There is a small farm village located up in the mountains about an hour's drive due north of the Daegu Opera House. My parents-in-law used to live in the village in a small, four-room house located on the southern edge of the cluster of houses. After Dad's passing, Mom stayed on for three or four more years, spending the coldest months with us down in the city, but maintaining her residence and independence at the mountain house most of the time. Just over three years ago, she gave in (not up) and grudgingly agreed to live with us on a full-time basis. Her presence has enriched our lives and I think she is happy to be with us, although I've never drummed up the courage to ask her.
Late one evening, a few days before last Christmas, Mom called my wife into her room and whispered to her confidentially that she had just remembered hiding a goodly amount of money behind her bedroom dresser at the mountain house. Needless to say, my wife was surprised and asked her mother why she had waited so long to tell her such a thing. "I just remembered it in my dream," she explained.
Okay.
She described in detail the exact location of the hiding place, the color of the wallet she used, and the amount, about 350,000 won, she had deposited therein. On the strength of her convictions we decided to undertake an expedition to the mountain house.
On the next Saturday, after completing our weekend chores, at 10:00 p.m., we loaded our gear into the little gray car and left for the mountain house. Our gear consisted of one powerful flashlight, gloves, and a sack of fresh oranges, just in case. I wished for a loaded pistol or at least a gleaming cutlass that would flash in the moonlight, but those faithful companions in my days of yore had long-since forsaken me for more adventuresome cohorts with worthier pursuits. There wasn't any moonlight that night anyway.
On the way, we stopped off in Daegu to pick up my wife's sister and the three of us proceeded to our mountain destination. At midnight exactly, we pulled up in what passed for a driveway and climbed out of the car. There was not a light to be seen anywhere, the skies were crystal clear and it was cold and silent. In places where the sun could not reach, the ground was covered in snow and the barren spots reached by the afternoon sun were ankle-deep in frozen mud and slush.
I hoped we wouldn't awaken the dogs that all country folk keep to watch out for intruding, suspicious strangers, just like us. I must admit, it was exciting.
We gained entrance to the house through the unlocked front door and turned right, through the living room and into the bedroom. The chifforobe and dresser were standing on the left wall, just as Mom had described. I held the light while my wife and her sister ripped off the wallpaper and pulled up the linoleum to find exactly nothing. We moved the large chifforobe and scrambled behind it in the oppisite corner. Nothing. I tilted the chifforobe and the ladies looked underneath with the same results, and after an hour or so, declared our trip a failure. It was a small room and the three of us had searched enough. There was no hidden wallet with 350,000 won inside.
At 1:00 a.m. we climbed back into the car and I cranked the engine. After about twenty minutes we reached the major highway and I noticed in my rearview mirror the ladies smiling and giggling in the back seat. It just occurred to me that my wife never rides in the back seat when I'm driving. What was she doing back there having such a good time?
At my inquiry she answered, "We're counting up the money!" "What money?" I asked. "Did you fine the wallet when I wasn't looking?"
"Of course not," she answered. "It's the money we brought with us." I didn't understand. She continued, "We didn't really believe we'd find anything, so we brought 350,000 won in old bills to give to Mom when we get back. So she won't be disappointed."
As politely as I could, I suggested that Mom was old enough to be told the truth, and that we had made this trip for nothing, and the 350,000 thou they were counting so gleefully, probably belonged to me. (I didn't actually say that last part, but I thought it, for sure.) I kept my mouth shut during the rest of the trip and arrived at our place in Gyeongsan at 3:00 a.m. I went in and went straight to bed and my wife told Mom, who was in bed but wide awake, that we found the money exactly where she said it was. Mom was ecstatic and it was only with some difficulty and promises to count the money in the morning that my wife was able to convince Mom to stay in bed and go back to sleep.
I awoke at sunup that morning and sat in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and planned my schedule for the day. Mom marched in after a few minutes with a huge grin on her face and I knew instantly that her two daughters had done the right thing. When my wife joined us, she explained that Mom wanted to give her grandchildren some cash and that she would take all of us out to eat in the very near future. After that, with all the money left over, she wanted to finance a trip to Yeongdeok, on the East Sea, and eat crabs.
A couple of days later, I noticed a 10,000 won note lying on the breakfast table in the kitchen.
"Mom," I called out, "Is this your money?"
She came into the room, and with a sweet smile, picked up the bill and put it in my shirt pocket. My wife translated, "Mom wants to give you this for driving all the way to her house this past weekend and bringing home the money she had hidden."
"I was glad to do it," I declared, "It was a trip I'll never forget." And I won't.
What goes around, comes around, and sometimes things work out just right.
Merry Christmas.
