The swing tips when he sits down. He is almost as close to me as he was on the airplane, only I had no idea who he was then. Now, now I know. We have a history of sorts, a history that is growing. How far will it grow? How far do I want it to grow?

For several seconds we sit in silence.I wonder if he has someone in his life. Who are they? What does they look like? Are they Korean or American? I know he grew up in the States like me. Of course I don’t ask any of these questions aloud.Hae-inshifts his weight. Gong Yoo curls up between us.A cool breeze travels across my skin.The nearness of Hae-in makes me slightly uneasy. I am not sure why.

Hae-in breaks our silence. “I saw you drawing today. What are you working on?”

“Rocks.”

He chuckles softly and says, “You still do that.”

Yes I still do that. I used to draw rocks when I was secretly (I thought) watching him run on the beach when we were kids. I can’t believe he did noticed my thirteen year old self. I am embarrassed and touched at the same time. Silence settles over us again and then the silence is broken. Like a demon rising from Hell, Gong Yoo leaps off the porch yowling and darts across the yard.

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Hae-in goes after him.

In the bushes I see glowing eyes. A rabbit? A cat?

The front door opens and Auntie Ji An comes out. She hisses, “Gong Yoo get your tiny ass back in the house.”

The little dog stops in mid howl. He looks back. His bulgy eyes reflect the porch light. With his tale between his legs he runs back to the porch. Hae-in follows behind.Auntie Ji An opens the screen and Gong Yoo trots obediently inside. Before she goes into the house she tells us, “Night, you two.” Do I detect a lilt in her voice? The door closes behind her.

Hae-in doesn’t sit down beside me. Is he going back to his granny’s? I realize I don’t want him to. He asks, “Do you still like to swing on swings?”

So, he remembers that too. “Yes.”

“There is a new set at the elementary school where your auntie works. Want to go give them a try?”

I do very much. “Yes.”

Side by side we walk the few blocks to the Wong Son Elementary where Auntie Ji An is a teacher’s aide. Like all the buildings on the island, the school is sturdy and impervious to storms. I see the swings and I am thrilled. The chains are long. I run to one and plop into it. I push my self back as far as I can and begin. Hae-in takes the swing beside me. I pump up and then back getting higher and higher. Hae-in matches my pace. The motion blows my hair back. I stretch out as far as I can and I feel the delicious sensation of reaching the limit of my chains. I fall back and glance sideways. Hae-in is falling with me. Joy like I have not known in months fills me. I am happy.