too much. He seemed interested in her, but that could have been a ruse to get information out of her more easily. Either way, she thought better of mentioning her uncle just yet.
“That person isn’t here right now. They’re on vacation.”
“Then how about the person in charge of the forest rangers?”
“They’re also on vacation.”
“That’s a lot of people on vacation.”
“They’re the same person.”
“So they’ll be back in the office at the same time.”
“Yes, two weeks from now.”
“Two weeks?”
“We get a lot of vacation time here.”
“This’ll take some time, then.”
“Or maybe just two days. I’ll see if I can reach them by phone.”
Her uncle was in charge of managing both the loggers and the rangers. Ha-gyeong’s plan was to talk to him first and find out if it was okay to refer Ha-in to him. If her uncle said no, then she could just make up something about not being able to get hold of the person.
“Where are you staying?”
“In the guesthouse.”
“It’s not too noisy? I believe the loggers all stay there, too.”
“I was too tired yesterday to notice.”
“That’s fortunate.” She handed him a scrap of paper. “Write your room number and phone number down here.”
“Thank you.”
“So weird to think of a nonexistent person having gone missing. It’s funny. I don’t know what happened, but I hope you find him.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“How much longer will you be in town?”
“Hopefully not much longer,” Ha-in said, then added with a smile, “But I’m not going anywhere until I hear back from you, of course.”
Ha-gyeong smiled back at him. It pleased her, this easy sense of collusion with a man she’d just met for the first time. She liked the implied promise in the way he said he wasn’t going anywhere until she called him. But who were these mystery rangers she’d never heard of? Feeling puzzled, she sipped her now-cold coffee.
5
Heated iron is like an animal in rut: slow to cool. And like an animal in rut, you can tell simply by looking at it whether to keep your distance. It’s not just the color. It’s the air itself. Heated iron changes the air around it. The heat coming off the metal moistens the air, makes the particles heavy, blocks your windpipe, strangles you.
Entranced by that stifling, hot air, Chang-gi Choi did all of his ironing with the temperature turned up as high as possible. So high that if he so much as held it near silk, the fabric would burn. When he had first started ironing, he would test the iron with his hand only to end up ruining the clothes. Touching the hot ironing board felt like nothing at first. The pain never started until after his skin had turned hot. And it was only after burning multiple pieces of clothing and leaving multiple scars that Chang-gi Choi understood the time lag between injury and pain.
The iron that had seared his hands so many times rested meekly on an ironing board four and a half feet long. He’d been using the same iron ever since opening the dry cleaner’s. Though it had been more of a takeover than an opening. All he had done to open the shop was come up with a new name for it. Mr. Jin had handled everything else and hadn’t asked why a dry cleaner’s. That Mr. Jin never asked too many questions was the only reason Chang-gi still gave him the time of day.
While pushing the red-hot iron across a white shirt, Chang-gi glanced up now and then to watch the street outside slowly turn dark. He liked most things about running a dry cleaner’s, but his favorite was ironing in front of the window as dusk fell. The time of evening when his face floated hazily in the glass. In the ruddy twilight, his cheekbones were sharp, his mouth was indistinct and somehow flippant-looking, and the deep marionette lines on each side made him look quick to anger.
Chang-gi sometimes stared at himself in fascination. He liked the image reflected in the window, the erasure of his features that left behind a faint shadow or a hovering ghost. No other mirror or reflective surface could reproduce him so perfectly. He made sense only when blurry.
It was hard to tell from his reflection in the glass, but the outer layer of his hair was almost entirely gray. To his surprise, though, the hair underneath still grew in black.
“You’re not growing more black hair,” An-nam Lee had retorted. “It’s just that the hair you have hasn’t gone gray yet.”
Chang-gi had dismissed this as envy, but afterward he felt confused about which was true: was he still growing black hair, or was his existing hair slowly turning white? Not that it mattered. At his age, there was no other life-changing event to look forward to besides growing old.
Back when business had been thriving at the gas station next door, the smell of gasoline used to mix with the smell of dry cleaning solvents and linger stubbornly in the humid air around the iron, which was left on all day. But he had endured it without suffering a single headache. This despite seeing An-nam, who was nearly his only customer and could barely smell a thing due to his chronic rhinitis, react to it in disgust, making it clear that the fumes should have been unbearable.
When there were no clothes to iron, no pants to hem, and no zippers to reattach—which was most of the time—Chang-gi passed the hours staring blankly at the clothes hanging from the ceiling like butchered meat. They belonged to the researchers. They had all left when the research center moved, leaving the clothes with virtually no hope of anyone coming back to claim them. Chang-gi sometimes wondered if the reason for his current lack of customers was the clothes filling the ceiling, but that was absurd.
