Amara was ready.
When Hoon began to explain the 72-hour ritual, Amara quietly interjected.
“I know.”
Hoon stopped.
“How do you know?”
Amara said.
“My grandmother was a healer. I trained for a long time, too. Fasting. Breathing. It was called by a different name, but it’s the same thing.”
Hoon looked at Amara. It struck him that it was no coincidence that she had come looking for Gong. She said she’d heard rumors—through someone else. The fact that those rumors had reached Amara meant she was already heading in that direction.
“Then I suppose I don’t need an explanation.”
“Just teach me the breathing technique. Your way.”
Hoon sat down. Amara sat down too. Lee Jae-in worked in the distance, occasionally glancing over at them.
Hoon began breathing. Amara followed suit. The rhythm was off for the first few times. Then it fell into sync. Naturally. Hoon could feel it. It seemed as though Amara’s body already knew this rhythm.
Thirty minutes passed.
Hoon opened his eyes. Amara still had her eyes closed. Her expression was serene. There was no tension. It was different from when Lee Jae-in first sat down. Lee Jae-in had been stiff. Amara seemed to already be at ease.
“Shall we begin?”
Amara said without opening her eyes.
“It’s already started.”
* * *
[ Amara’s Hallucination — Part One, 8 Hours ]
It was a river.
A river in Senegal. The river that flowed beside the village where Amara grew up as a child. It overflowed during the rainy season and narrowed during the dry season. Amara drew water from that river. From the age of ten. Twice a day. Carrying a large jar on her head.
Her grandmother was sitting by the riverbank.
Grandmother Yager. The village healer. The one who taught Amara everything. She had small hands and a soft voice. She always sat in the same spot, looking at the river. She was always there whenever Amara came to fetch water.
Amara approached.
Grandmother turned around. She smiled. It was the same smile Amara had seen when she was a child. A smile that made her eyes grow small on her wrinkled face.
“You’re here.”
“Grandma.”
Grandmother Yager passed away seven years ago. It was back when Amara was working for an NGO in Dakar. She wasn’t able to be by her side when she passed.
It took three days after receiving the call before she could make it back to the village. That was when she saw the empty chair. The chair by the river where Grandmother always sat was empty.
Now, Grandma was sitting in that chair.
“Sit down.”
Amara sat down beside her. She looked at the river. The river flowed. There was a sound. The sound of water. A sound Amara had heard for fifty years.
Grandmother spoke.
“Are you hungry?”
Amara thought.
"No."
Grandma nodded.
"Right. That’s how it should be."
That was all. Grandma and Amara just looked at the river. There was no conversation. The silence wasn’t painful. If anything, it felt like something they had been waiting for a long time.
She didn’t know how much time had passed.
Grandma stood up.
“I think I should go.”
Amara said.
“Grandma.”
Grandma turned around.
“I’ll be where you go. Don’t worry.”
And she walked away. Toward the river. As she walked, she stepped into the water. But she didn’t get wet. She just disappeared into the river.
Amara watched this and did not cry.
Strangely enough.
* * *
Amara’s 72 hours were different from Lee Jae-in’s.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She didn’t even try to stand up. She just sat there and let it pass. Occasionally, her expression changed. An expression as if she were seeing something. An expression as if she were hearing something.
Hoon watched her and wondered if Amara was familiar with this process.
Under a different name, in a different way, Amara was someone who had already crossed back and forth near this boundary.
At dawn on the third day, Amara opened her eyes.
Quietly. Completely.
Hoon saw her. Amara slowly looked around. The basin. The sky. The stars. Hoon.
And she said.
“I saw Grandma.”
Hoon listened in silence.
“I hadn’t seen her in seven years. She was sitting by the river. Just like she used to be.”
There was a moment of silence.
Amara continued.
"She asked me if I was hungry."
Hoon asked.
"What did you say?"
“I said no.”
“And then what happened?”
Amara seemed to relive that memory for a moment.
“‘That’s how it should be,’ she said.”
Hoon heard those words.
"That’s right."
Grandmother Yager probably didn’t know. Whether she should have said those words before she died. Or if they were words spoken within this hallucination. It didn’t matter.
What mattered was that Amara’s awakening had been sealed by her grandmother’s words.
Amara looked up at the sky.
There were many stars. It was the dawn sky over the Caraballo Mountains. It was the sky of a place without light.
“I’m not hungry.”
Amara said. As if to confirm.
“Yes.”
“Will this keep going?”
“It will.”
Amara nodded. Then she stood up. Slowly. Her legs trembled slightly, just as Lee Jae-in’s had.
But she didn’t fall.
* * *
Morning came.
Lee Jae-in woke up early and started working. Amara walked slowly through the basin. Hoon watched her. It was the gait of someone who had just awakened. Slow, but precise.
The way his feet touched the ground was different. It wasn’t cautious. It was a gait that felt the ground.
Amara walked over to where Lee Jae-in was working.
Lee Jae-in spoke without stopping.
“Are you done?”
Amara replied.
“Yes.”
Lee Jae-in glanced at Amara for a moment. It was a look of confirmation. Then he went back to work.
“Can you give me a hand?”
Amara asked. Lee Jae-in handed her a shovel.
Amara took it. Then she began digging.
At first, she was clumsy. He wasn’t used to digging. Lee Jae-in watched for a moment and said,
“Press down with your foot. It’s hard if you just use your arms.”
Amara followed his advice. The soil came out more easily.
The two dug side by side. They said nothing. They just worked.
Hoon watched them from a distance.
A Korean man and a Senegalese woman were digging in the Philippine soil side by side. They couldn’t communicate well. But the work spoke for itself.
That was enough.
There were now three of them.