TFEB 01

Chapter 01…

 Uninvited Guests in Paradise

The sea surrounding the island was three-colored. The shallowest water was a transparent white, the middle section was a clear jade green, and the waters farther out took on a dark, almost black hue.

It had been nearly three months since I began living on this island, lured by the title of a magazine article: “A Travel Destination Unknown to Koreans.”

Every morning, I went to my favorite café and ordered a mocha latte to go. Then, with a bag containing my snorkeling mask and beach towel slung over my shoulder, I walked along the dirt road.

Since horse-drawn carriages traveled along this road, one careless step could land me in horse manure. Those were particularly unlucky days.

After walking carefully north for thirty minutes, I would arrive at my regular restaurant. I planned to spend the rest of the afternoon in the nearby sea.

The day before yesterday, yesterday, and today, my satisfying routine continued without a hitch. Unless something unexpected happened, this was how I intended to spend my days.

“Hello.”

The restaurant was relatively new, so it was clean and spacious. If it were in Korea, its name would be something like Mr. Kim’s Restaurant. Its trademark was a red fox.

“You’re here again today.”

An employee came out carrying a bottle of water on a tray and smiled at me. The young employee had the fresh, youthful air of someone barely twenty. Every time I saw them, they felt as familiar as a younger sibling.

“Please look after my things again today.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Most people who came to the island were here for vacation, so theft wasn’t really an issue. Still, it never hurt to be careful.

More than anything, my coin purse, which contained my cash, was something my mother had personally knitted for me. If I lost it, I could never get another one. It was a one-of-a-kind, mother-made limited edition.

“Now, since I went over there yesterday…”

After surveying the area to decide where I would explore today, I put on my snorkeling goggles.

I left my shoes beneath the hammock and walked steadily toward the sea. I hurried across the scorching sand before throwing myself into the water with all my might.

The shallow sea warmly embraced my back. Without exerting much effort, I moved my arms and glided beneath the surface.

My parents had been terrified that their only daughter might drown, so they had made me attend swimming lessons with ruthless determination. As a result, I graduated from the advanced class at our neighborhood swimming pool and grew into someone capable of swimming skillfully in the open sea.

Last year, I even made time to earn a scuba diving certification.

Thanks to that, I’d spent the past month completely absorbed in the charms of scuba diving. But in a sea like this, wasn’t snorkeling without all that heavy equipment the best of all?

Whenever I felt bored, I would simply throw on a swimsuit and head out to spend a couple of hours swimming in the shallow waters.

It was hardly surprising that the two swimsuits I’d started with had gradually multiplied into seven.

The restaurant employee often asked me how I could possibly love swimming so much. They said the sea frightened them because they couldn’t see what was lurking beneath its surface.

But that was only because they didn’t know the waters of Dalos.

Beneath its breathtaking, three-colored sea, blessed by the gods, lived swaying seaweed, rainbow-colored fish, and turtles, the symbols of good fortune.

Most tourists visited designated spots hoping to see turtles, but I had found a little shortcut by asking the locals for help.

All I had to do was close my eyes and buy a beaded bracelet that cost around ten thousand won, and the vendor would personally take me to a place where turtles could be found.

I only needed their help on the first and second days. After that, I started searching for turtles on my own.

Once I learned the routes they took when moving around to eat seaweed, finding them became a piece of cake.

Within a week, I’d become an expert at spotting turtles. Then I changed my target and devoted my enthusiasm to photographing fish I’d never seen before.

Today, I was circling the same spot for an entire hour because I wanted to see that little blue fish I’d spotted yesterday.

“Ha!”

I’d dived too deep, and water had gotten inside my snorkeling mask.

I raised my upper body and hurriedly took off the mask. A refreshing gust of air filled my mouth as I took a deep breath.

“I’m hungry…”

I should eat first, take a short nap, and then head back into the water.

I’d spotted the blue fish at around three in the afternoon yesterday. It was only a little past one now, so I’d decided to return in two hours.

I slowly moved my arms in the opposite direction of the approaching waves.

Like a little fish being carried along by the current, I relaxed my body and let myself drift. Before I knew it, my mind had emptied.

That was why I loved swimming in the sea. There was so much to look at that I barely had time to think.

“I’d like one fried rice, please.”

The moment I got out of the sea, I headed to the restaurant and placed my order.

Since water was dripping all over me, I couldn’t go inside. Instead, I stood outside and spoke to them.

“You don’t need a drink?”

The man taking my order asked with a friendly smile.

I thought about the café latte I’d bought that morning, but since I was always relying on this restaurant, I decided to order a drink to support its business.

“A mango smoothie.”

The male employee nodded as if he understood. After chatting with him about the weather and the fish I’d seen today, I returned to my spot.

I spread my towel over a long rattan bench and lay down, preparing to take a nap.

The shade cast by the trees blocked out just the right amount of sunlight.

I’d have to brace myself for at least thirty minutes before my meal arrived. The restaurant owner was incredibly slow at preparing food.

Even so, when it came to taste and service, this place was considered the best in the entire neighborhood.

I was so satisfied with my life of eating, swimming, and taking long, carefree naps that I couldn’t even bring myself to book a flight back to Korea.

I’d initially thought I’d stay for a month or two, but now I’d nearly completed three whole months.

The island was so small that I could explore the entire place in a single day. Yet time here seemed to move both slowly and at lightning speed.

Sometimes, I jokingly wondered whether I should immigrate here, but the place that had shaped me into the person I was today wasn’t exactly an easy place to leave behind.

“I was wondering why things had been so quiet lately.”

The sound of my phone ringing, buried deep inside my bag, woke me up.

The peaceful nap I’d been drifting into seemed to recognize the caller and immediately fled in fright.

Without even looking, I reached into my bag, pulled out my phone, and answered the call.

“Hello, my beloved mother.”

There was a ten-out-of-ten chance that it was my one and only mother calling.

I simply couldn’t bring myself to ignore that poor soul who had once again been forced by my father’s nagging to call me today.

[Eundam. Is now a good time to talk?]

My mother, who had entered menopause and seemed to have abandoned even the most basic courtesy toward others, was speaking in an unusually gentle voice.

Was this a sign of happiness?

Or was it the opening signal of an impending disaster?

“Of course! Who else would I make time for?”

I had to be a sweet and affectionate daughter to my mother.

It had absolutely nothing to do with her menopause. The reason was that my travel funds depended on the money in her bank account.

If I acted up or offended her, I’d have no choice but to give up this peaceful life and board a plane back to Korea.

Poor mother. She had no idea that her only daughter was answering her call while casually picking her nose.

My mother, who used to complain every day that she felt lonely because her daughter wasn’t around, must have finally found some miraculous herbal medicine. Her voice was unusually excited.

[I’m at the airport with Aunt Suyeong right now.]

Aunt Suyeong.

The moment I heard that name, a familiar combination automatically appeared in my mind.

My mother’s middle school classmate and lifelong best friend, Aunt Suyeong, along with the man who formed a perfect pair with her, Uncle Suyeong’s husband.

And, of course, my father.

He was probably sitting glued to my mother’s side, eavesdropping on our conversation.

“Where are you going on vacation? That’s great! While you’re at it, visit Europe, then America, and have fun for three or four months.”

I could picture it perfectly, even with my eyes closed.

The white living room of their old apartment. The leather sofa. The red kitchen.

I had no desire to spend my days listening to my parents, who lived in a place that looked like a set from a 1990s drama, constantly crying out my name.

Besides, for personal reasons, I wasn’t particularly fond of Aunt Suyeong and wished my parents would cut ties with her.

But if they were leaving Korea together, I would welcome that with open arms.

[Oh, you silly girl. Where would we get that kind of money? America and Europe? With that money, we could visit Southeast Asia ten times over.]

“……Southeast Asia?”

At my mother’s strangely hesitant tone, a forgotten nightmare suddenly resurfaced.

Whenever my mother or father had done something that would make their only daughter fly into a rage, they always tried to beat around the bush.

“Where are you going? Which part of Southeast Asia?”

[Well, you know… There are lots of nice places.]

“Where exactly are you talking about? Huh?”

Even though I pressed her with growing anxiety, my mother continued to put off answering.

I couldn’t remain lying down any longer, so I sat up cross-legged.

As I nervously shook my foot, my knee began bouncing up and down.

“Mom! Did you hang up?”

[We’re leaving in thirty minutes.]

“Congratulations, but where are you going?”

It had been nice that my parents had invested the money they’d painstakingly saved from running their jewelry store, hoarding every penny like misers, in their daughter.

But wasn’t there a saying that nothing in this world came for free?

Under some invisible law, I always ended up paying the price.

[That island you like so much. I told Aunt Suyeong about it, too, and she said it sounded wonderful. She said she was jealous. The cost of living is cheap, too…]

One, two, three.

I could practically hear the sounds of something snapping inside me.

The parts of my brain responsible for intelligence, manners, and humanity were breaking one by one.

The scorching emotions swirling inside my chest rushed straight up to my throat.

“MOM!”

Click.

The call ended.

My face, frozen in shock, was reflected on the cold, black screen of my phone.

My mother was coming to the peaceful paradise I’d wanted to keep all to myself.

And, naturally, my father was coming with her.

Aunt Suyeong, the absolute worst person among all my mother’s acquaintances, was coming too.

And so was her husband.

The chances were one in ten million, but perhaps that bastard would come along as well.

“ARGH!”

I roared as I slammed my phone against the chair.

At the same time, raindrops began falling from the sky.

The employee who had been bringing my mango smoothie stopped and looked up.

“It’s starting to rain. Do you want to come inside?”

The island had passed from the sunny dry season into the rainy season, and rain could fall at any time of day.

“It’s okay. It’ll stop soon.”

The employee set the mango smoothie down on the table, which was gradually getting wet, and hurried back into the restaurant for shelter.

Perhaps that employee was thinking something like this:

That crazy woman from Korea is obsessed with water. Whether it’s the sea or raindrops, she just loves it.

“Yeah. I’m crazy.”

Four balls of fire were about to settle down on top of the sweet cotton candy paradise I’d spent three months carefully building.

And that was only the best-case scenario.

What kind of miserable fate awaited me if five people showed up instead?

“This place is going to become hell.”

There was no other way to describe it.