by Tim Maleeny
Linda stepped back onto the sidewalk and hugged Cape, her head against his chest, hair tickling his nose and almost making him sneeze. When she let go, he asked, “What was that for?”
Linda smiled as she got into the cab. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”
“Me, too.” Cape gave a quick wave as the taxi pulled away.
Xan reached into the dragon’s mouth and pulled its jaws apart.
The lid of the three-legged incense burner opened with a rasp of ancient hinges, the elaborately carved dragon’s face lifting to reveal the velvet-lined interior. The bronze legs seemed to twist and change position as Sally studied the carvings, coils and scales intertwining above clawed feet that bit into the wood of the desk. A dozen eyes watched as she slowly unwrapped the cloth around the heart.
The stone felt warm in her hands, as it had the first time she held it. The dragon that looked like a heart studied her, glowing red eyes daring her to steal the heart, keep it for herself. The bloodstone seemed to glow from within as Sally placed it carefully inside the bronze stand.
“Here’s your rock,” she said unceremoniously.
Xan sighed. “That rock saved your life.”
“I took a man’s life,” replied Sally. “That’s what saved mine.”
Xan closed the lid, the dragon’s mouth leering back at him.
He said, “You don’t believe in anything, do you?”
Sally smiled sadly. “That’s the difference between us.”
“What?”
“I believe in myself,” she said. “Not this.” She gestured toward the incense burner.
“This is tradition,” said Xan. “It is-”
“Sin ka lan,” said Sally. “Bullshit-it’s an excuse.”
“For what?”
“For not starting your life over again.”
Xan’s eyes narrowed, his scar twitched.
Sally asked, “How long since your family was murdered?” Xan’s face reddened, but Sally spoke again. “Killing other men for the Triad hasn’t brought them back. They’re as dead as my parents.”
Xan’s voice was as quiet as the grave. “Do not presume you know what’s in my heart, little dragon.”
Sally nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t back off. “Everything inside these walls was a lie, from the time I was a child. Nothing has changed.”
“Things could change now,” said Xan. “Zhang Hui is in hell, where he belongs. There will be an election.”
“You think Dong will come back?”
“Of course.”
“He had fled the tunnels when I got there,” said Sally. “He is a coward.”
“He is a survivor,” said Xan. “And he is not an animal, like Hui or Wen.”
“Lay yow mow low gah?” asked Sally. Do you have a brain?
Xan clenched his teeth. “It could be different. You could come back.”
“You could leave, Xan.”
It sounded strange, even to her, saying his name without Master preceding it. Xan looked at Sally with a tired expression, the lines around his eyes deepening.
“You’ve grown up, little dragon.”
“I had to,” said Sally. “A long time ago. Maybe it’s time you did, too.”
Xan shook his head. “Where would I go? You don’t just leave-”
“I did.”
Xan frowned.
“You could be a teacher,” said Sally.
“I am now.”
“Someplace else.”
“Where?”
Sally gestured at the incense burner. “Where did that come from?”
Xan looked puzzled. “What?”
“The dragon’s heart,” said Sally. “Your precious relic. Didn’t it come from the five ancestors?”
“Yes, but-”
“Five Shao Lin monks.”
Xan nodded.
“Not criminals,” said Sally. “Not smugglers, bookmakers, or murderers.”
“No, they were-”
Sally held up her hand. “Patriots. Yes, I know the story. They were honorable men, warriors-not thugs pretending to be those things.”
“That was a long time ago,” said Xan. “Different times.”
“There is a Shao Lin monastery near the peak,” said Sally. “With roots stretching back hundreds of years.”
Xan shifted uncomfortably. “Why would they accept me?” he asked. “It is a closed order.”
“They would welcome someone with your training.” Sally picked up the incense burner, pushing it into Xan’s hands. “Especially if you came bearing gifts.”
Xan stared at the dragon’s face in his hands, then looked back at Sally. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“It’s a long flight.”
Xan nodded. “I’ll give it some thought.”
“Just do it.”
“You sound like one of those American commercials. You’ve spent too much time there.”
“It’s home,” said Sally. She stepped away from the desk and bowed deeply, keeping her eyes on his.
“Goodbye, Xan.”
Xan returned the bow. “Goodbye, little dragon.”
Cape started walking. It was still early and the street was busy. Across from the restaurant, two old men sat playing mah jong on a folding card table, the same two he’d seen the other night. Young couples crowded both sides of the street, some Asian, many interracial, their faces lit by the glare of neon from above. Cape looked at the signs, the strange characters and symbols that never became more recognizable no matter how many times he studied them. A few days ago that had bothered him, but now it just made him smile.
A few blocks and a left took him past Sally’s loft. The grocery downstairs was open, but the second floor of the building was completely dark. Cape wondered when he would see Sally again but no longer worried if he would. He realized that he could no more keep Sally safe than control the weather. But he could be there when she called, as she always had for him.
At the corner, Cape came to a manhole cover and stopped. He looked down into the darkness, thinking about places long forgotten, a side of the city rarely seen, and a part of himself he wished would stay hidden, as dark as the hole beneath his feet. He stepped over the manhole and crossed Broadway, the demarcation line between Chinatown and North Beach, an asphalt border between two different worlds. At the far corner, Cape turned and looked back, a wistful smile on his face. He knew he’d return, he just didn’t know when.
That night Cape slept like a dead man and didn’t dream at all.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-8e7982-a66e-9b4d-c280-3da4-2a57-5af320
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 23.01.2013
Created using: calibre 0.9.13, Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
Tim Maleeny
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