The Last Moon

When I first met her, she was pale, emaciated, yet her smile was warm. She was dressed in a loose robe-like gown that showed the sharp angles of her joints when she moved. She carried a bundle of flowers she attempted to sell to everyone who passed by.

There was something in her golden eyes that was both desperate and crafty, wild and careful. I watched for a short time, as she failed to sell a single flower, before I approached.

“How much are the flowers?” I asked.

“Whatever you feel is fair,” she said.

I opened my wallet, pulled out a fifty, and handed it to her. “I’ll take all of them.”

“Oh, kamsahamnida,” she said with a bow. “It is too much, sir. I have no change.”

“Instead of change, will you join me for dinner?”

“Wha—why?”

“There’s something interesting about you, and I’d like to know more. Besides, you’ve sold all your flowers. Do you have any other plans?”

“I…no,” she said with a bow, “I have no other plans.”

“You don’t have to bow to me. I’m Alex Watts, by the way.”

“Kim Soon-ja…I mean, um, Soon-ja Kim.”

“Still getting used to the switched around name order? That’s ok, Kim Soon-ja. Would it be okay if I called you Soon-ja?”

“I…uh, yes, that would be okay Alex Watts.”

“Please, just call me Alex.”

“Ne, Alex.”

“No? Oh, right, ne means yes in Korean. I’ve watched enough Korean movies and shows I should know that by now, even if I can’t pronounce it quite right.” I gestured down the road toward the area where the restaurants were. “Shall we?”

The area where the restaurants clustered was beginning to fill up with the early dinner crowd. “What sounds good?” I asked. “Steak? Sushi? Pizza?”

“No meat,” she said.

“You’re in luck. There’s a new vegan Asian-fusion joint down the way, and no crowd.” I led her there, hoping the food would be edible and not some meat-free, gluten-free, taste-free crap.

To my surprise, the smell on walking in was heavenly. Garlic, herbs, spices, and some undefined, heady scent that made my mouth water. “Looks like a good spot.”

We took our seats and were given water and menus.

Soon-ja glanced at her menu and set it down.

“Would you like me to read the menu to you?” I asked.

“Please.”

I moved around the table to sit next to her and began reading the menu. The pad Thai sounded like a good choice to me, but as soon as I read kimbap, she brightened.

“Oh, kimbap, please. And kimchi if they have it.” She pronounced the k’s somewhere between an English k and g.

I started to rise in order to move to the other side of the table, and she put her hand on my arm. “Stay, please?”

“Of course.”

Her eyes shone with tears as she tried the kimchi. She began to eat her kimbap, popping each large piece in her mouth in a single bite and savoring it. She leaned against me. “I miss my home,” she said, popping another slice of kimbap in her mouth.

“What brought you to the states?” I asked.

“A plane.”

I chuckled. “Right. I mean, why did you decide to come to the states?”

“I am trying to find a relic that was stolen from the spring shrine I guard.”

“A Buddhist shrine?”

“No, older than that,” she said. “The spring is the home of a water spirit, and the relic is meant to keep it safe. Now, no one visits the temple.”

“That sounds like a lonely existence.”

“It is the life I chose. You are still right, Alex Watts, it is lonely, but not for much longer. My trial is near an end.”

“Trial?”

“If I told you, you would think I am crazy.”

“Try me.”

“To cease being a kumiho, I must go a hundred years without meat, restore the temple, and discover what it means to love and be loved by a human.”

I thought about my words with care. It wouldn’t do to confirm her suspicion about what I might think, but she might need help. “You say human, why is that?”

“Kumiho,” she said, pointing at herself.

I let it go. “A hundred years? So, your whole life?”

She laughed, that warm smile spreading again. Something dangerous flashed behind her eyes as she leaned close and looked in my eyes. “I am two thousand years already. Do not tell anyone.”

I nodded and mumbled a promise. I was certain that she needed help, but I couldn’t force it on her. The best I could do was to be a friend, and if the opportunity arose, I could suggest, gently, some counseling.

I had finished my pad Thai and she had nearly finished her kimbap. “Do you have any hints about where the relic is?”

“It is in an antique shop. I am trying to make enough money to buy it back.”

“Can I help?”

“No. You do not even know me.”

“Well, Soon-ja, I would like to know you. Do you have a phone?”

“Ne.” She pulled a phone out of her robe that seemed to have hidden pockets everywhere. “A kind woman gave it to me on my first day here. She was a Christian nun, I think. She also gave me a bible in Hangul script.”

I added my name and number to her phone. “If you like, you can call me whenever.”

She looked at the number and name, and entered the name in Hangul as well, “아렣큿”.

“Kamsahamnida, Alex Watts.”

“You’re very welcome, Kim Soon-ja. I hope you call soon.”

A few days later, she called. We spent a long afternoon in the park, where she explained all the spirits of the stones, trees, plants, animals, and the pond. Her English seemed to have improved in a dramatic fashion.

She captivated me with her explanations of how the spirits lived, communicated, and made themselves known. Then she looked at the runners passing through the park on the trail.

“The runners,” she said, “are so focused on the physical world that they’ve ignored their spirit. It’s been beaten down to an ash. Not like you. Your spirit is still rich and alive.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I knew it when you first approached me. You shine with a warm aura. That’s how I knew I could trust you.”

“Thanks for thinking so highly of me,” I said, “but really, I’m just trying to be a friend to someone who seemed in need of one.”

“Exactly what I would expect you to say.”

“Your English was good before, but you’ve improved a lot in the last few days. What’s your secret?”

“Immersion. When we met, I’d only been here a week. I learned to read English yesterday, too, so you won’t have to read menus to me.” She watched the geese on the pond. “I mean, if we were ever somewhere with a menu again.”

“You seemed to be homesick when I met you. That’s a short time in which to feel such longing.”

“I’ve been traveling for two years now, tracking down the relic. It’s a relief to be so close.” Her eyes held the expression of a caged animal looking out to the wilderness.

“Did you sell flowers today?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. The wild roses have started to bloom, and they are popular. They’re not real wild roses, though. They’re hybrids that birds have seeded in the wilderness. I found twenty-four and sold them all.”

“Nice. How much did you make?”

“Twelve dollars.”

“Soon-ja, that’s not enough. You could charge a lot more.”

She put her hand on my arm. “I know you’re concerned about me, but I will do things my way. In two more moons I will have enough to buy the relic and will have fulfilled my meat fast.”

“What does the relic look like?” I knew there were a limited number of antiques shops in the area, and there was something about her that made want to help.

That dangerous flash showed behind her eyes again. “If I tell you, you’ll go find it and buy it for me. I know you want to help, Alex Watts, but it can’t be rushed.”

I nodded. “Okay, Kim Soon-ja. I defer to your wishes.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes turned warm again.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. We got to the point where I was spending every waking minute I could with her. She wouldn’t let me buy out her flowers, but she would let me stand with her and talk while she sold them.

I took her out to eat several more times, and even dancing one night. It seemed like she always wore the same outfit, but I figured it must be several identical outfits, since it was always immaculate when we met up, even when the last time I’d seen her the previous day she had grass stains from rolling around in the park. We only did that a couple times…well, maybe four or five times…but it was worth it to hear her laughter.

It was early on a Saturday morning that she called. She sounded nervous. “Alex, come with me to get my relic back?”

“Sure. What time and where should I meet you?”

“Now. I’m waiting at your door.”

I’d told her where I lived when she’d asked weeks earlier but hadn’t expected her to show up. “I—I’ll get dressed and be right out.”

We took a cab to the edge of the city where a rundown antiques store offered questionable goods amidst the graffiti on the surrounding buildings. I followed her in, and she went straight to the back of the store and lifted a small stone sculpture of a fox.

She carried it gently to the counter and set it down with care before counting out three-hundred dollars. The man behind the counter looked at the relic, and at Soon-ja.

“Maybe I shouldn’t sell this,” he said, reaching for it.

Soon-ja growled an inhuman sound, and her eyes flashed something feral and frightening. For a moment, I thought I saw fangs. He must have seen it too, as he recoiled back and put his hands up. “Just joking,” he said.

He snatched the money and counted it, before putting a fifty back on the counter. “Since you like it so much, I—I’ll give you a discount.”

She ignored the fifty and cradled the relic. I picked up her change and led her out of the store. Once we were back in the full light of day, she seemed to calm down. “Thank you. If you hadn’t been by my side, I might have done something I regret,” she said.

I called for a cab. “Where are you staying? I wouldn’t want you to lose that now that you have it.”

“If you could just take me to the airport,” she said, “I will fly back to Seoul tonight and return to my temple tomorrow. The last full moon I must endure is almost here, so this needs to be returned by then.”

I stared at her, gape-mouthed. “You—you’re leaving, just like that?”

“I must,” she said, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. If I don’t restore the temple before the full moon, the last hundred years have been wasted, and I’ll get no further chances.”

“What about your luggage? Anything to pick up?”

“Everything I own is what you see,” she said.

I’d decided before I realized it. “I need to swing by my place first, pack an overnight bag, and grab my passport. I’ll try for a tourist e-visa on the way to the airport.”

“It…hurts,” she said, clutching her stomach. “The thought that I have to leave you hurts down here.”

“It hurts me too,” I said, “which is why I’m going to try my damndest to go with you.”

We got to the airport with plenty of time to spare, but her flight was full. My e-visa was approved, so I booked the next available seat on a flight to Incheon Airport in Seoul.

“I’ll wait for you there,” she said.

“It’ll be twelve hours. I don’t want you to be late to your temple. You could give me directions and I’ll meet you there.”

She brushed a light hand on my cheek. “I won’t be late. I have the whole day. I’ll wait for you.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

As my flight took off, I estimated hers was landing or had just landed. The separation from her felt immense. There were a couple days every few weeks where she’d been too busy to meet up, but even then, it didn’t feel so insurmountable.

It surprised me to be awakened by the flight attendant to prepare for landing. The soda I’d gotten just after lift-off was still there, watered down by the melted ice. I gulped down the flat, tepid drink, put the empty cup in the trash bag she carried, and raised the tray.

After customs, I stepped out into the main atrium, and my heart sank. This made LAX seem quaint. There was no way I’d find her here.

I took out my phone and turned it on. No connection. I’d need a Korean SIM card for that, and my number would be different. At a loss as to where to go, I went outside to the taxi stand.

She appeared out of the crowd and rushed toward me to give me a hug. “I knew you’d find me,” she said.

“I think you found me. I feel a little lost.”

“Let’s go. I’ll show you my temple.” She led me into a cab and had a long discussion with the driver before we took off.

Soon-ja took my hand. She took my focus so completely that it felt like only minutes before the taxi stopped next to a footpath on the dirt road that disappeared over the horizon toward the city.

Holding hands, we walked down the footpath for almost an hour, the late afternoon sun settling lower on the horizon.

I could hear the burbling of a stream nearby, and she stopped. The path wavered in front of me, the trees disappeared, and we stood in a clearing where a small shrine sat next a large spring.

The energy of the place was overwhelming, and it felt like Soon-ja’s hug, only bigger.

With great reverence, she placed the stone fox on a small shelf in the shrine and let out a huge sigh. Her back was still toward me, but I could tell she was tense.

“What is it, Soon-ja? What’s wrong?”

“The full moon. It comes tonight, the last part of the test.”

“I’m here for you,” I said. I looked at the cot in the corner of the shrine. “If it’s not okay for me to sleep here, I can sleep on the path and wait for morning. Whatever you prefer.”

“No. You must sleep here.” She pointed at the bed.

“Where will you sleep?” I asked.

“I will not sleep tonight.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am sure, Alex Watts.” She pulled a band of cloth out from beneath the bed. “You must not take this off tonight. You must not look at me again before the sun comes up. Promise.”

I figured it had something to do with her thinking she was a kumiho, and it wasn’t time to get into that. “Okay, Soon-ja, I promise.”

She tied the blindfold and I lay down on the cot. I heard her washing in the spring, and I felt the night grow cool around me. Then all was silent.

The pad of small feet, the snuffling of a dog, a whimper, the scent of musk on the air. I felt the air as a dog-like nose sniffed at my hand, then the warm, wet nose nudged my hand up.

I petted gently, the animal pulling closer and making a purring, whining sound. The pointed ears and soft fur felt foxlike, but it was too large to be a fox. The animal squeezed onto the cot, laying partly on top of me, and licked my face. It whimpered again.

I don’t know how I knew, but I did. “Shh, Soon-ja,” I said, “I’m here.” I petted her fur from nose to the many tails she had. “I’m here, and I’m not going to run away.” I felt awful for having doubted her.

She calmed, making a purring-like sound.

“I bet you’re beautiful like this. I wish I could see you.”

She whimpered and placed a paw on the blindfold. “I’m not going to look. I promised.”

I began to drift off, her warm weight and soft fur putting me to sleep. I had to say something before the moment was gone, though. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

She licked my cheek once and then settled back down.

The sun felt warm on my skin in the morning, and I heard Soon-ja in the spring. I sat up without removing the blindfold.

“You can take it off now,” she said.

I took it off. She stood naked in the spring, fox ears sprouting from her head, and nine fox tails swirling behind her. “You—you’re beautiful. But…this must mean it didn’t work.”

“It worked,” she said. “It’s fading now, and I wanted to show you who I was before it was all gone.”

“You’re sure it worked?”

“I’m sure. The water’s cold! It’s wonderful.” She waved me in. “You should join me.”

I joined her for a quick wash, the water was cold, then we lay out in the sun to dry off and warm up. “Will you still guard the shrine?”

“No, I’m a human now, so I have to leave when my tails disappear.”

“Where will you go?” I asked.

“Anywhere you are,” she answered.