It was a small building, but compared to the log cabin where Franz lived, it looked like a palace with a red roof.
On either side of the main building—tall and elongated—were three annexes with small windows.
Late at night, Soo-hyun, standing in front of that empty building, saw letters inscribed above the entrance:
[Interlaken East]
But he could not read them.
Without realizing it, he looked back.
"Uncle Franz?"
He remembered opening the door clearly, coming out... But before he could take a few steps, the river behind him was gone.
Suddenly, fear enveloped him. Tears welled up in his eyes again, but he wiped them quickly, fearing that someone might be watching.
"Uncle Franz... where are you?"
With difficulty, he managed to move his stiff legs and advanced a few more steps... but there was no sign of anyone. Only empty.
Soo-hyun, his eyes wide open and his neck shrunk, was startled at the sight of movement in the distance.
In a space flanked by long gray columns, photos of many people hung. At his feet, a large number of flowers were piling up.
There, someone bent down to pick up some that had fallen to the ground.
'Will it be Franz? Or Frédéric?'
Frightened, but knowing that that was better than loneliness, Soo-hyun began to walk cautiously towards the figure.
He was a man. He was dressed in a black uniform. Judging by his gray hair, he looked like a grandfather.
The old man, still bent over, looked up as if he had sensed his presence.
"What's your name?"
I could talk to Franz and Frédéric, but I didn't understand what that grandfather was saying. He only spoke in his language.
Soo-hyun stared at him.
It was understandable: it was the first time in a year that I had seen someone like that.
Grandpa came over with a container full of flowers. She knelt in front of him and looked him straight in the eye.
"Was machst du hier so spät? Woher kommst du? "What are you doing here so late? Where do you come from? Where are your parents?"
But... There was something on his face. Something familiar. Where had I seen him before?
Ah! On that train I traveled on with my parents! This grandfather was the one who picked up the tickets at the station! It was that face that smiled at me and said I was adorable!
Grandpa also cocked his head as he watched him. It seemed that he remembered it too.
And then, suddenly, he raised his head... and his eyes filled with amazement.
He turned quickly to one of the gray pillars.
Soo-hyun followed the direction of his gaze.
And when I saw her... he was paralyzed.
Among the many photographs hung there, there was one in the center. Mum. Dad. And him. Underneath, a pile of white flowers.
"Das bist du! Bist du nicht der Junge, der vor einem Jahr bei einem Zugunglück verschwunden ist?" "It's you! Aren't you the boy who disappeared a year ago in a train accident?"He heard that scream that he did not understand... But Soo-hyun only saw the photo. That photo I hadn't seen for so long, so long.
He ran up to her, climbed one foot on the pedestal, and looked closely at her.
Mom and Dad were smiling, beaming.
And in the photo... He was smiling too.
"Why is there a picture of our family here...?"
The grandfather, who until then had been watching Soo-hyun with his mouth half-open, suddenly ran to a nearby office, shouting:
"Der vermisste Junge ist zurück! Rufen Sie schnell die Behörden an – das Kind muss geschützt werden!" "The missing child is back! Call the authorities quickly — he must be protected!"
Soo-hyun turned his head, startled by the screams, and watched him run back towards him, palms outstretched as if asking him to stay where he was. He seemed to be going to make an urgent call.
Soo-hyun looked at the family photo again... and his eyes fell on the flowers arranged just below.
Why are there flowers here?
But something else peeked out between them: a sheet of gray paper.
Ah... it is the newspaper. The same one that Dad read every morning.
Carefully, he pushed the flowers aside, picked up the newspaper, and held it in his hands. He was Korean. Luckily, even though I hadn't used it in a while, I still remembered how to read Hangul.
"In the train accident in Jungfrau, Switzerland, in December 2019, 87 of the 88 passengers died. The 7-year-old boy Nam Soo-hyun is still missing..."
Death. What does death mean? What's missing? My name is Nam Soo-hyun...
As his eyes went over the letters, he noticed a yellow note taped to the margin. Someone, possibly Korean, had written about her:
"To Soo-hyun's family: I am deeply sorry for your departure. May they rest in peace in heaven..."
Soo-hyun dropped the newspaper. His fingers were trembling.
Death... Are Mom and Dad dead?
My legs weakened and my whole body began to shake.
"No... no way! Dad said he'd come pick me up! Even now, like in the park... I play with him to make me strong, like a man!"
"Dad... Mama can't be dead! Oh, no! Dad! Get out now! Make this stop! I'm scared!"
His whole body trembled like a poplar.
At that moment, the old man appeared running with a phone in his hand and shouted, extending it to him:
"Koreanische Botschaft! Rufen Sie an!"
Without warning, the grandfather placed the cell phone to his ear.
Soo-hyun, stunned, with a blank stare, heard an urgent voice... a woman's voice... In Korean:
[Hello! Nam Soo-hyun? Are you there? This is the Korean Embassy!]
"...."
「Hello! Soo-hyun! Is it really you?]
"...Who are you?"
「Oh my God, he's Korean! Is your real name Nam Soo-hyun?]
"Yes."
[Wow, it's true! Soo-hyun! Are you at Interlaken station? I'm going right now! I only need an hour! Can you stay with that gentleman just one hour? I'm coming like the wind!]
"...Where are my mom and dad?"
[… …]
"Does the word 'death' mean that... Did they die? That they went to a place where they can never be seen again, like the old man downstairs, sister?"
[… … Soo-hyun... that's...]
"… Please tell me."
[Yes... that's right. But don't worry, okay? The Swiss government will take care of you. They are already managing all the compensation for the accident... everything is going to be fine, Soo-hyun." Soo-hyun took the phone out of his ear and handed it back to the old man.]
He could still hear the energetic voice on the other end, and the pale-faced grandfather nodded repeatedly, gesturing for the boy to stay with him.
But Soo-hyun lowered his head and looked at his own feet. Tears fell relentlessly down his face.
After hanging up, Grandpa looked at him regretfully. He bent down and stroked her cheek with his wrinkled hand.
"Ich gebe dir warmen Kakao. Ist es nicht kalt? Lass uns reingehen und warten." "I'll make you a hot cocoa. Not cold? Let's go inside and wait."
The old man, speaking in a language that Soo-hyun didn't understand, tried to guide him towards the office. But the boy, his head still down, clung tightly to the spot.
Grandfather saw tears slide from that face to the ground, one after another, without stopping. His own nose began to itch, and his eyes moistened to the verge of tears. He coughed uselessly to hide it.
As he ran back to the office to boil water—thinking that perhaps cocoa would do him good—he kept looking out the window. His eyes, restless, were looking for that child who was still out there, bent in front of the monument.
The grandfather, who had worked for more than thirty years at Interlaken station, clicked his tongue at the sight of him:
"How is he going to put up with something like that, as small as it is? Surely you have just found out that your parents... they are no longer there. What can you do for someone just... and so sad?"
Then the office phone rang loudly.
Several institutions called in a chain to confirm that the Korean Embassy had already officially notified the Swiss government about the situation.
"This is already the eighth time I've received a call from someone saying that it will arrive urgently..."
Looking again at the ringing phone, the old man sighed and replied:
"Yes, the control center of Interlaken Ost station speaks."
[Hello! I am Kim Ji-ye, from the Korean Embassy. I've talked to you before. Is Su-hyeon still there? We will arrive in about twenty minutes.]
Grandpa shot a glance at Soo-hyun, who was still trembling in front of the monument, and replied:
"Yes, it's still here. It's cold outside, so I was going to make him a hot chocolate, but the phone won't stop ringing, and I haven't been able to give it to him. Hey! Wait a minute!"
"Yes? What's wrong?"
"Where... Where does the child seem to be going?"
The old man craned his neck to look beyond the window frame, and when Soo-hyun disappeared from his sight, he finally opened the window and poked his head out.
He was relieved to see him open the door of the building and returned to the phone.
"Oh, he went to the bathroom. I'm keeping an eye on him."
"Please! You have to hold it until we get there!"
"Yes, I made sure he got into the bathroom, so I'll wait for him at the door and take him back to the office warm when he comes out. Don't worry."
Grandfather spoke confidently... But even twenty minutes later, when the embassy staff arrived, Soo-hyun still didn't come out of the bathroom.
When he finally dared to open the bathroom door and enter... he only found an empty bathroom.
Swiss government officials began to arrive one after another, and soon scattered in all directions looking for Soo-hyun. But they found no trace of him.
✴︎✴︎✴︎
It was from that same day that Soo-hyun turned completely to playing.
He increased his practice hours from three to more than six a day, to the point of collapsing from exhaustion for several days.
Franz and Frédéric tried to stop him, but he was obstinate.
I'm afraid that if I stop playing even for a moment, tears will escape me.
One afternoon, while he was practicing as usual, Frédéric—standing behind him, his arms crossed—put a hand on his shoulder. The sound of the piano stopped.
"Soohyun."
"Yes."
"You don't sing to me lately anymore."
"..."
"Don't you feel like singing anymore?"
"No. Not really."
"Did something happen?"
"..."
Frédéric did not rush it. He gave him time. Waited.
Soo-hyun, still with his hands on the keys and his gaze fixed on the score, finally replied in a low voice:
"I just want to focus on playing."
"It's okay. It is a valid position. Do you have any questions?"
"Yes. For a while now, I've been curious... In addition to practice pieces, sometimes you give me sheet music that the old people played."
"Yes."
"If you look at the title of that song, it says something like Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 8, No. 2, RV 315. Why is it called that?"
"Good question. Let me explain," Frédéric replied, as he rummaged through the sheet music stacked on the piano, until he found the one Soo-hyun had mentioned.
"At the beginning the form of the piece is described: if it is a symphony, a minuet, a sonata... In this case it is a concert. Then comes Op. 8, which indicates that it is part of the composer's eighth published work. No . 2 indicates that it is the second piece in that collection. And finally, the key: G minor."
"And the RV 315 at the end?"
"That is indicated by the Ryom-Verzeichnis catalogue, which organizes all of Vivaldi's works. It is number 315."
"Vivaldi? The one you mentioned before? Is the 'RV' because of him?"
"That's right. Each composer has his system. Mozart uses K, Beethoven uses WoO for his works without opus number, Schubert uses D, Bach uses BWV, Haydn Hob., and Handel HWV."
"And you, sir?"
"Me? Well, in my publications I only use Op. Nothing so elaborate."
"And Uncle Franz?"
"That guy uses S for his catalog. Pretty practical, actually."
"That's great."
"You will also be able to wear one, someday."
Soo-hyun nodded silently, then looked up at Frédéric.
"Sir."
"Is Uncle Franz still trying to figure out how to get me back?"
"Of course I do! Because we promised you. And we are going to fulfill that promise, without a doubt. So don't worry. I'll make sure you see your parents again."
Soo-hyun's gaze avoided Frédéric's confident face. He looked down slowly, until his eyes were fixed on the ground.