Young-hee and the Pullocho (7 page)

“True,” said Cheonha, “but there are still dangers. What you need is a guide.”

“I don't suppose jangseung can get up and walk around in this world, can they?”

“
Hehe
, no. But our friend Grandma Dol can,” said Cheonha. “Isn't that right, grandmother?”

An old woman, large and lumpy, with chalky skin, shuffled out of the forest. She moved slowly but steadily, using a cane, with a large bag strapped to a wooden frame lashed to her back. She wore a bulky, gray traditional
hanbok
, like Korean peasants in old paintings. After a long pause, she asked, “Eh? What are our guardians rattling on about today? Never have I heard such a chatty couple of jangseungs.” She talked as slowly as she walked, but with the same assuredness of purpose.

“Greetings, forest elder,” said Cheonha, his beard swishing as he talked. “We do have a favor to ask of you. And your partners, of course.”

“Oh, and what's that? To buy all of my wares, sparing me a tiring day in the market?”

“I'm afraid we don't have the
jungbo
for a single one of your famous lanterns. But we'd like you to show the market to our friend, Young-hee.”

“Your …
friend
,” said Grandma Dol.

“She is from far away and would like to learn more about our world and customs,” said Jiha. “Could you show her around and keep her safe?”

Grandma Dol shifted her shoulders to adjust the heavy load. She flashed Young-hee a quick look, just a once-over, but it felt like the old woman had seen into her soul. Her face was heavily lined, stoic, and unreadable.

“Very well,” she said, resuming her slow, steady pace. “Come along, child. The goblin market is fast-moving. You could get lost if you aren't careful. Stay close.”

Young-hee leaned in close to Jiha. “You said I was the first person you'd seen in a long time,” she whispered. “What about Grandma Dol?”

“Don't be fooled by appearances. Did you see her skin? She is really a stone.”

“A
stone
?”

“Yes, a very old, wise stone. You may see many things that look like people, but you are the only bear-child around. Never make assumptions. Now, don't dawdle. Stay close, and she'll keep you out of trouble.”

“Thank you so much, General Jiha,” said Young-hee more loudly. “And General Cheonha. I won't be long.” The jangseung shouted cheerful goodbyes as Young-hee scrambled to catch up to the old stone woman—a quick task, given Grandma Dol's pace. If she really was a stone there was no telling how old she might be, and in Young-hee's experience, the older someone was the more carefully you should treat them.

“Uh, Grandma Dol, your bag looks very heavy. Maybe I could carry some things for you.”

Grandma Dol walked a while and then answered, “Thank you, Ms. Young-hee, but no. These are my wares, and mine alone to carry.”

“Okay. But if I can help in any way, please tell me.”

Another pause.

“You are not familiar with dokkaebi markets, I gather?”

“Not really. I mean, they have … uh, where I'm from. But they're just kind of busy and dirty. Old people selling vegetables and things.”

“… Oh.”

“I mean, not
old
people. Not that there's anything wrong with old. I just meant, uh … just people.”

“You like to talk before you know what you want to say,” Grandma Dol said. Young-hee regretted her careless mouth, but, for once, Grandma Dol volunteered a comment. “That can get you in trouble in a goblin market.”

“Are goblins really dangerous? Like those big, toothy dragonflies?”

“…Like what? Dokkaebi can be … treacherous in their way. They are not violent or fierce, like wild animals, but they are full of trickery. And you would make quite a prize, should you end up in a goblin's debt.”

Young-hee didn't like how that sounded. “A prize? Like kidnapped?”

“No, dokkaebi have no power over free creatures. But debts can take away our freedoms, and can be incurred in a variety of ways. … Stay close. And do not take anything, not even a gift, unless I hand it to you.”

Young-hee was not sure what Grandma Dol meant, but she thought it best to obey. After the quiet of the forest, Young-hee was startled by the goblin market, roiling with people and creatures, jammed into row after row of wooden stalls, each filled from the ground to high in the air. Everywhere were foods, powders, potions, trinkets, and caged animals being bought and sold. Roots, herbs, and plants hung from hooks, or filled huge sacks carried by squat creatures that lacked their own stall. Large pots full of
banchan
side dishes gave off aromas Young-hee had never smelled before. Most people wore hanbok
clothing—from bright and fancy to off-white and stained. The air crackled with sounds—voices haggling, boxes clattering, birds squawking, dogs barking, and animals hubbubing in unfamiliar ways. One stall featured wires hung with cured animal parts in shapes Young-hee had never seen. The stall next to it featured parchments, papers, and scrolls, most of which seemed incredibly old. Hanging in the air in front of the stall, one scroll contained Chinese
hanja
scratchings completely different than those she studied at school. A couple of stalls later, someone was selling a puzzling collection of metal instruments that looked vaguely scientific or astronomical.

As the market's name suggested, most stalls were run by goblins. Dokkaebi. Young-hee had heard of the troublesome little monsters—as common in Korean stories as trolls, leprechauns, and genies in Western tales—but she never expected to see one for real. They were short and wrinkled, with green-gray skin, heavy as a rhinoceros's, and as just as ill-fitting. Many had short, thick horns. Some had clumps of wiry hair on tops of their heads or in beards, but never a full head of hair. Their hands were stubby, with short, ungainly fingers; their mouths filled with large teeth. With their large eyes and half-grimacing expressions, most didn't look terribly threatening. They did, however, smell—
like soot
, she noted.

Grandma Dol trudged through the chaos, paying it no mind, until she came to an empty old wooden stall. Evidently hers. She slid her bag onto a table. “Are you hungry?”

Young-hee was about to say “no,” when a deep, rumbling noise came loudly from her belly. “Sorry,” she said guiltily. “I guess I am.”

“Of course,” said Grandma Dol. “I brought plenty for us both,” and produced a large cloth bag from her sack, set it on a smaller table, and pulled out food wrapped in lotus leaves. And what food! She had pickled white kimchi made of acorns and chestnuts; thick slices of plant roots marinated in honey and rice wine until they were as soft as jelly; strips of seaweed—
gim
—that tasted unexpectedly of chestnut and flowers. There were colorful flakes that looked suspiciously like butterfly wings, spiced and rendered edible; garlicky chestnut cakes Grandma Dol called
meyrtawng;
and the whitest, softest rice balls ever, which Grandma Dol called
kaybal
.

“Please, enjoy,” said the old stone woman.

“This is the most fantastic food,” Young-hee gushed. “I recognize only half the things, but even those I know taste so much better here.”

When they finished, Young-hee tried to help Grandma Dol clean the dishes and leftovers, but she didn't want help, and so, Young-hee just got out of her way. Grandma Dol opened her bag and laid out her wares: lanterns, boxes, carvings, and knickknacks.

“These wooden wares are the finest in the market, the finest this side of Lake Mey. All the fairies buy my lamps, and you know
they
appreciate quality,” she explained. The rest of the market churned with such energy that Young-hee worried Grandma Dol would be ignored.

“Where are you, now?” the old stone mumbled as she rummaged through the box, and then lifted out a wooden shape. It was roundish, painted on one side, with three holes in the middle, and two black ropes hanging from either side: a mask. Grandma Dol pressed the wooden mask to her face—and it seemed to come alive. The edges stretched and pulled at Grandma Dol's pale skin, latching on to the sides, her chin, and forehead. Mask and face both contorted horribly as they melded, and Young-hee feared the old woman was being hurt. Then, with a slight pop, there was just one face: a beaming young woman, with white skin, apple-red cheeks, bright lips, and black hair in two pigtails.

“Good day to you!” exclaimed Grandma Dol, no longer sounding like a grandmother. Or a stone. “Welcome to the finest woodware shop in the market. We promise lanterns that shine twice as bright for twice as long, marvelous boxes with hidden compartments guaranteed to protect your most valuable secrets, and
najeon
lacquerware that can repel even the foulest curse!”

“Uh, Grandma Dol?”

“No, not anymore. Well, sort of. I'm Boonae, Grandma Dol's business partner.”

“You're what?”

“Not what—who. I'm Boonae! Grandma Dol knows how to find the best artisans, but she is not much of a saleswoman.”

Young-hee had to admit this Boonae stood out, even in the mad goblin market. “Well, it's good to meet you, Boonae,” said Young-hee. “I've seen masks like you on TV before, but nothing so … uh, real.”

“
Teebee
?” Boonae repeated, puzzled. “Is Teebee a friend of yours?”

“No, I just meant …”

“No matter, the day's a-wasting, and I need to sell.” The Boonae-masked Grandma Dol turned to the bustling hordes walking through the market and shouted a quick, engaging patter:

Deals, deals, the finest goods,

The finest crafts, all made of wood …

As the crowds gathered, Young-hee hung back and watched. Boonae worked them masterfully, teasing and entertaining them into a shopping frenzy. It was most impressive.

Just then, an enormous dokkaebi came down the crowded aisle, carrying a huge stack of poorly balanced, overflowing boxes. Shamelessly, he bounced and pushed into people. Young-hee pressed her back against one particularly smelly stall, full of cages containing small animals and insects. She felt a tug on her back pocket.

“Excuse me,” came a soft voice. Young-hee looked around but didn't see anything. “No, down here, miss.”

There, between the metal bars of a small cage, a hairy paw stretched to grab her lightly. Young-hee crouched down. It was a rabbit. “Hello?” she said.

“Greetings, miss,” said the rabbit. He was brown, with a dark nose and mysterious, green eyes. “If you don't mind, do you see an old, short man with a wrinkled face and black, frizzy hair behind the counter?”

Young-hee craned her neck. “Is he wearing a brown cloak?” she whispered. “A bit stained and tattered?”

“He could be, yes,” the rabbit whispered, sounding scared.

“I think I see him a couple of stores away, arguing with a gray lumpy thing.” A man matching the rabbit description was talking to a woman selling textiles.

“A woman who looks like an old, boiled cabbage?”

Young-hee giggled at the description. “Yes, that's her.”

“Mrs. Baek, then,” said the rabbit. “My keeper likes to gossip with her when business is slow.”

“You can talk,” she observed. She found herself growing less surprised by this sort of thing.

“Yes, yes, it makes communicating much easier. At least most of the time. But I won't have long until he comes back.” He looked left and right, checking if anyone could hear. “I don't suppose you can see a ring full of keys behind that stall? Perhaps hanging on a hook by the magician's stool.”

“He's a magician?”

“If you'd just check, please. Hurry, he'll be back soon. But, yes, he is a shaman, of sorts.”

This stall seem dedicated to powders and dried things (bugs maybe) piled into dirty glass containers, along with disorganized heaps of small, dusty boxes. “I don't see anything. I think I see a hook, but there's nothing on it.”

“Thank you for checking,” answered the rabbit sadly. “But I fear I am soon to become a stew.”

“Oh, that's terrible.”

“Maybe not, at least not for everyone. I'm told Kwon, my keeper, makes quite good stews. But for me, as I would prefer to continue living, it is distinctly problematic.” The rabbit let go of the cage's bars and sat despondently.

“I'm so sorry,” she said. “Could I just force the lock open? The cage doesn't look very strong.”

“Regardless of how it looks, the magicks binding me here cannot be broken easily.”

Young-hee turned and saw Grandma Dol a few feet away, negotiating with a couple of goblins. Or was it Boonae? She wasn't sure how masks worked. “Boonae, could you help us?”

The cheery young mask looked at Young-hee and the disorganized stall, excused herself and walked over. “Us?” she said. “Who is ‘us?'”