CRP Ch 0

26 years ago, in the summer, a child disappeared in Cheongdam Village, Munsoo Township, Taeju City.

“Wandu!”

“Wandu! I told you to wash up and change, where did you go? Wandu!”

The whole house was turned upside down. The chubby-cheeked, pot-bellied, short-legged child was nowhere to be seen. She had been gleefully dodging the adults trying to catch her, then toddling after them when they pretended to flee, but suddenly, she was gone. The little girl who had been giggling, crying, and throwing tantrums had vanished without a trace of her unruly hair in sight.

“Is our Wandu hiding here?”

There was no way the child would be under an overturned pot, but her father, Junhui, checked anyway. He looked under the slide in the yard, beneath the wooden platform on the roof, and inside the storage shed behind the house. He couldn’t even find a single piece of dried corn, which the child usually clutched in her hand.

“Kangsuni, have you seen Wandu?”

Suwan, the mother, seven months pregnant, went out to Kangsuni, the dog who was lying down with her head poking out from under the porch. Wang! Wang, Wang! Suwan watched Kangsuni jump around excitedly, then put her hand to her forehead and stepped outside.

“Wandu!”

The parents, frantic to find their suddenly vanished child, dispersed under the scorching summer sun. Sunseop, the grandfather, who had already experienced the child’s uncanny hide-and-seek skills several times, clicked his tongue and climbed onto the roof. He pulled out his telescope and began scanning the surroundings.

“Where did she go? Wandu, you’re making Grandpa worry. Let’s see. Where has my little one hidden herself?”

Cha Onyu. The child, called Wandu, her nickname, rather than her given name, was only three years old. Yet her ability to appear and disappear was beyond words.

Even her conception dream was unusual. A golden pig had rampaged through the house, then, with peach jam smeared all around its mouth, it climbed into a large earthenware jar and fell fast asleep. They should have known then.

Now, Sunseop was worried about his second grandchild, due in a few months. Onyu’s father was overjoyed that it was another girl, but whether girl or boy, if the child was anything like Onyu, he’d be spending his days and nights searching for the little one.

🌼˳༄꠶

“Good girl. You eat so well. Oh, you have to spit out the seeds. Oh, you’re going to chew and swallow them? Alright. You chew so well. Yes, watermelon seeds are good for you. You know they’re good for you and you eat them all up. Oh, so smart. Good job.”

Onyu was sitting on a wooden platform in front of the village store, swinging her short legs and eating watermelon offered by Mrs. Ohn. In one hand, she clutched a half-full bag of dried corn.

She looked like a Cabbage Patch Kid doll. Her thick, short hair was slightly wavy, forming little curls. Round face, round eyes, round nose, round lips, and round cheeks that she constantly wiggled and puckered were Onyu’s distinguishing features.

“Our Wandu, is the watermelon that delicious?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t just eat watermelon. Eat grapes, peaches, and Korean melons too. You have to eat a variety of things.”

“Yes.”

“Did you have breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good. If you ate your rice, you should have some fruit too. That’s how you poop pretty poops just like our Wandu.”

“Yes.”

The child’s belly, having devoured the watermelon without leaving a single bit of red flesh, looked like half a watermelon itself. Her sleeveless shirt, newly put on that morning, was already stained with seaweed soup, kimchi, ketchup, and now watermelon juice.

“Store Grandpa!”

Onyu, having placed the watermelon rind on the tray, stretched out her chubby arms and hands. Mr. Jeong bent down towards her.

“Oh, yes. Our Wandu, what shall I give you this time?”

“Tomato!”

“Alright, alright. You want a tomato? Wait a minute. Store Grandpa will go and pick a nice ripe red one for you.”

“Yes!”

Slow-moving Mr. Jeong became remarkably quick when it came to Onyu. Mrs. Ohn shook her head in disbelief as she watched Mr. Jeong shuffle towards the nearby vinyl greenhouse.

“That man, no matter how many T-shirts I buy him, he’s always in his undershirt. Let’s wipe your hands, Wandu. And your mouth too, it’s so sticky. But Wandu, where is your mother? And where is your father, who always follows you around? And your grandfather? Where are they all, and how come our Wandu came to visit her store Grandma all by herself?”

“Wandu came by herself!”

“Yes, yes, that’s right. Wandu found her way here all by herself? So smart. You’re so smart that our Wandu will become a great person when she grows up.”

“Yes! This mooorning! I ate thiiis much rice!”

Onyu raised her hands high to demonstrate how much rice she had eaten that morning. Mrs. Ohn nodded.

“That’s right. You have to eat thiiis much rice to become a great person. Ah, should we give our Wandu some blueberries?”

“Blueberries! Blueberries are yummy!”

“That’s right. You know about blueberries too. Our Wandu knows everything. Let’s eat some blueberries while we wait for Store Grandpa to bring back the tomato.”

“Yes!”

“Look here. Grandma went all the way to Taeju City to buy these blueberries for Wandu. But Wandu, aren’t you full after eating so much?”

Mrs. Ohn looked at Onyu’s protruding belly as she popped blueberries into her mouth like she was picking up beans.

The child truly had a hearty appetite. Last spring, she had chewed up a wild ginseng root that her grandfather had dug up from the foot of Mount Munju, and a few days ago, she had snuck a sip of the adults’ makgeolli (rice wine) and passed out.

But she wasn’t just a good eater. Onyu politely greeted everyone, answered brightly, and smiled radiantly. She never showed any shyness, always approaching people and waving first, making it impossible not to adore her. Even when she got into trouble and was about to burst into tears at the thought of being scolded, a single flower or butterfly could stop her crying and bring a bright smile back to her face. It was only natural that she was the darling of the village elders.

Cha Onyu. Her name, meaning gentle and soft, was chosen with the hope that she would grow up with such a personality. It was said that her father, Junhui, a professor of Korean Language and Literature at Hankuk University, had spent months deliberating on the name.

It was a name that perfectly suited the sweet child, who had two of the most loving parents in the world. Everyone in Cheongdam Village had no doubt that a child as gentle as her name would be born.

Wandu was her nickname. They had called her Wandu so much during the pregnancy that it stuck. It came from her father calling her mother “Wani,” and thus, the little bean inside Wani became “Wandu.” Since she was the first baby born in Cheongdam Village in nearly twenty years, everyone eagerly awaited Wandu’s arrival in the summer.

[So, it’s a girl? Oh my, how pretty she’ll be. If she takes after her mother and father.]

[Don’t even say. They’ll cherish her so much they won’t let her out of their sight.]

[She can come out here, why not? Who in Cheongdam Village would harm a child?]

[Anyway! It’s a blessing for our Cheongdam Village. When Wandu is born, I’ll buy her a walker, so everyone knows. A walker is essential for a baby!]

[That’s true.]

No one tried to stop Mr. Jeong’s excited chatter.

[Then I’ll have to buy our Wandu a little car. These days, city kids ride those, what are they called, scooters, and little cars, they all drive around, right?]

[What are toys for? We should think about the child’s education. I’ll buy our Wandu a schoolbag. If she takes after her father, she’ll be bright.]

[Why buy a schoolbag for a child who hasn’t even been born? Honestly, so impulsive.]

[Right. I’m impulsive. While I’m at it, I should also get a princess-like dress. A dress is essential for a daughter!]

[That’s true.]

The competitive outpouring of impulsive promises didn’t stop. Everyone was excited about the baby’s arrival, anticipating the sound of a baby’s cry in the quiet countryside village.

[She needs several dresses. A frilly one, a fluffy one, a yellowish one, and matching shoes for each set.]

[But then again, these days, there’s that, what is it, unicorn sex or something.]

[Oh my, Mrs. Ohn. Why are you saying such things in broad daylight? But isn’t a unicorn a horse? Then it must be quite enormous.]

[What are you talking about? You don’t know anything. Just because it’s a girl doesn’t mean you only buy pink skirts. You have to buy robots, blue-eyed dinosaurs! Let her play with guns and learn Taekwondo!]

[Ah, I think I’ve heard of that. Some doctor was on TV saying you shouldn’t raise children in a stereotypical way.]

[That’s true.]

No one corrected “unicorn sex” to “unisex.” But since they understood each other, there was no need to say it twice.

From the day news of Suwan’s pregnancy spread, people talked about the baby every time they gathered. That’s how much everyone wanted and waited for Cha Onyu.

But it was strange. The baby that Suwan, who had been known for her cool and refreshing beauty since childhood, brought out looked just like her nickname – a pea. A plump, ripe pea with two cheeks that looked like they’d been cupped.

[…Who does the baby resemble?]

[…Not her mother.]

[…Nor her father?]

[…That’s true.]

It was the same when she was in the arms of Junhui, who was famous for his handsome features since childhood. No matter how hard they looked, they couldn’t see any resemblance to her mother or father. It was a mystery how her genes had combined.

[She’s cute though.]

[Of course. If you look closely, she has a high nose bridge. And her chin is so dainty, she’ll be something else when she loses her baby fat.]

[One thing’s for sure, our Wandu has beautiful eyes. Her eyelashes put camels to shame. And her double eyelids are so perfectly defined. Even foreign children don’t have those. She’ll be a beauty when she grows up.]

[…Really?]

[…No?]

[…Really.]

[Well, say something. You have a mouth to speak.]

[That’s true.]

The baby started holding a spoon by herself at four months old. At nine months, she stood holding onto the grandmothers’ hands, and by ten months, she was running. She often fell and cried, but she bravely got up and ran again.

Even after she was born, she was called Wandu, her nickname, instead of Onyu. It was because they had called her Wandu so much during the pregnancy that it had become a habit.

The carefree child grew up surrounded by the love of not only her parents but the entire village. She grew plump and firm like a well-filled dumpling, as strong as a pebble, never even catching a cold.

Onyu roamed freely through the village vineyards and peach orchards as if they were her own backyard. The village cats and dogs were all her friends, and the dirt ground and puddles were her playground. She slept, played, and ate well anywhere, growing up healthy and strong.

And so it was now. Onyu, having come to the store on her own short legs, danced in front of Mr. Jeong, sang along to Mrs. Ohn’s clapping, and was enjoying a feast of snacks.

“Oh my, you’ve already finished?”

“Yes.”

“Goodness, I should tell your grandfather to plant some blueberries.”

Mrs. Ohn wiped Onyu’s pouty lips after she finished the blueberries and sat quietly with her hands folded. She looked towards the greenhouse, wondering why her husband, who had gone to pick tomatoes, was still not back, then her gaze drifted further.

White clouds drifted over Mount Munju, boasting greener foliage than the day before. Everywhere she looked, Cheongdam Village was a picture of peace. Mrs. Ohn yawned widely and was about to fan away some flies when she saw a tall figure running towards her, looking around, on the narrow path between the orchards spread out at the foot of the mountain.

“Wandu’s here!”

Mrs. Ohn recognized Junhui and waved, shouting. Seeing his hurried steps, it was clear that Onyu’s father had been looking for her.

“Oh my, running in this heat. Wandu, you didn’t tell your father you were coming here?”

At the word “father,” Onyu’s round eyes sparkled, and she jumped up. She politely bowed to Mrs. Ohn, her protruding belly folding forward, and toddled down the narrow path. The bag of dried corn was still clutched tightly in her hand.

It was puzzling. Junhui had once mentioned that he loved how much Onyu resembled Suwan. To Mrs. Ohn, Onyu seemed like a child who had fallen from the sky, not from under her mother’s legs.

This meant not only that she didn’t resemble her mother at all, but also that she was so precious and lovely that she might as well have been a gift from heaven.

“Daddy!”

“Wandu!”

Junhui scooped Onyu up in his arms, and her clear, bright laughter rang out.

“He must be so happy. So happy. Of course.”

Mrs. Ohn watched the father and daughter reunite from afar, then spotted Mr. Jeong returning with a few large, perfectly shaped tomatoes, and clicked her tongue.

“You’re late.”

“…I have to give these to her. Wandu said she wanted a tomato.”

“You’ll be there for a while, watching Wandu eat the tomato. You never did this for your own three sons, but you do it for someone else’s granddaughter.”

“Our Wandu is just so lovely.”

“That’s true.”

The couple nodded. No one in the village had ever seen Onyu cry. Wandu, the undisputed princess of Cheongdam Village, Cha Onyu.

The era of Cha Onyu, a child everyone couldn’t help but love, had begun.