I wanted to see proof of what Kim Inja, Jihyun’s mother, talked about as a Presence who looks out for me, but—voilà. This brush with death didn’t make me feel protected. Or maybe there is a protective Presence, since I’m not dead, but if the Presence kept me from being run over, he’s a meddling asshole. With eyes open I run, though still limping, across the road. I yell “Echo!” when I reach the bus station on the other side of the street. There is no echo, no response. If I take the bus from here, I will be going farther away from my father’s place. A few people gather, and I hop on the first bus that arrives. I look at the route map. If I get off at the Jagalchi open market, I can transfer to go to Youngdo. I walk all the way to the back seat and sit down. I notice a coin stuck between the seats. I struggle to pull it out. Coin, coin, stuck between the seats, who’s the dumbest of them all? The ten-won coin doesn’t answer. Dear coin, why the fuck am I going to see her now when she isn’t even expecting me and doesn’t seem to care to see me? This early in the morning, no less! It’s not the coin’s fault when it rolls in the direction it’s dropped. It’s my legs that are taking me to Youngdo, not me.

* * *

“Excuse me, is Sinsun San, building 58 somewhere near here?” I ask an old lady passing by. She is holding a worn Bible to her chest so she must be returning from church.

“What?” She asks as if she can’t hear at all. How does she expect to hear the voice of God with those ears? I yell into her ear, “Sinsun District?”

“Yes, this is Sinsun,” she says.

I didn’t even try that hard, but I am right where I should be! I get so happy, I almost tell a lame joke: is it called Sinsun because sinsun (wise spirits) live here? (Har har.)