Devil’s Music

Dawn broke. Misophaes, dozing off on a tree branch, was startled awake by a sound from the house.

Geon Kim, guitar in hand, quietly stepped off the porch, putting on his shoes without making a sound. Misophaes, sweating coldly, couldn't take his eyes off Geon, tense with anticipation.

"He's coming this way! He must know I'm here!"

Geon, spending his first night outside his home, had a restless sleep. Rising early, he felt bored and decided to take a walk.

Noticing a huge Zelkova tree, Geon thought, "Wow, it's even bigger than the trees I saw in Jamaica."

Smiling at the gently swaying branches, Geon admired, "Such an ancient tree."

Misophaes, hiding among the branches, trembled, thinking, "He smiled at me! Is he thanking me for waiting to kill me?"

Geon sat under the tree, placing his guitar on his lap. He closed his eyes to feel the dawn breeze and lightly plucked his guitar.

Recalling a conversation with Shiva in Nepal, Geon whispered, "Listen not with your ears, but with your heart."

Strumming the guitar from top to bottom, he continued, "Live like water. Water flows without obstacles and stops when blocked. If water gathers, it breaks the dam and flows again. It takes the shape of the container it fills. Because it is humble, water is necessary and strong."

The beautiful melody from Geon's guitar blended with the early winter dawn, creating a soothing harmony.

Misophaes, his music easing the demon's spirit, was shocked, "Incredible! I was almost relaxed by a mere instrument after thousands of years."

Geon, with his eyes closed, sang,

"I close my eyes and see everything. I know I'm still there when I open my eyes."

Misophaes nearly fell from the tree in surprise, "He already knows I exist!"

Geon continued, "Whatever you do, you will not always be there. I just want to naturally disappear the dam between you and me."

Misophaes, scared and curious, listened intently to Geon's voice from below.

"Then I'll just come close to you like water and wrap it around you."

Misophaes, now terrified, thought, "Pyemon! The voice of Pyemon, the ruler of the western hell! Could it be that a Count-level demon like Pyemon has come to this primitive human world? If it's really Pyemon, a blink could obliterate me! I must flee!"

In panic, Misophaes flew away. Geon, noticing the tree shake, looked up in confusion.

"What was that? A bird?"

As the morning came, the Choi family was relieved to see their son lively again, jesting and running around like before.

The family prepared an elaborate breakfast for Geon, who had to leave their traditional house only after eating the most he ever had. The Choi family waved goodbye until he disappeared, hoping he would visit again.

Feeling bloated from breakfast, Geon skipped lunch and headed straight to Busan. In the afternoon, Geon arrived in Gijang County, Busan.

Checking his phone for the address at a stoplight, he saw "Gijang County, Busan Memorial Park."

Turning at the sign, Geon found the tranquil memorial park on a mountain, a peaceful resting place overlooking Busan.

Searching for section 5, Geon parked his bike and walked into the grassy area with gravestones, careful not to disturb the peace.

"Grandma, Geon is here," he said, kneeling before his grandparents' gravestone, faces he never knew.

Raised by a Christian mother, Geon preferred talking to his grandmother over traditional bowing.

"Grandma, I've completed my service. I'll be returning to the U.S. soon, so I came to see you."

Geon continued his one-sided conversation until an employee asked him to leave for the evening. He then visited his grandmother's apartment in Yeongdo, Busan, maintained well by his twin aunts, preserving the home as it was.

Inhaling deeply at the entrance, Geon seemed to smell his grandmother. After a shower and changing into comfortable clothes, he called his mother.

"Mom? I've arrived at Grandma's place."

"Good, Geon. Did you have a safe trip? I was worried when you didn't call. You must be tired, go to sleep. Oh, and when you come upstairs, open the second drawer of the dresser in Grandma's room. Her portrait is there; bring it home."

"Okay, I will."

After the call, Geon found the portrait in the drawer. Trying to close it, he noticed something blocking it.

"What's this? Did something fall behind when I opened the drawer?"

Struggling with the drawer, Geon finally pulled it out to discover a plump white envelope that had fallen behind. Curious about its hefty content, he opened it to find it filled with white letters.

Tearing open one, tears welled up as he realized, "These are letters from Grandma to Grandpa."

Sitting on the living room couch, Geon began reading the letters one by one. The letters revealed a strong woman who had single-handedly raised her children after losing her husband at a young age, yet, at heart, she was just a woman longing for her lost love.

The letters, never sent, were filled with words of love, longing, and life's trials, accumulated over the years. Reading over a hundred letters, Geon stumbled upon one that seemed to have been written just before his grandmother passed away.

"This must have been written shortly before she passed..."

Laying the letter on the couch, Geon wiped away tears, noticing a stain on the white paper that seemed like someone else's tears.

"To my husband in heaven," the letter began, calling back to a time 40 years prior, expressing the pain of losing him and the daunting prospect of raising their five children alone.

"I raised our children by working at the Jagalchi Market, always had to be the strong mother in front of our crying children, even when I missed you so much."

The letter expressed a fear that her husband, remembering her as she was in her youth, wouldn't recognize her aged self in heaven, a sentiment mingled with humility and love.

"My dear, I have married off all our children. Just tell me once that I've done well, that I've endured the harsh and difficult world without you. Just once, tell me, 'You've done well, you've suffered enough.'"

Overcome by emotion, Geon wept, feeling the depth of his grandmother's pain and longing through her words. Her letters weren't just expressions of love and longing but a testament to her enduring strength and resilience through decades of hardship.

All she yearned for in those letters was a simple acknowledgment from her late husband, a recognition of her struggles and sacrifices.

After a while, Geon carefully folded the letters back into the envelope, placing it tenderly among his belongings, ensuring it wouldn't crease.

Gazing at his grandparents' photo on the wall, the ticking of the old clock filled the quiet room, marking a moment of growth for Geon as he navigated the complexities of love, loss, and legacy through his grandmother's words.

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