There in the distance stood Dora. The wind swept her hair to the left. Long and shiny hair, each strand as thick as string. She slowed down but I kept up my pace, so eventually we drew close. We had talked a few times before, but I had never seen her so up close. A few freckles sprinkled her fair complexion and her eyes were squinting to avoid the wind, revealing a small double eyelid. When her eyes met mine, they grew wide.
Suddenly, the wind changed course. Dora’s hair slowly changed direction too, whipping over to the opposite side. The breeze carried her scent to my nose. It was a scent I hadn’t smelled before. It smelled like fallen leaves, or the first buds in spring. The kind of smell that evoked contrary images all at once. I continued to walk forward. Our faces were an inch apart now. Her hair flapped in my face. Ah, I moaned. It prickled. A heavy rock dropped down in my heart. An unpleasant weight.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay,” I said. The words, half stuck in my chest, came out in a croak. The wind pushed me hard. To resist it, I started walking faster than I had before.
*
That night I couldn’t sleep. Scenes kept replaying in my head like hallucinations. The waving trees, the colorful leaves, and Dora standing there, yielding to the wind.
I got up and absently walked along the bookshelves. I took out a dictionary and searched it through. But I had no idea what word I was looking for. My body was burning. My pulse beat so loud right below my ears. I could hear my pulse even in the tips of my fingers and toes, which tingled as if bugs were crawling all over my body. It wasn’t very pleasant. My head hurt and I felt dizzy. Yet I kept thinking back to that moment. The moment when her hair touched my face. The scent and the warmth of the air between us. I drifted off to sleep only at daybreak when the sky turned sapphire.
56
My fever came down by morning. But another bizarre symptom appeared. I went to school and saw the back of someone’s head glowing. It was Dora’s. I turned away. That whole day I felt as if a thorn were pricking my chest.
Gon stopped by the bookstore around sundown. I couldn’t talk to him or even listen to what he was saying.
“Dude, you okay? You look pale.”
“It hurts.”
“What hurts?”
“I don’t know. Everything.”
Gon suggested we eat out but I turned him down. He smacked his lips then disappeared. My body felt heavy as I twisted and turned. I couldn’t tell what was wrong with me. I headed out of the bookstore when I bumped right into Dr. Shim.
“Did you eat?” he asked, and I shook my head no.
We went to a buckwheat noodle place this time. Dr. Shim added that the noodles alone wouldn’t be enough for a growing teen and ordered fried jumbo shrimp too, but I didn’t touch a thing. I shared all the weird changes happening in my body with him as he slowly slurped his noodles. There wasn’t much to tell, but because I was rambling so much, it took twice as long as it should have.
“I took cold medicine. I think I have a cold,” I managed to finish.
Dr. Shim straightened his glasses, his eyes fixed on my shaking legs.
“Well, I think you can explain in more detail.”
“More detail? What do you mean?” I asked, and he grinned.
“Well, I just thought, maybe there were some things you left out because you didn’t know how to accurately express them. How about you take time to go over the details, one at a time? When did you first start having your symptoms? Was there some kind of trigger?”
I narrowed my eyes and tried to think back to how it had all started.
“It was the wind.”
“The wind?” Dr. Shim narrowed his eyes to mirror my expression.
“It’s hard to explain, but will you still hear me out?”
“Of course.”
I took a deep breath and tried to recount the events of the day before with as much detail as possible. Once out loud, my story sounded rather dry and boring—that the wind blew and the leaves fell, and when her hair blew and touched my cheek, I felt as though someone were squeezing my heart. My story had no context; it wouldn’t even qualify as small talk. But as I rambled on, I noticed Dr. Shim’s face soften, and by the time I finished, he had a wide smile on his face. He held out his hand and I took it reflexively. He gave me a firm handshake.
“Congratulations! You’re growing. This is great news.” Beaming, he continued, “How much taller have you gotten since early this year?”
“Three and a half inches.”
“See? That’s a huge growth in such a short time. I’m sure your brain must have drastically changed as well. If I were a neurosurgeon, I would suggest you get an MRI scan and check the progress of your brain.”