8. Ghost (1) The Dead Reindeer

What went wrong? Due to the intensifying cold, I pulled the hood of my jumper over my head and tightened the drawstring. I couldn't just stand still. Running towards the last streetlight in the distance, I shone my light towards the sea of darkness, hoping to find something moving, be it a boat or a person.

Just a few meters before reaching the last streetlight, I heard the sound of a car from afar. Instinctively, I hid outside the light of the streetlamp. Only 2 minutes remained. A person got out of a navy blue pickup truck and took a backpack from the passenger seat. It was the foreigner I had seen inside the log house. He looked somewhat different with his short hair tied back, but it was definitely him. However, he was running towards the land, not the pier. Why, when he needed to catch a boat? I followed him nonetheless.

Soon, a huge warehouse appeared, resembling an airplane hangar. It was a building hidden in the darkness, invisible from the pier. The grey exterior of the building had an entrance about 3 meters wide in the very center. The white shutter was halfway down, with light pouring out from underneath. The man bent down to enter the place.

Only a minute was left until 1 PM. I was so out of breath from running that I felt like I could fall forward at any moment. Then, the shutter on the door began to slowly descend. I thought this light might be my last hope of finding Sun-woo. There was no time to hesitate or ponder; I sprinted towards the door with all my might. Fortunately, I managed to get through the door before the shutter completely closed.

Catching my breath, I stopped to comprehend the scene before me. In the center of the warehouse, the size of a soccer field, was a rectangular body of water filled like a swimming pool. A purple submarine was half-submerged in it, with a rounded conning tower and a long periscope sticking out like sails. It seemed to be about 50 meters long. By its color and the railing on the part of the hull that was above water, it looked like it was originally used for tourism.

The man went towards the rear hatch of the submarine via a boarding bridge connected to the ground. I waited until he disappeared before following him into the submarine. Descending the stairs backward, holding onto the railing, I saw two passageways ahead. Both were symmetric spaces surrounded by lavender-colored walls. I heard the man's footsteps from the left corridor. I had to make a choice to avoid encountering anyone.

In the right corridor, lemon-colored stainless steel seats were lined up facing the round portholes on the wall. The overhead lights made the color of the seats shine even brighter. I walked past more than thirty seats to choose one at the very end. Underwater lighting outside the porthole illuminated the sea, revealing indistinct shapes that appeared and disappeared. Inside and outside the submarine, an awkward contrast was formed by the porthole as a boundary.

Wary of someone entering, I glanced towards the entrance until I heard the hatch close, allowing me to relax. Only then did I secure myself with the belt.

An announcement in English came from the speaker on the ceiling.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am your captain. Our submarine will depart shortly, at 1:05 PM. Please ensure all personal belongings are securely stored and remain seated with your seatbelt fastened. Have a pleasant journey. Thank you."

The submarine began to descend into the sea. The depth gauge's numbers slowly increased. There was no vibration or noise. Only the dead seaweeds floating outside the porthole became more visible. Things that must have been beautiful once. The sea water would have had a blue hue, enriched with light, and colorful life forms would have swum in their own universe, dancing around.

As the submarine moved forward, my body slightly leaned backward. The underwater lighting turned off, and the brightness of the interior lights dimmed. It was so dark outside the window that it felt as if we were in space. The depth gauge indicated around 150 meters.

The surroundings gradually warmed up.

A sense of warmth, combined with a self-defense mechanism to avoid extreme fear in uncertain situations, made it feel like everything would go smoothly. Just as I had been able to enter the submarine without any issues, I hoped for just that level of smoothness going forward. I took out a bundle of papers from my pocket. They were crumpled and soggy, but Sun-woo's handwriting was legible. The impressions left by the pen pressing against the paper were clearly embossed. It seemed to be a diary. I traced each letter with my fingertips, imagining Sun-woo writing these words.

< November 29, 2053, Saturday >

Yesterday, while sitting on the platform at Vanta Airport, a middle-aged gentleman approached me and started speaking in English. He had a handsome beard on his chin and nose. He mentioned he had a poem he wanted to share with me, claiming it was from a long time ago. It was in Icelandic, so without a translator, I couldn't understand. But his voice was so nice that I asked him to recite it again and recorded it. I translated it today.

"Do not seek the reason for the never-ending night in you. Do not blame yourself when darkness brings deeper darkness. Even in the thickest night, eyes are white, and ice remains clear. So, you with unmelting eyes, On days when darkness frightens you, come meet the angels in white. Sinners will be buried in the ice mountain, So dance with the angels on the snow."

That was the poem, and I recorded what he said next, It seemed to be around the time he smiled and put his hand on my shoulder.

"People deeply engraved in memory will eventually meet. So, do not assert that there is nothing after death."

I laughed without understanding, saving the recording, but the gentleman had disappeared. I must tell Hee-jae about this.

***

< November 30, 2053, Sunday >

Everything here is made of wood. Whether it's been cut or not, it keeps talking to me whenever our eyes meet. About today's temperature and humidity, what the wind brought, and how much the scant sunlight felt neglected... Next to the house is a small sauna made of cedar. When I pour water on the hot stones inside, steam rises. It's peaceful and purifying. A local told me that the word sauna is Finnish. Shocking.

< December 1, 2053, Monday >

Winter in Finland is less cold but much darker than in Korea. There's a vodka called Koskenkorva at the accommodation. It's good for warming up and also for distinguishing between day and night. It's clean and nutty. As you drink, the face of someone you miss appears more clearly than when sober. Let's not drink more than half a glass. It's strong.

< December 2, 2053, Tuesday >

I still feel like there's a ghost hiding behind the curtain. Damn ghosts keep talking to me. The cruelest words I've ever heard are now voiced in a dreadful tone. Those voices probably live on without any guilt, don't they? I know they mean nothing to my life anymore. But I can't draw the curtains. It feels like they'll torment me cruelly again. I went to the hospital on my own and have been receiving counseling for a long time, but it still overwhelms me occasionally. If the murderer of my father is caught, maybe things will get better. Will that happen in my lifetime?

< December 3, 2053, Wednesday >

Last night, after drinking two glasses of Koskenkorva, I lay down and heard a dull thud outside. When I went out, I found a reindeer dead. I brought a light and saw blood flowing from its head into its eyes. One of its horns was broken and stuck in the snow. It made a strange noise, probably in pain. I'm not sure what caused it. If it was hit by a car, that car wouldn't have been fine either... But there were no tire tracks or signs of a car nearby. I took the blanket I use to cover myself at the accommodation and covered the reindeer with it. There was nothing else I could do for it as it died too quickly. The white blanket soaked with blood, the body twitched, and then the breathing stopped. I thought I should clean up the corpse when it was a bit lighter and went back inside. I fell asleep in front of the fireplace because there was no blanket. But when I woke up today, I was lying on the bed, covered with a clean white blanket... The reindeer outside was gone, and there was no blood on the snow. But the Koskenkorva I thought I had finished drinking was still there. What? Did I drink too much? Or did the world briefly go awry?

< December 4, 2053, Thursday >

Finally, I'm going to Pimeys tomorrow. Pimeys, in Finnish, means darkness. Going on a road of no return is ordinary. I've passed through irrevocable times without regret, so let's not look too far and just focus on the here and now.

***

Sun-woo called me to Pimeys Port from the beginning. I couldn't help but laugh. After wandering through foggy paths, I realized I had indeed arrived at the right place.