“You’ve seen a lot, haven’t you?”
“I guess, but I have no regrets. What I’ve lived through has made me stronger, but more than that… it woke me up. Me and James in particular, these last few years, have seen so many things that made us think, I think. If I have to die, better to die for my cause than for some other asshole’s, you know?”
“You respect him a lot, don’t you?”
“I mean, he’s a brother to me. Family that I’ve never had, I guess. I owe him a lot, he’s taken plenty of bullets for me over the years.”
“You must’ve taken some for him too.”
“A few, yeah…”
“How did you meet?”
“We were both assigned to an antidrug unit in Colombia. He taught me practically everything.”
“Have you ever been married?”
He began to laugh, completely thrown.
“What a question!”
“What!? I’m just asking!”
She smiled, but the intensity of her gaze made it clear that she wasn’t going to accept no answer.
“Really, Kamilia. What woman would look at my life and say, ‘Yeah, that’s the guy for me…’”
“But don’t you think things would be different if you found someone?”
“Honestly? No. I don’t think that. And you?” He splashed some water in her face. “Why are you single?”
“Probably a lot of reasons. Or maybe I haven’t found him. If you do find a woman who would accept your lifestyle… would you change your mind?”
He understood what she was trying to do. But her body language was completely altered. Her fierce, determined stare had changed to one of disarming gentleness, and it scared him. She moved toward him, sending undulations throughout the pool. He felt her legs against his waist and his hands, and she laced her fingers behind his neck. She pressed her lips softly against his. They shared a long kiss – it was all they wanted, for a while. He looked at her; she looked at him.
“Listen Kamilia… I…”
In front of him, the blue ocean and the blue sky met in a perfect line.
“Yeah, yeah… I know,” she said with a smile.
He held her close and kissed her again, under the burning sun, with only the wind in the palm trees and the sound of the little portable radio.
CHAPTER 33
Namara hadn’t been back to Chinatown for years, but it seemed like nothing had changed. The fish merchants were still hawking their wares at top volume to the mass of people moving unceasingly through the narrow streets of the neighborhood. Danny had returned to New York several days ago. He had decided to plunge into the crowd of the area on a day like this like he had done so many times in his former life, for nostalgia’s sake. He arrived at the park where he had wasted away his afternoons playing Chinese checkers and, to his delight, there were plenty of people milling around like they’d never left. He walked through the park and thought about playing a game, just for fun. It seemed like all the tables were occupied with games already in progress.
His gaze finally fell on a table at the other end of the park that was obscured with a huge tree. There was an old man seated alone at the table. He watched him staring into nothingness for a while. He must have been in his sixties, by the looks of it. He wore a long grey goatee that grew to the middle of his chest, and a little black hat covered his hair – it reminded him of what the Mongol warriors used to wear. There was a sallow tint to his skin and his white silk Mao-collared shirt reflected the sun’s rays. His ample shirt and roomy black pants gave the impression that he’d stepped right out of another epoch. He looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open – or dead, maybe. He approached him slowly.
“Hello, pardon me, but would you by any chance be interested in playing a game?” asked Namara when he’d reached the table.
“Do you always speak so formally or is it simply because I’m old?” he responded calmly.
“What? Oh, no, I just…”
“Yes, I’ll play, but know that I’m as young at heart as a schoolboy.”
Danny stifled his laughter and nodded. He’s an old fool, it’s why he’s alone. He guessed he’d pulled the short straw today. The man signaled for him to be seated.
“My name is Sanfeng.”
“I’m Danny.”
“I know… you’ve aged since I last saw you.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember ever seeing you…”
“But I know you. You fought well, but you disappeared and we never saw you again. Why?”
“I see. Another spectator. To answer your question, let’s say I had other, better offers than entertaining old rich schmucks looking for a thrill.”
“Your Pak Mei was good. You might have scared a little girl,” he sniggered.
Namara couldn’t believe such a senile rachitic old man was laughing at him. “Eh, enough of that, you’re gonna lose your teeth if you continue!”
Sanfeng smiled and picked up his pawn to begin the game.
“You are resourceful, indeed, but I think you are not ready.”
“Of course, you think. And what do you teach, gramps, walker-fu?” Namara was determined to kick his ass, if not physically, then on the checkers board. He moved a pawn.
“You dispense too much energy in your movements…”
“Yeah? Sorry if I scared you, I know how hard it must be for you to keep shit out of your pants.”
Sanfeng was delighted. He’d manage to annoy him, a welcome change from the other frequenters of the park who were only interested in immensely boring gossip. He moved a pawn.
“I don’t know… you tell me! From the way you moved I think it is you who needs the diapers.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over that fart.”
Sanfeng roared with laughter, his hat askew. “I’m sure one with his head up his buttocks such as you hears farts all the time.”
Namara fumed. He moved a pawn, and thought about shoving it down his throat.
“Laugh a little more and you’ll lose your fucking chef’s hat. By the way, are you wearing it to hide your baldness or to hold in what brains you have left?”
Sanfeng laughed uproariously, driving Namara insane.
“I’m very happy to have met you. You are very funny! Nothing better than a good spat to start my day. It is the beauty of having someone with whom to talk. I thank you, my friend!”
“Listen to this guy.”
“Yes, listen to me: I like your style. I practice as well, but a different style, as I have done ever since I was little.”
Danny calmed himself down and moved another pawn, scrutinizing the old man.
“And now you got to the fights for a bit of fun, is that it?”
“More or less. I observe the fighters, I learn…”
“Ok, I’ll bite. What’s your style?”
“Ohh, you know… a little of this, a little of that,” he responded evasively.
“No, really, tell me.”
“Sometimes, we call it Dim Mak, but in reality… that’s not its real name. It is very much more than Dim Mak and rather difficult to explain,” he said serenely.
“I’ve heard of it, the Touch of Death. They say it’s a legend. You know, Sanfeng, I’ve practiced martial arts my whole life and I’ve never seen a master or practitioner who can actually prove its existence. I’m thinking, if nobody can prove it, it’s got to be a myth.”
Sanfeng smiled at him and placed another pawn.
“I assure you, it is no myth. It is a true art in which we use the human points of energy to neutralize them. But perhaps some have intentionally obscured it in mystery to protect it from ill use.”
“And the Poison Hand?”
“Also real. The effects of a hit can be delayed for days, months, or years. It all depends on the context and the skill of the practitioner. It might lead to death, or paralysis, or the development of illnesses.”
“And how did you learn all this?”
“At the monaste
ry. I was a monk on Mount Emei in China. It is there where I learned my art… there where everything is born!”
“You were a monk, and now you’re not anymore?”
“No.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Sanfeng smiled.
“I made the decision to leave the monastery to pursue independent reflection. I must see something other to attain equilibrium.”
“And you think you’ll find equilibrium in New York? You’re nuttier than I thought.”
“On the contrary. This is the ideal place to find the other, my friend!”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Yin and yang! I have lived the one, and now I am here to live the other.”
“And the other is, what, drug addicts, prostitutes, vain businessmen? That what you’re looking for?”
“Precisely,” he said, amused. He pulled a hamburger from a paper bag, took a bite and moved a pawn. Namara just stared.
“So monks aren’t supposed to eat rice and live on a mountain?”
“As you can see, no! I love hamburgers!”
“It’s unbelievable. You’re mad.” He shook his head.
“Yes, but aren’t we all, a little?”
“Maybe. But I still don’t believe you.”
“That’s understandable, but I am not taking you for a fool. You have always believed Dim Mak to be a myth and that it rests in secret. One must be ready to accept the knowledge and only those who are open in spirit and self to the universe can comprehend the true powers around us.”
“Pretty words, but proof…”
“Proof. What would you like me to prove, my friend?”
“I don’t know. Prove it exists, if you’re convinced.”
“There’s nothing to prove, only to believe! Proof is useless to blind men or those who do not wish to see. You need no proof to see what is around you, but you Westerners… you can barely see a fly in front of your face.”
“Like I said, pretty words.”
“All right, then. Proof, if you must.”
Sanfeng stood and took a stance on the ground, and signaled for Danny to join him. He stood, amused, seeing the little rachitic man watching him with those black eyes and long beard and little hat. He was about as menacing as a cartoon strip.
“I challenge you to take me to the ground. Spare me nothing. Knock me down!”
Danny wondered how many feet he could throw him with a single push. Four and a half, maybe. Anyway, he was asking for it; he deserved it. He would push, but he’d go easy; he didn’t want another death on his conscience.
“Ok, if you want.”
“Go for it.”
Danny pounced, seized his arms and pulled him forward. He grabbed his wrist and pulled. Sanfeng’s feet didn’t move a inch . He was rooted to the ground like a tree. Danny nearly fell over backwards with the force.
“Hang on…”
Namara lowered his position and tried with all his might to get him again, but to no avail. He was like a kid trying to move a boulder. Sanfeng smiled.
“Ok, I get it. Well, you asked for it,” said Danny resignedly.
Namara bounded forward with his two palms outstretched send him flying out of the park. He’d barely touched Sanfeng with his hands when a huge force like a magnet repelled him. He lost his footing as he fell. Sanfeng grabbed his arm before he could hit the ground. With his index and middle fingers, he hit Danny across the arm and pectoral. The two consecutive hits struck him like lightning and paralyzed him right away. He fell to the ground, numb, immobile.
“Aaaarrgh… what the hell was that!?”
“I present to you the art of Dim Mak, thank you very much,” said Sanfeng, utterly gleeful.
“You chink bastard, that hurts. Leave off, God, I get it!” Namara shouted from the ground.
Sanfeng contemplated Namara’s agony.
“Nothing like mortal pain to convince a man, don’t you think?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“You asked for it,” he said, mimicking his earlier words.
Sanfeng rolled Danny onto his stomach and delivered two palm hits to his back, instantly relieving his pain. He stayed on his back, completely exhausted by his ordeal.
“Jesus christ, what the hell was that,” he muttered as he caught his breath.
“I told you, Dim Mak! But only a small part. That was only a little demonstration, nothing dangerous, do not worry. You will not relapse. You are privileged to have lived through it. I felt generous today.”
“You call that a privilege!?”
Sanfeng laughed again and helped him sit back on the bench.
“So?” he asked as he took another bite of his hamburger.
“I want to understand whatever it is you do. I’ve never seen anything like that!”
Sanfeng stared at him very seriously and fixedly for several seconds.
“I need to see if you are capable… I am as yet uncertain. However, to admit we know nothing is the first step to knowledge. I can’t refuse a man who wants to learn. The universe allows no accidents. If you crossed my path, it is because it must be so. I would have preferred that you were Chinese, but we all must be accepting of imperfections! You come see me, I’ll see what I can do! You know, you will have to learn to trust not what you see, but what you feel. We will talk again another time, if you like. Everything in time. See me tomorrow morning, we will begin. It’s been a long time since I’ve had company! And now, we part.”
Awkwardly, Danny left the park. At the crossroads, he looked back, expecting Sanfeng to have disappeared. But no – he had risen from the table to begin his meditation. He stood under the tree with closed eyes. His hands were held at heart level and his arms were round, as though he were hugging a beach ball.
He thought back to what had just happened to him and wondered if the old man wasn’t a little supernatural. There didn’t seem to be any other rational explanation. Or maybe he’s telling the truth. He became more and more confused by what he saw next: the trees, both the mature titanic ones and the little saplings, swayed lightly in the wind. And, matching their rhythm and motion, Sanfeng swayed with them.
CHAPTER 34
Sanfeng’s apartment was in fact behind his shop that sold medicinal herbs, different roots, and multitudes of varieties of tea. They were all neatly organized into sachets and pots. The shop was basically a series of old wood shelves that rose to the ceiling. The place was full of Chinese calligraphy and pottery; it looked like a veritable cave of wonders. The store was in an underground mall beneath a huge office building where any number of other businesses operated throughout the day.
The back of the shop gave into a vast room resembling a warehouse. This was where he lived. It was completely bare. Inside, there was a tiny kitchen, a wooden table and a lamp, but for light he preferred the candles nailed up everywhere. There was no radio or television – instead, huge stacks of books everywhere. The rest was empty.
“Welcome!” said Sanfeng.
“Thank you!”
“You have come to learn my art, the art of the monks at the Lingdao temple. You wish to learn real martial arts?”
“Are you saying that what I learned isn’t…”
“Answer the question!”
“Yes, I want to learn and understand what you do.”
Sanfeng smiled under the light of the candles.
“Very well, let’s begin with Dim Mak. Know that the term means ‘to press the artery’, and not ‘touch of death’. This art demands great knowledge of the human anatomy. You must learn how the human body functions in harmony with the energies around you. The human body is composed of meridians, each of which represents an organ in the human body. They are the same meridians we use in acupuncture, but knowledge of acupuncture is not equal to knowledge of Dim Mak! You will learn to touch the points that affect the organ, to know the energy channels that circle in a human body and to use certain, secret points that lead to devastating attacks. But bef
ore all that, you must open your sprit to admit that such energy exists, do you agree?”
“Yeah, I can admit that there’s something bigger than me at play…”
“Very good!”
Sanfeng moved toward one of the bookshelves and selected two huge books, each hundreds of pages long. They dropped heavily on the table in front of Danny.
“What are these?” he asked, disappointed.
“These are what will teach you everything at an acupuncture level. Then we’ll go deeper,” said Sanfeng with a grin.
Danny didn’t say a word. He opened the first book and scanned the contents. Every page was detailed and written in tiny characters, explaining the points and meridians that the body could contain. He was at the time fascinated and daunted by the weight of the task awaiting him. He certainly hadn’t expected this… but he told himself he was here, he might as well read. The apprenticeship continued somewhat-daily, in which they shared long discussions on vital points. He gradually learned how to locate every point on the human body and how to make those touches efficiently. He learned the effects, the variants, how one used them in combat. Sanfeng set him simple exercises to increase the power and speed of his hits.
“Your hits must be extremely powerful, with surgical precision, like open heart surgery, for Dim Mak to work. Only a seasoned and experienced martial artist could accomplish it.”
He realized that, little by little over the days, he had begun to completely ignore everything he’d learned of martial arts; and that with Sanfeng, his knowledge and abilities improved at lightning speed. He had come to know exactly where to find each bone, each side, and where to hit to create a precise result, unique to any man on the street. He became more than he had ever been, that is, a warrior with abilities for which there were no words.
* * *
One evening, after Danny had snuck past the building’s locks and made it to Sanfeng’s store, he found him on his knees on the wood floor, dead centre in the room. Before him, he had laid out a rug and place settings for a meal. Another place was let for him, and he knelt across from Sanfeng.
“What’s all this?” he asked, squinting through the candlelight at the tradition Chinese meal Sanfeng had obviously taken pains to prepare.
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