AMGWPM 08

Chapter 8. In an Unknown Land (3)

I turned my body and adjusted my sitting posture.

That was because I saw Jung Mi-rae, whom I had been anticipating, loosening her wrists to play.

Until now, the children had wanted to play the piano themselves, so she had merely watched quietly.

But since Ayeon had no song she wanted to play, it seemed Mi-rae intended to play for her herself.

If it was a simple piece, Ayeon would be able to follow along quickly.

Although I had only seen her play once, Ayeon’s skill was top-notch.

‘Oh, she’s going to play now.’

Mi-rae’s hands, having fully loosened her wrists, gently rose above the keys.

And then they moved slowly, like a tree branch swaying in the wind.

Sol-sol- La-la- Sol-sol- Mi-

It was a very familiar melody.

“School Bell Rings Ding Ding Dong.”

I could confidently say it was the song I heard the most among the many nursery rhymes my mother sang to me when I was one year old.

‘Was this made by a Korean?’

Why do I know this? Thanks to my wonderful father who imparted musical knowledge to me, of course.

My father told me many backstories about pieces. He briefly explained when this song was made and for what reason.

This song was created in 1948 by a Korean named Kim Merry. A very simple four-measure song.

The nursery song melody was simple enough that Mi-rae could play it without looking at her fingers, making eye contact with Ayeon instead. Therefore, Ayeon would likely be able to listen and follow along immediately. She was the kind of child who kept playing because she didn’t like “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

Mi-rae’s performance continued.

Past the 2nd measure, past the 3rd measure, and soon the 4th measure.

Sol-mi- Re-mi….

But the song could not continue.

Mi-rae could not play the final ‘Do-‘ that would end the song.

A silence descended.

The noise from the upright pianos played by the other children diminished, and the stillness created by Mi-rae grew.

I subtly moved my pupils to look at her wrist.

A finely trembling right hand.

A left hand hastily covering that right wrist.

Her short, broken breaths and shuddering shoulders looked painful.

I couldn’t tell if it was because she was embarrassed or because of a shame she couldn’t bear to show.

However, the one certain thing was that there was something seriously wrong with Jung Mi-rae’s wrist.

She hurriedly spoke to Ayeon.

Trying to divert attention from her own wrist, I saw her suggesting the child try playing the piano. The sound of the children’s pianos was blocking Mi-rae’s voice, so I only barely caught ‘…shall we try?’

Soon, Ayeon began to play.

Sol-mi- Re-mi- Do-

It was a performance where everything, including the finish, was perfect.

Since it was a simple melody, Ayeon could play it right away.

However.

‘Did she overuse her wrist?’

My attention was drawn more to Mi-rae than to Ayeon.

For a pianist, the hands are more precious than anything. How important the wrists that support those hands are, I knew.

Once, my wrist hurt so much I couldn’t sleep at night. According to a friend, it was a condition caused by using the wrist too frequently. Before my fingers were severed, it was among the most intense pains I had felt. Because of it, I couldn’t play the piano for months, only resting. I even thought about quitting piano altogether.

I wondered if Mi-rae was having such thoughts too.

‘If she is having such thoughts…’

I won’t let that thought take root. I can’t let a talent bestowed by heaven be given up so easily.

Jung Mi-rae couldn’t concentrate on listening to Ayeon’s performance.

An excruciating pain was causing her right wrist to tremble violently.

Goosebumps broke out all over her back, and cold sweat began to flow down her shoulder blades.

As rough breaths passed through her lips, disturbing her breathing.

“…Teacher, are you okay?”

Ayeon spoke.

Finally coming to her senses, Mi-rae looked at the child. Eyes shining with innocence, knowing nothing. Mi-rae felt as if the numerous eyes in the large music room were all looking at her at once. She felt a sharp sensation, as if those pure windows would pierce right through her. That chill she had felt long ago was pricking her skin.

When she could no longer bear the tension, chills, and goosebumps tightening around her throat and was about to bolt from her seat.

Tap.

A small hand gently covered hers. Mi-rae saw it.

Ayeon was making a worried face.

“…Teacher, are you okay?”

She was barely able to regain her composure.

Let go of the past that’s already gone, Mi-rae steeled her heart.

So, she lightly shook her head and began to talk with Ayeon.

“Has Ayeon ever learned piano before?”
“Yes, I learned at an academy.”
“Oh, really? That’s why you play so well.”
“Hehe.”
“Can you tell me how old you were when you started playing?”

Ayeon thought for a moment, then spread her fingers and said.

“Three years old!”
“You learned early. Thank you for telling me, Ayeon.”

A smile formed on Mi-rae’s face, contrasting with the flowing sweat.

Just as she was about to raise her voice to send Ayeon off and call the next friend.

“Teacher Mi-rae!”

Another teacher, who was watching the children, whispered in a small voice.

“It’s time to go to the classroom now. It’s snack time.”

Looking at the watch on her wrist, the time was past 9:10.

Having been educated herself, Mi-rae knew snack time was important, so she got up from the chair.

“Friends who couldn’t play piano with the teacher today, we’ll do it again tomorrow. Okay?”

At that, a few children whined as if disappointed.

But most nodded, saying they understood.

“Then, I’ll be going. Enjoy your snacks, see you later.”

Saying that, Mi-rae left the music room as if fleeing.

Just before closing the door, her eyes met Heeseong’s.

It was only a brief moment, but Mi-rae seemed captured by an inexplicable sensation.

“Huh…”

In front of the music room door, she slumped down.

Pain had suddenly returned to the wrist she thought had gotten better. She thought she had escaped the past, but she was still trapped. Mi-rae tightly grabbed her own wrist and barely managed to let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh my, Teacher Mi-rae!”

Startled by the voice calling her, she sprang up from the spot.

Turning her head, she saw who had called her.

“P-Principal…?”
“What are you doing here? Is your wrist hurting?”
“Ah, i-it’s fine…!”

Mi-rae hurriedly covered her wrist.

But the principal was quick-witted, so she grabbed Mi-rae and hastily headed to the principal’s office.

The principal began wrapping a bandage around her right wrist.

In the quiet office, Mi-rae was at a loss, only checking the principal’s mood.

It was the principal’s gentle voice that broke the silence.

“The children cried a lot, didn’t they?”

At the principal’s question, Mi-rae nodded and said.

“So I took them to the music room. Music calms children down, you know.”
“You did well. Killing two birds with one stone, observing the children too.”

What the children were like, how they should be taught—the two began talking about ordinary things. Their eyes were on Mi-rae’s wrist, but the conversation was the kind teachers would have.

Their talk continued.

When the principal finished tying the bandage, she offered tea.

“How were the children?”
“They were all good. A few were good at playing, probably because they’ve taken lessons.”
“Any children catch your eye?”
“Ayeon. She was good, probably because she goes to an academy. Seems talented too.”
“What about Heeseong?”

That was because during the counseling session with Heeseong’s father, Yong-hoon, she was told the child had learned piano from a young age. The performance she heard when Heeseong came for the admission interview was deeply etched in the principal’s mind. Among the many children’s performances she had seen, only Heeseong’s came to mind.

“I didn’t get to see Heeseong today. I’ll have to see him tomorrow.”
“Good. When you hear Heeseong play, Teacher Mi-rae, you’ll be very surprised.”
“I hope so.”

Mi-rae gently rubbed the bandaged wrist.

Watching that slowly, the principal whispered softly.

Setting aside the position of principal, speaking as one person, a teacher.

“Does it still hurt?”
“You know. This pain is just something conjured from the past.”
“Mi-rae, you’ve been hurting for years, that’s why you say that.”

The principal was someone who knew Mi-rae’s past and understood her pain.

So, the principal’s gaze was tinged with pity.

Receiving the familiar gaze, Mi-rae slightly lifted the corner of her mouth and said.

“I have to overcome it somehow. To escape the past…”
“Right. How could I win against your stubbornness.”

The principal looked at the tea in the cup and fell into thought.

It was hard to see her former student trapped in pain.

It wasn’t a problem she could solve.

Nor could she offer rash advice, so she fell into deep contemplation.

“Become close with the children. That’s all the advice I can give.”

It was something the principal could say because she too had healed past pains with children’s laughter.

Mi-rae knew too.

However, that this wound wasn’t one that would easily heal with children’s laughter.

She smiled bitterly and said.

“I’ll try.”

Mi-rae was in charge of three classes in total, including the Peony Class where Heeseong and Ayeon were.

So there were still many children she needed to check.

Even if she couldn’t play the piano, she had a duty to know what the children liked, what songs they wanted to play.

The parents had told her before admission, but Mi-rae wanted to hear it from the children directly.

Even at five years old, children can express their own opinions.

Mi-rae wanted to listen to those opinions and hoped the children would go on a better path, which is why she was running around like this.

“Then, I’ll be going. I still have classes left.”
“Will you be okay with your wrist hurting?”
“I’ll have to play with my left hand, what else.”
“Sigh… Alright, fine. Work hard, Teacher Mi-rae.”

Mi-rae left the principal’s office and, walking down the hallway, lost herself in thought.

There were still many children she hadn’t asked.

Not just the Peony Class, but other classes too, so she had to be busy running around.

‘What kind of music does Heeseong like?’

Since the principal praised Heeseong a lot, Mi-rae wondered inwardly.

She resolved that tomorrow, she must definitely hear Heeseong play.

“Heeseong-ah. How was kindergarten?”
“It was good!”

After lunchtime, my father came to pick me up.

It was my first day of kindergarten, and it seemed he came personally, worried I might have had a hard time.

In the car heading home, my father, unable to contain his curiosity, began a barrage of questions.

“Were there a lot of cute kids?”

I’m five years old, father.

Isn’t that question a bit too early to ask your son?

I didn’t say that.

Instead, I decided to ask what I was curious about.

“Ah, there’s a teacher who plays piano really well.”
“Really? Who could it be? Will you tell Daddy?”
“Um… the teacher’s name was… Ah! It was Jung Mi-rae!”

No sooner had I finished speaking than my father’s eyebrows shot up.

Anyone could tell he was surprised; his reaction was unmistakable.

He said in a loud voice.

“Really? She is working as a teacher?”
“Yes! Is she a very great person?”
“Of course! Before you were born, she played piano so well she was even on TV! You can probably still find it if you search.”
“Really? I want to see!”

My father readily told me the information I wanted.

The hot midday sun heated the car, and my father’s voice, filled with reminiscence, was the same.

Just hearing my father’s explanation made my interest begin to surge.

“Suddenly she disappeared, and she was working at a kindergarten…”

Huh? What does that mean now?

At my father’s words, my curiosity about Jung Mi-rae grew even more.

“Daddy, Teacher Mi-rae disappeared?”

From deep in my heart, something was urging me to find out about her.

I didn’t refuse.

I was curious about Mi-rae.

The smile she had before leaving the classroom wasn’t easily forgotten.

Because the corner of her mouth had trembled as if something heavy was weighing it down.

Holding curiosity about a modern pianist, I asked my father.

“Well, you see…”

My father opened his mouth, and the car continued down the road.

And a short while later.

“Th-that’s really true?”

I couldn’t help but be utterly astonished.