“Seojin?”
The stillness was broken by the nurse calling my name.
Nurse Lin placed her hand on my forehead and looked into my eyes. Thanks to that, my vision, which had faded except for the piano, returned in an instant.
“You don’t have a fever. Do you feel dizzy?”
“I just spaced out for a moment.”
“While looking at that piano?”
“It suddenly reminded me of the past.”
Nurse Lin chuckled at my response.
“For someone like you, ‘the past’ must be when you were really little. Did you play the piano back then?”
“Yes. And I think… I can still play it now.”
“Think?”
Was it strange that I said “think”? Well, there was nothing I could do. It didn’t feel right to explain everything in detail. It was best to leave it vague like this.
I diverted the conversation by asking where the examination room was again.
Fortunately, Nurse Lin didn’t press me for more details.
We arrived at the ophthalmology department. Even though it was early in the morning, many patients were already sitting on the sofas, waiting.
Luckily, since I had an appointment, it didn’t seem like we’d have to wait long. After all, I wasn’t an outpatient—I was an inpatient. And not just any patient, but a fairly well-known VIP at this hospital.
Well, maybe not that far, but I did feel like I was receiving some special treatment.
Nurse Lin and I found seats on an empty sofa.
But as soon as I sat down, the person next to me poked my shoulder. When I turned around, I saw an elderly woman with a kind expression staring at me intently.
“Of course. It must be that kid.”
It’s already happened several times today alone. Clearly, a lot of people recognize me. I exchanged a brief greeting with the elderly woman.
However, her accent was very unique. Even the English spoken in Singapore is considered quite distinctive, but compared to her pronunciation, it seemed like nothing.
Nurse Lin must have been curious as well, because she asked directly.
“Grandma, are you from Myanmar, by any chance?”
“I’m from a pretty remote area there. I lived for quite a long time on an island so obscure, you wouldn’t even know its name if I told you.”
The conversation between Nurse Lin and the elderly woman, which started like that, went on for quite a while.
The elderly woman, who was from Myanmar, had moved to Singapore in her middle age and started a business.
She had faced difficulties, but had managed to settle down somehow.
Recently, she had gone on a trip to Korea with her grandchild at their invitation.
Which means...
“Grandma, were you also on flight AC 2505?”
Unable to hold back my curiosity, I asked, and the elderly woman nodded.
“Yes. I thought I was going to die, but truly miraculous things happened. Who would have thought that all of us would survive like this?”
“They say it was an extraordinary event.”
“I was so shocked at the time that I fainted immediately. But apparently, someone put an oxygen mask on me. I heard from the rescue team that I survived thanks to that.”
“Maybe your grandson helped you.”
“Perhaps. But if not...”
The elderly woman then began to tell a story she had heard from her great-grandfather a long time ago.
Her great-grandfather, who made his living through fishing in Myanmar, once encountered a storm and drifted to an island.
On that deserted island, he happened to meet an old friend and spent a wondrous day together.
The next day, the storm subsided, and they were able to escape the island together. But later, he found out that the friend had actually died a long time ago.
Her grandfather couldn’t find any trace of that friend on the boat, only memories of the help he received. And so, he has been passing down the story to his descendants.
The elderly woman thought that maybe this incident, too, was thanks to the island’s help.
“Of course, it’s a hard story to believe. An island that transcends life, death, and time... If such a place really exists, it would be astonishing.”
“It’s an intriguing story.”
“Indeed. It’s a story about the island of the dead.”
“...”
The elder woman soon entered the examination room. I had to reflect on the story for quite some time.
I also underwent several eye exams. The results were normal. They said I’m very healthy.
Nurse Lin and I passed through the first-floor lobby again to return to Room 907.
The gleaming marble floor in the lobby was particularly striking, and people of all ages were gathered around the fountain.
I glanced again at the piano I had been watching for a while before we went to the ophthalmologist.
Maybe it was because I had just heard the elderly woman’s story, but a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
If Uncle Miller had seen that piano...
He would have definitely been irritated, saying the humidity control wasn’t being handled properly for the piano.
I couldn’t help but smile.
I asked Nurse Lin if she had some free time. She said there were no more exams for today.
“Why? Did you actually want to play that piano?”
I couldn’t lie anymore.
“Yes, very much.”
Nurse Lin gave me a gentle push and said I could play as much as I wanted.
I took a step forward.
Fortunately, from the position of the fountain and the angle at which the piano was placed, it didn’t seem like the performer would be easily visible from the lobby.
I should be able to play at least one piece without drawing attention.
The massive lid of the grand piano was also helping me.
I dragged the chair with a scrape and positioned myself in the center. After adjusting the height of the chair, I gazed into the air for a moment.
Even before I sat down here, I had already decided for whom I would play.
Now, all that was left was to choose the piece.
‘What should I play?’
Should I play one of the pieces I composed on the deserted island? There are plenty of tunes lingering in my mind, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to play one of them.
No. Without realizing it, I shook my head. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea” wasn’t good enough for this moment.
I slowly ran my fingers over the piano keys. The slightly cool touch of the keys transmitted directly to my hands. The black keys, protruding above the white ones, tickled my fingers.
Suddenly, I recalled my childhood. The time when I first played the piano. I thought the sensation would have been forgotten, being such an old memory, but it remained in my hands.
The piece I practiced so diligently back then.
And now, the piece that seemed to perfectly suit this moment.
Kinderszenen Op.15-VII. Träumerei.
The meaning of Träumerei, the seventh piece in Kinderszenen, which the German composer Schumann wrote at the age of 28, reflecting on his own childhood, is “dreaming.”
I placed my hand on the first note of Träumerei, E♭. And I pressed the key deeply.
The sound created as the hammer connected to the key struck the piano strings filled the space.
Though my hands, after having spent time on a deserted island, looked delicate, I felt I could produce a deeper sound with them than before.
Focusing on the four-bar melody that repeats its rise and fall.
Filling it with the emotions I am feeling right now.
I created a warm yet beautiful melody at my fingertips.
A chill ran down my spine.
Goosebumps appeared on my back.
The blank notes I had practiced on a fake keyboard on the deserted island had, before I knew it, turned into the real thing and returned to me.
The evidence that what happened there wasn’t a dream continued to accumulate.
The 2nd and 6th bars.
The 10th and 14th bars.
The 18th and 22nd bars.
The melody, which appeared simple and unpretentious, filled me with a sense of completeness.
I thought of someone and sent my greetings.
I hoped my voice would reach somewhere.
And just like that, without realizing it myself,
I was humming the melody of “Träumerei.”
* * *
“......”
Nurse Lin silently watched Seojin’s performance.
When Seojin first said he wanted to play the piano, she never imagined this.
‘I thought he’d just play something like a simple children’s song...’
The moment Seojin played the first note on the piano, the surrounding atmosphere changed.
The people in the lobby, who had been chattering, fell silent. Even the patients, who had been moving busily to get their checkups, paused for a moment.
Everyone present in the room watched Seojin’s performance.
The piece Seojin was playing on the piano had a melody that felt somewhat familiar.
Nurse Lin, who didn’t know much about classical music, remembered hearing it at least once in a movie or drama.
‘But still...’
It didn’t seem to evoke this kind of feeling before.
They say classical music could feel very different depending on the performer.
However, Nurse Lin never imagined the difference could be this significant.
It was like an entirely different piece.
If the version she had heard before was lyrical and beautiful, Seojin’s performance felt like it was expressing a sense of longing, as if singing a farewell.
Within Seojin’s dazzling performance, there was definitely sadness.
Then suddenly, Seojin began humming in such a quiet voice that you wouldn’t hear it unless you listened closely.
Nurse Lin, who was seated close to the piano, could barely hear the sound.
It was the kind of situation that might have felt strange.
Yet, surprisingly, it didn’t feel awkward at all.
Whether it was because of Seojin’s intense focus or because the atmosphere had captivated her, Nurse Lin couldn’t tell for sure, but everything just seemed natural.
A child wearing hospital clothes, playing the piano with a calm expression.
The soft melody flowing from the child’s youthful voice.
In this mysterious atmosphere, Seojin’s performance ended like that.
Nurse Lin wished there was more to come.
There was a lingering sense of disappointment, as if asking, ‘Is this really the end?’
Even though the performance had finished, people continued to hold their breath.
With a bit of anticipation, she stared intently at the back of the piano, barely visible behind its lid.
At that moment, a familiar voice came from behind Nurse Lin. It was Dr. Loong, who had just finished his rounds, though she didn’t know where he had come from.
“That boy, he’s just like Glenn Gould.”
“Sorry? Who?”
In response to Nurse Lin’s question, Dr. Loong gave a brief explanation.
“A famous pianist from Canada. He was known for being so immersed in his own world that he hummed during recordings, which became quite a headache. If you were to list the greatest pianists in history, he would undoubtedly be among the top ten.”
“Ah…”
“That’s the kind of feeling I got.”
Nurse Lin looked over at Seojin. Could it be true, as Dr. Loong said, that Seojin had a world of his own? He always seemed like a bright child, but she only now realized he had such talent.
Sadly, as if there wouldn’t be a second performance, Seojin quickly got up from his seat.
The audience, who had been holding their breath while watching the piano, finally began to clap one by one.
As a response to the beautiful piece they had just heard.
And with a hint of regret.
They gave the performer their praise.
In the most unexpected of places—the hospital lobby.
That boy had surely become a pianist.
T/N: "Träumerei" is a German word that translates to "dreaming" or "reverie" in English. It is most commonly known as the title of a famous piano piece by Robert Schumann, part of his collection "Kinderszenen" (Scenes from Childhood), Op. 15.
Schumann's "Träumerei" is a gentle, lyrical, and expressive piece that evokes a sense of nostalgic dreaming or peaceful reflection. It's one of his most beloved compositions and is often performed as a standalone piece in piano recitals due to its emotional depth and simplicity.
