Five Ancestors Out of the Ashes #1: Phoenix

by Jeff Stone

  “They forgot?”

  “People forget all sorts of things, Phoenix, especially when it comes to medicinal herbs.”

  “So you were one of the people who stockpiled it?”

  “Yes.”

  This was sounding a little far-fetched, but Grandfather had never lied before. “Why did you keep the dragon bone to yourselves? I mean, couldn’t it be used to help others?”

  “Yes, but we found that it had effects beyond the acceleration of general healing. Most notably, it prolonged people’s lives. We did not want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “A dishonorable person who lives a very long time could amass a huge fortune and, in turn, become extremely powerful. That power could be put to ill use.”

  “But you aren’t rich.”

  “No.”

  “Then why did you and others keep taking it?”

  “I suppose we were greedy in other ways.”

  “How?”

  “We did not want it to end.”

  “Didn’t want what to end?”

  “Our lives,” Grandfather said. “At least, that has been my motivation. While I have no fortune to speak of in monetary terms, I have you. You are the reason I continue. Before you, there were others who needed me. It seems there has always been someone in need of my help. I suppose I am also selfish. I enjoy life too much to leave it.”

  I didn’t know what to say. This really was chi seen. “Are you sure you’ll die if you stop taking it?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. I know two people who stopped, and they passed away within one lunar cycle—a month. There was a third who stopped, but he eventually started taking it again. In the end, he died of other causes. Dragon bone does not make you immortal. If a person is injured and the wound is too great, no amount of dragon bone will help.”

  “So you take it once, and you’re addicted for life?”

  “No. It is not an addiction. It is more like a codependency. It feeds you, but you also feed it.”

  “Like a parasite that gives something back to its host?” I asked. “We learned about that in school. It’s called a symbiotic relationship.”

  “Exactly. In this case, it is a bond that must be closely monitored. If a person consumes dragon bone recklessly, it can become one with his or her system. The connection may be too strong to break. Skilled apothecaries knew to administer only the tiniest amounts, and to allow patients to take it for only a few days. Even then, some patients underwent a period of extended lethargy once they stopped consuming it. They were utterly exhausted, unable to even get out of bed.”

  “Isn’t there some kind of antidote?”

  “No. However, as I have said, if a person is not reckless with it, they can sever the bond. They can also fight the lethargy with extreme physical exertion, shortening the recovery period. It seems that sweating helps to disconnect the dragon bone’s hold and purge it from one’s system.”

  I thought about Grandfather’s peculiar scent whenever he exerted himself. “There is dragon bone in your sweat, isn’t there?”

  He nodded.

  “Who were the dragon bone users who died, and why did they stop taking it?”

  “One was an old apothecary named LoBak from the city of Hangzhou in southeastern China. He was a good man. After his granddaughter died in childbirth, he decided that he had seen enough death for one lifetime. The other was HukJee—‘Black Pig’—a black market dealer from the more northern city of Jinan. HukJee and LoBak were best friends. HukJee decided that he, too, had had enough of what the world had to offer. He had no desire to continue on without his best friend. The two of them distributed their remaining dragon bone supplies to the rest of us, and they passed away together. If anyone could have been able to locate more dragon bone, it was HukJee. But he never could. He tried for more years than you could believe, just for the fun of looking for it.”

  “Wow,” I said. “What about the third person?”

  “The one who stopped and started again, but died anyway, was another of my temple brothers. His name was Ying, or ‘Eagle.’ He was the first person I ever knew to use the substance. He began taking it at age sixteen in an effort to strengthen the Dragon spirit that lived inside him. He used to mix his dragon bone with fresh snake blood to make it even more potent, but he eventually decided that he was enough of a Dragon without the dragon bone, and he stopped consuming it. I later learned that he had to start taking it again because of the lethargy. In the end, he died of a sword wound that was too great for any amount of dragon bone to overcome.”

  “So you can’t just stop taking it and lie around until your energy returns?”

  “Me specifically? No. Over time, I have taken less and less and can still function normally. Even so, there is a minimum amount that I require, and I have been at that minimum for more years than I can count. When someone as old as I am takes it for as long as I have, just as LoBak and HukJee did, the energy does not return. It leaves with the dragon bone, and your life goes with it.”

  “How long have you been taking it?”

  “I would rather not say.”

  “Please, Grandfather. No more secrets.”

  Grandfather’s brow furrowed. “Some things should not be shared. This piece of information would change our relationship. I do not want that.”

  “Knowing your age won’t change a thing,” I said. “Some people live to be a hundred and fifteen years old or more these days. That’s like four generations. So, what are you, one-thirty? One-fifty?”

  Grandfather didn’t answer.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “I know what you’re worried about. You’re not really my grandfather, are you? You’re actually my great-grandfather or maybe my great-great-grandfather. Right?”

  Grandfather nodded.

  “Whew! That is strange, but I can accept it.”

  “Can you? Think about it for a moment.”

  I did, and Grandfather was right. This changed everything I thought I knew about my family. However, I still wanted answers. “What happened to my actual grandfather, my mother’s father?”

  “He died of lung cancer in China, as did his wife, your grandmother. They both smoked.”

  I frowned. That did hurt to hear. But I wanted more. “What about Uncle Tí? Is he really my uncle?”

  “Yes. He was your mother’s older brother—her only sibling.”

  “Does he know about any of this?”

  “He has his hunches about my true age, but we have never discussed it openly. He once did a complete physical examination of me and asked for a sample of the herbs I take, but I refused to give him any of my dragon bone.”

  “What about my father’s parents from Indiana? I remember you telling me once that they both died of heart attacks.”

  “They did, and your father did not have any siblings or extended family members, either. Your uncle and I are the only family you have left. I am sorry.”

  I shrugged.

  “What are you feeling, Phoenix? Be honest.”

  I paused, then swallowed hard. “I’ll be fine. You had your reasons for pretending to be my grandfather, and in every important way you are. You’re my mother and father, too. I can still call you Grandfather, can’t I?”

  I saw tears welling in his eyes. “I would be honored if you did,” he said.

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d never seen him tear up before.

  He saw that I was concerned. “Do not worry. I am simply moved by your words. I now believe I must answer your original question completely and honestly. I do not know how you will react, but I feel it is important. According to the Western calendar, I was born in the year 1638.”

  I choked out loud, and my brain skipped as I did the math. “You mean you’re more than three hundred and seventy years old?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s … unbelievable.”

  Grandfather folded his arms. “Is it? Tortoises live nearly two hundred years. Koi
fish live two hundred and thirty. Greenland sharks may live three or even four hundred years. There is a pine tree in Sweden that is nearly ten thousand years old. The list goes on.”

  “But you are a person. I mean—you still are a person, right?”

  Grandfather smirked. “I would hope so.”

  I took a deep breath. “Well, I know who and what you are. You are my grandfather, and I want you around. There are stories from all over the world about people living for hundreds of years in the old days. Maybe those people knew about dragon bone, too. I want to help you.”

  “You are a good boy, Phoenix. You make me proud.”

  “Let’s see how good I really am,” I said. “We need to think of a plan. You said that LoBak, HukJee, Ying, and you used dragon bone. Are there any others?”

  “Two. That I know of.”

  “Are they still alive?”

  “Yes. Both.”

  I felt a glimmer of hope. “Can’t you get more from them?”

  “Even if the others were willing to share, I would not accept it. Every day they give me is one day less for them.”

  “I’ll ask them, then. Grandfather, I need you. While Uncle Tí is nice enough, I want you with me.”

  He looked away again.

  I wasn’t about to give up. I snapped my fingers. “PawPaw is one, isn’t she? Even you call her Grandmother. PawPaw means ‘Grandmother’ in Mandarin Chinese, right?”

  Grandfather grimaced. “She is indeed, but I forbid you to ask her. I know how much she has left. It is not enough. Her reason for remaining among the living is far less selfish than mine. She runs a free clinic to treat sick people who have no money. Without her, hundreds would die each year. Perhaps thousands.”

  “But—”

  “No!” Grandfather said firmly. He turned back to face me.

  I pounded my fist against my thigh. “I have never disobeyed you, Grandfather, but I will not sit back and watch you die. I’m going to call her. You will not stop me.”

  Grandfather’s eyes narrowed, and so did mine. We locked eyes like bulls locking horns. I had been staring down competitors at my mountain bike races for years. No one could hold up to my intense green eyes.

  Grandfather blinked. “You are stubborn.”

  “I got it from you,” I mumbled.

  Grandfather’s face darkened, but his anger soon gave way to a faint smile. “Fine,” he said. “You win.”

  I felt my heart skip a beat. “What did you just say?”

  “I said, you win. I will arrange for you to see PawPaw, but I ask you not to take any of her dragon bone. You could, however, approach the other person I have alluded to. PawPaw can help you find him. I do not always see eye to eye with this man, and he and I have not spoken directly in many, many years. He is yet another of my temple brothers, but we had a falling out. I would never ask him for a favor such as this, but you seem determined to take action, so I will let you try, for both our sakes. It will take some effort to reach him, but you are young and strong. I have faith you will succeed. While I am strong at this moment, my health will deteriorate quickly. You will have to go alone. You have a good heart. I believe that if he meets you, he will be willing to share a sufficient quantity of dragon bone for me to live long enough to see you grow into a man.”

  I grinned. “That sounds good to me.”

  “If you are to do this,” Grandfather said, “time is of the essence. PawPaw currently lives in Beijing, which is twelve hours ahead of us this time of year. She is asleep now, but she is an early riser. We shall call her tonight, when it will be morning for her.”

  “What are we going to do in the meantime?”

  “You will continue to rest. This afternoon, I have a tai chi class to teach at the nursing home. You will come with me. After class, we will talk with your uncle. Perhaps he can accelerate the processing of your international travel documentation by declaring your trip a medical emergency on my behalf. You should leave as soon as possible.”

  “So I’m really going to China?”

  Grandfather nodded.

  “Woo-hoo! I won’t let you down, Grandfather. That’s a promise.”

  Forty-eight hours later, I found myself on an airplane departing New York and bound for Beijing. I could hardly believe it. It was Asian Airlines flight 333—triple lucky. I did indeed feel fortunate. I was going to save Grandfather.

  We’d spent the past two days straightening up the mess Slim and Meathead had made, plus making plans for my trip. My uncle Tí had come through for us in more ways than one. He took one look at Grandfather and knew something wasn’t quite right with him. A quick check of Grandfather’s pulse, and Uncle Tí demanded the whole story. Grandfather was reluctant at first, but in the end he told my uncle everything, including what he knew about dragon bone.

  I expected Uncle Tí to be angry, considering Grandfather had kept such significant secrets from him for so long. But it turned out he was more sad than anything else, mostly because of what Grandfather’s situation and condition meant for me. Once all of Uncle Tí’s questions were answered, he announced that he had a secret of his own. Years ago, when Grandfather had denied him a sample of dragon bone, Uncle Tí took some anyway. It seemed he was just as sneaky as Grandfather.

  My uncle had run tests on the substance, but he found that the more tests he ran, the more questions arose. He eventually gave up, classifying dragon bone in his own mind as some type of dormant bacteria or virus that woke up when introduced to a host and fused itself to the host’s living cells. The longer the exposure, the stronger the fusion. He was opposed to testing anything on live animals, so his experiments had been on individual cells only. He had no idea how a complex living creature would be affected by the cellular changes. Thanks to Grandfather’s explanations, he now knew, and he wasn’t happy about it. In fact, he was incredibly disappointed with Grandfather. To Uncle Tí, doing anything to disrupt the natural cycle of life and death was taboo.

  Despite his personal views, my uncle agreed to help, going so far as to present Grandfather with a surprise—a small supply of dragon bone that he had never tested. He’d saved it all these years. It wasn’t much, but it would last Grandfather about a week. While Grandfather was angry that Uncle Tí had stolen from him, he was also grateful. I was, too.

  My uncle helped us in other ways. He not only paid for my flight to China, he helped Grandfather take care of all my paperwork. I had no idea that there was so much necessary for a person to travel internationally. While I had never traveled outside the United States, I did have a current passport. A travel visa, however, was a different matter. Especially a visa that needed to be rush-issued for a minor traveling solo to China. Uncle Tí grudgingly prepared documents to classify my trip as an immediate medical necessity and forwarded them along with a visa request to the Chinese consulate-general in Chicago. It worked. I was overnighted a short-term travel visa.

  Most important of all, Uncle Tí said he would keep an eye on Grandfather while I was gone. He would even take Grandfather to the nursing home if Grandfather’s condition should merit it. That helped set my mind a bit more at ease.

  As for my trip, I flew from Indianapolis to New York, and now I was really on my way to China. Once I arrived, PawPaw would take care of everything, beginning with meeting me at the Beijing airport customs area. If I had not been a minor, she would have had to wait for me all the way down in baggage claim. I hadn’t seen her in years, but she had assured me over the phone that she would recognize me. Apparently, there weren’t many thirteen-year-old half-Chinese boys with reddish-brown hair, freckles, and green eyes in Beijing. As I remembered, PawPaw was a very nice lady. Best of all, she spoke English perfectly.

  I did speak some Mandarin Chinese, the dialect spoken in Beijing and throughout most of China. I also knew a few words in Cantonese, because Grandfather spoke that as well. However, my vocabulary was limited mostly to kung fu terms and the names of appendages and internal organs most likely to be damaged while practic
ing martial arts. For example, I knew how to say things like “Please stop, Grandfather, you’re breaking my arm,” and “Uh-oh, I believe your Crane Kick has ruptured my spleen.” These phrases were useful during training sessions, but not very helpful in everyday conversation.

  I had a translation dictionary with me, but it was next to useless because Chinese is a tonal language, and like most people, I have difficulty deciphering all the special marks used to identify the language’s numerous rising and falling tones. I was more than a little worried.

  Hopefully, the man I was supposed to locate in China spoke English. Grandfather didn’t know if he did. In fact, Grandfather said very little about the man, other than mentioning that they had been temple brothers, which meant that the man, like Grandfather, had to be very old. Grandfather wouldn’t even tell me his name, commenting that the man made a habit of changing his name so often, Grandfather had no idea what to call him. It was clear that Grandfather did not like him very much.

  The last Grandfather had heard, this mystery man lived at the ruins of the temple where Grandfather grew up. It was called Cangzhen Temple, which Grandfather said meant “Hidden Truth Temple.” When I asked what sort of truth was hidden at the temple, Grandfather replied that I should ask the mystery man. I couldn’t imagine what might have happened between this person and Grandfather, but I hoped to find out. Perhaps the man might be willing to shed some light on the past that Grandfather preferred to keep secret.

  As for my own secrets, it seemed I was now keeping several, and I didn’t like it one bit. Jake had called a couple of times to see how I was doing after being knocked out during the race, and each time we spoke, I found myself holding back more and more information. It was frustrating. I told him I was going to China, of course, but all I said was that I was going there on family business and Grandfather had asked me not to talk about it. I promised him I would tell him more when I got back. Fortunately, Jake knew how Grandfather was about secrets, so he understood.