Mudoo - Chapter 26

The blind elder was known as the most spiritually gifted mudang (shaman) in the village.

Poor folks who couldn’t afford to visit a clinic or buy medicine would either place water under the moonlight and pray or turn to a shaman for help. If someone was too sick to move, the elder would walk to their house herself—and each time, Tae-shin would support him along the way.

“You’ve got a cane, why don’t you use it?” he would grumble like a brat, but the elder would only laugh and lightly bop him on the head, muttering, “You little rascal.”

It was a time when deaths were frequent. People—young and old—died without clear reasons, and whenever a plague hit, half the village ended up buried.

The one who took in the orphaned Tae-shin and raised him was none other than the blind elder. The villagers would tell Tae-shin he was lucky to be taken into the elder’s home, which was relatively better off.

Though Tae-shin wasn’t particularly affectionate or gentle, he carried a sense of debt in his heart and did his best to take care of the elder in his own way.

“You’re really not gonna take money from them? I know it doesn’t cost you anything, but you’ve still gotta eat, right?”

They were on their way back from a patient’s house—someone who had been bedridden for days. The family didn’t seem well-off, but they probably could’ve offered at least a sack of rice. Still, the elder had left without asking for a thing.

“Kid, when have I ever made you starve?”

“Not yet… but at this rate, we’re both gonna end up sucking our fingers for dinner.”

“If you live kindly, the spirits will provide.”

“Yeah, right. Those folks? With what?”

The elder whacked Tae-shin on the head with her cane. He could let a lot slide, but speaking ill of the spirits? That was crossing the line.

“Ow! What if I get brain damage? You gonna heal me?”

“When are you ever gonna grow up, huh?”

Snow had fallen all night, turning the roads into a slushy mess. Even people with perfect vision were slipping, so Tae-shin nervously held the elder’s arm as they walked, worried she might fall.

Just as they neared home, a faint whining echoed through the air.

“Hold on a sec.”

The elder suddenly stopped and turned her head. Then, following the sound of the whimpering, he began walking.

“No way… don’t tell me…”

They could barely feed themselves—what good would another mouth to feed do? Taking in an animal was something only people living in fancy mansions could afford.

Tae-shin rushed after him, trying to stop him.

“Oh, this poor little thing.”

Despite his blindness, the elder somehow found the source of the sound, a puppy, covered in snow, crying on top of a wall.

“What do you mean, poor thing? It’s a stray. We’ve got our own problems.”

“It’s lost its mother.”

Tae-shin gave her a pointed look. “Isn’t one stray—me—enough for this house?”

“How can you turn your back on a life that’s as lost as yours once was?”

Tae-shin turned to glare at the puppy for a moment. He didn’t get it. How was he the same as a dog? At least he was pulling his weight.

“Lucky little thing didn’t freeze to death. Come here, let me hold you.”

“Sigh… Elder, come on…”

“Enough talk. Pick it up.”

Unable to win the argument, Tae-shin pouted as he lifted the puppy with one hand. He brushed off the snow, but the pup kept shivering.

“You’re on poop duty, feeding duty, bath duty—everything. I’m not doing a thing.”

As soon as he handed it over, the puppy snuggled into the elder’s robe for warmth. He cradled it close with a gentle hum.

“There, there. You’ve had a rough start too, haven’t you? Let’s get you inside. You’ll warm up faster by the fire.”

The elder took the puppy all the way into the inner room of the house. Not satisfied with the heated floor, the puppy whimpered and tried to crawl under the blankets.

“Elder! That mutt’s trying to get under the blankets with its dirty paws! Are you seriously letting it?”

“Then clean it. Bring me a cloth.”

“See? I knew it. You’re already putting me to work.”

Grumbling, Tae-shin returned with a cloth. The puppy, now feeling safe, was rolling around with its belly up.

The elder chuckled as he rubbed its tummy.

“Winter ‘dong’ and fortune ‘gil.’ Since you came to us in the dead of winter with luck on your side… how about ‘Dong-gil’ for a name?”

Tae-shin scoffed. “Why name a mutt? Just call it Mutt or something.”

“I want you and Dong-gil to be like brothers, like close companions. When I’m gone, this little one will be your family.”

“Don’t say stuff like that.”

Though he was the most respected shaman in the village, he was also its oldest resident. It wouldn’t be surprising if she passed soon—but for Tae-shin, he was still his only anchor in the world.

***

When Tae-shin woke up from a quick nap, Seula—who had been sitting in the rocking chair—was nowhere to be seen.

He stepped into the living room and casually headed toward the guest room. Inside, he heard soft rustling and movement.

“Seula, are you busy?” he called out, voice still heavy with sleep.

She answered brightly, “You’re up? Come in!”

When he slid open the door, he saw Seula and Dong-gil huddled close, like they were scheming something. Seula was packing clothes neatly into her backpack.

“What’s going on here?”

She looked up and grinned, showing her perfect teeth.

“We said we’d go see the winter sea in Sokcho, remember?”

“Right now?”

Tae-shin glanced outside. The sun was already past its peak—early afternoon.

He knew Seula was impulsive, but even so, this caught him off guard.

“If we leave now, we can get there before sunset. Let’s have some fresh sashimi for dinner.”

“I thought you wanted squid sundae?”

“That can wait till tomorrow. Sashimi with soju sounds perfect tonight.”

“You can’t even hold your liquor.”

“That’s just because I hadn’t drunk in ages back then. I’ve got a good feeling today. I think I’ll handle it just fine.”

Still standing there speechless, Tae-shin was finally nudged along.

“Come on, pack your stuff too!”

“Why are you packing so much? How long are we staying?”

“I don’t know… a day or two? I just want to be ready, depending on what I feel like wearing.”

Tae-shin chuckled and shook his head as he walked toward his room.

“Dong-gil, have you ever seen the winter sea?” Seula asked as she packed.

Dong-gil looked just as excited.

“I’ve seen the summer sea many times! Winter sea? First time, first time.”

“You’ve seen the summer sea? With Tae-shin?”

“Who else would I go with, who else?”

“So you have taken summer vacations, huh?”

Seula zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, testing the weight—right then, a knock echoed at the front gate.

“Wait… someone’s here? Now?”

No one had ever come to visit during her stay in Cheonghaedong. Why now, of all times—just when they were about to leave? She rushed out to greet whoever it was.

“Fox scent, fox scent!” Dong-gil scampered behind her, sniffing the air.

“Fox? Wait, what?”

The only fox she knew was Hobun, the gumiho. Still uncertain, she called out toward the gate.

“Who is it?”