The air above the hills of Ganghwa Island was quieter than usual, quiet enough to make every breath and each twig crack count. Soo Young walked carefully on a path along the mountain spine, her boots grinding on dry grass. Jun Ho was ahead of her, making way against the branches so they wouldn't lash against her face. She kept the letter securely in her jacket's pocket, her father's last words directing each step.
The pile of stones lay ahead, covered in moss and thick shrubs. They weren't anything special, just time-worn boundary walls, deteriorating under time's relentless pressure. As they reached, Soo Young's heart was beating faster and faster, not because of the climb but by the fear of the unknown which they might uncover.
Jun Ho bent down and stroked his hand along the base of the wall. "No sign of a box or anything buried."
"Appa said it was hidden during a storm. Maybe something washed over it? Or maybe he moved it later…" Her voice dwindled.
They then carefully started grabbling the stones, one by one, cleaning away the dirt and old leaves. After almost an hour, their hands were scratched and freezing, but they found nothing.
At last, Jun Ho slouched back, panting. "He was smart. If he wanted to hide something from the wrong people, he wouldn't have made it easy to find."
Soo Young nodded, fixing her hair on her forehead. "I don't think we're meant to find it today."
All of a sudden, they hear this sound of distant footsteps on the gravel surface. They both turned around, shocked. Someone was standing at the base of the pathway, staring at them. He was wearing a black cap and a canvas satchel bag on his shoulder.
Soo Young squinted her eyes. "Is that… Tae Soo?"
Jun Ho recognized him, too. "It is. He left the village years ago after his father passed."
Tae Soo waved at them and started moving towards them, he was taking small steps, older, felt like he was carrying something heavier than a satchel.
As they reached the village again, Tae Soo had made a stop at various homes, greeted old neighbours with polite bows. Finally, reached Soo Young's gate as if years had overlapped and become indistinguishable.
"I heard about your mother's health and wanted to stop by," he said, looking at the house.
Soo Young, with a thin smile, said. "She's holding steady. Come inside."
He entered hesitantly, eyes examining the courtyard as if there were ghosts hiding. "It's strange. Everything's smaller than I remember. But the smell… the sea, the garlic drying on the line, it's the same."
Soo Young offered him warm barley tea and sat on the wooden porch. Jun Ho joined as well, resting against the post.
"What brought you back, really, Tae Soo?" Jun Ho asked out of concern.
Tae Soo stared into his cup and took a long pause before answering. "There's something I've been carrying for a long time. Something about Soo Young's father. I didn't know if I should say it, but when I heard Dae Sik ajusshi had been digging through old papers... I took it as a sign."
Soo Young gasped. "You knew my father?"
"We weren't close, not like family. But when I was fifteen, I helped him carry a crate into the woods near the east ridge. He said it was for someone traveling through at night. I didn't ask questions back then. I thought maybe he was helping smugglers or something worse. But after he died, I kept wondering."
Jun Ho crouched forward. "Do you remember where you left it?"
Tae Soo nodded. "I don't know if it's still there. Probably not. But I remember the spot clearly. There was a rock, shaped like a turtle, near the old charcoal pit."
Soo Young shared a glance with Jun Ho. "That's near the stacked stones."
Tae Soo paused for a moment. "There's more. A few months before he died, your father gave me something. Told me not to open it unless someone came asking about 'the message that travels without feet.' I didn't understand it then."
"And now?" Soo Young asked.
Tae Soo took out a tiny tin box from his satchel, which was packed in an oilcloth. The corners were rusted away, but the latch still held.
Inside the box were two things: a damaged picture of Soo Young's father with an unknown man, and a small reel of magnetic tape.
Jun Ho's eyebrows raised. "It's a recording?"
Tae Soo nodded. "I never had anything to play it on. I was afraid to even look at it for years."
He handed the tape carefully to Soo Young. It was quite heavy. "Do you know who the man is?"
"I think he was the one from Incheon. The one your father didn't trust."
That night, Soo Young was restless and couldn't sleep. The tape was kept on the table by the window, absorbing the moonlight. She was so anxious that after every few minutes, she thought she heard something, like whispering secrets through the wall or winds pulling the paper. But it was only her thoughts, all over the place.
She then went outside into the yard, draped in her shawl. The surroundings were quiet, only dimly lit by the lantern from a late-night fisherman's porch. In the distance, waves lapped gently at the shore.
In the silence, she was thinking about her father again, not just like the father who used to toss her in the air and laugh or fix the door locks while humming, but as someone who had lived with danger. He was protecting something larger than himself. And her mother, how much does she know about this? How much was she carrying in silence?
Just then, Uncle Dae Sik entered from the back gate, hands folded into sleeves.
"You spoke to Tae Soo," he asked.
Soo Young nodded.
Uncle Dae Sik sighed, then looked up at the twinkling sky. "We thought we could leave that part of history buried. But it has a way of finding breath again."
"Do you know what's on the tape?"
"I have my guesses," he said quietly. "But guesses don't build truth. Only time and courage."
Soo Young looked at him. "Then help me. Help me find what Appa has left behind. completely."
Uncle Dae Sik, after a long pause, gave a slow, solemn nod. "Tomorrow. I'll take you to the place only he and I knew."