And My
Eyes Saw…..
It
could be 30 seconds or 30 years, Caine would always know when his son was in
danger and needed him, needed his physical presence, needed him there. Even 20 years after that day, that strange
sad and poignant day so long ago when Caine had started his journey to Paris
and Peter had started his journey alone… but not alone. There had been nights
filled with confusion and indecision. Guilt and fear had plagued him for a long
time afterwards and sporadically now and then when Peter just couldn't
understand and was too torn up to focus… It was then that he felt the gentle
hand on his shoulder, then that a phantom palm caressed his cheek, and tender
lips brushed his forehead. Sometimes he had calmed, and sometimes the agony and
the pain.. it just felt worse. The emptiness. Peace had been such a long time
in coming. Caine was not able to know how but he knew when peace came to his
son's fatigued mind. He could feel it when understanding and empathy flared up
so strongly, memories of tenderness and unabashed love, that Caine had only sat
and savored it. It was different now. Peter was dying. He was injured, he hurt, he worried, but he
was already somewhat detached only holding on to see…
Caine
had not bothered too finish following Peter's need. He had returned as quickly
as his feet and sometimes the air would allow.
The first person he found was Kermit. A littler thinner and with a few
more lines etched at the corner of his glasses. But they were still there and so was Kermit Griffin. "Hell in a
hand basket! Kwai Chang Caine it really is you!"
"My
son is ill." Hat in hand. Hair a little a longer and a little lighter. The grace, the litheness, the quickness, and
probably the danger still remained with the older man. The eyes might have been
a little more sunken in, but they were no less twinkling, no less sharp, and
certainly no less concerned for his son, his only son, whom he loved. The son
he lost and found, the son who died but had lived. Caine felt much grief to
loose his son and briefly dwelt on what a happy life they might have had if not
been for choice, chance, and circumstance.
Shaking his head he quickly followed Kermit and put aside his own
emotions. They would do Peter no good. He must be balanced and strong for his
son… his son…"Peter."
The
figure on the bed moved slightly, a whisper of hope in a man's mind no longer
so young. Older, wiser, but still the
need for reassurance the proof required for a ten year old boy awakened by
nightmares. Slight body where once toned muscles were. Eyes a little more sunken in, cheeks pale
and hollow. "Pop? Is that you?" Kermit
blinked and Caine was at his son's side the two clasping arms as if anchoring
each other to the earth. Kermit blinked
again and Kwai Chang Caine was holding Peter as he sobbed so much a scared,
fragile boy again. Kermit pulled off
his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and then readjusted them muttering that life just
wasn't fair in giving peaceful people speed.
"I've
got some calls to make, "then he bolted. But neither son nor father noticed.
"Father…"
The older man sighed at the sound of the endearment so seldom used, the
radiance, the light that was his son sending him soaring.
"My
son, I have come home."
"The
emptiness… I never realized it was still there. I could still feel you no
matter what, but having you not here…it was almost like the temple all over
again."
"But
you have found peace?" answered Caine for the first time somewhat
confused. Peter looked up at him with
too old eyes, eerily akin to looking in the mirror.
"Yes.
I understand now… I understood.." Peter's almost frantic explanation was
interrupted by a fit of coughing that would have made a seal blush with
shame. Caine wrapped an arm around his
body and cradled Peter's head.
"Rest
now my son. You are weak."
"But
Pop I got to tell ya-"
"Later
Peter. Right now you must sleep." Caine
held a hand to Peter's forehead and smiled softly as he heard a whine of
protest and then surrender. He was still after all Peter. "And then we have much to talk about."
**************************************************
When
Kermit had chanced coming back, Peter was soundly sleeping and Caine hadn't
moved an inch. He stared intently at the man before him as if memorizing every
feature, discovering each new scar and new line, each ring of laughter that his
son had acquired over the 20 past years.
Wasn't he in for a surprise…"Caine."
"You
have watched over my son diligently and I have much to thank you for my
friend." Kermit shrugged.
"Did
you find… what you were looking for?" It was a safe enough question that would
let the old man back out and open up whatever he pleased.
"I
found… a path. A road I thought I needed to follow. I believe I may have been
wrong."
"He
never resented you for it. He understood somehow I think when-" Kermit stopped
unsure of what to say next measuring his words carefully. Caine was used to Kermit's secrets and did
not push. Kermit shook his head
quickly and readjusted himself. "You've
been here all night and all day with no rest. You people never sleep I swear…
How long any of you lasted is a mystery to me. Go out. Get some coffee. Get
some air. Get something."
"All
I need is my son." Protested Caine.
"Yeah?
Well he needs you too…but more than that he needs peace right now. Go do your
Tai Wei or ping pang or whatever it is you people do...center yourself?" Caine raised an eyebrow…but desperately need
the time to reacclimatize and control the raging emotions within him.
"I
believe…you may be right. I will return… soon."
"Of course I'm right. I'm the Great
and Powerful Kermit. Now leave before I zap you with my emerald glasses." Kermit had changed too Caine noticed. Softer where Peter was concerned and a
little lighter step. Not so concerned
about holding on to peace with both hands, merely letting it come. Perhaps Peter had succeeded more than Caine
thought. Caine made his way to the
garden area and found a waterfall where he sat down and began to meditate. Then he remembered his flute and wondered if
it would perhaps not do Peter and the others in the hospital good to hear a
soothing melody. So he played; he
played the song for Laura. He played the song his father and grandfather had
taught him. He played the song he had taught Peter and was surprised to hear it
played back. He stopped but remained as
he was sitting and with his eyes closed until he felt a tiny form settle beside
him. Looking down, he gasped and saw a
dream within a reality.
Tiny,
almost fragile like a crystal spirit or a ghost. Hazel eyes, wide and innocent like Peter's, like his beloved
Laura's. Golden hair that fell over
thin shoulders in a shinning mass and a soft smile…curious, innocent, and
welcoming. "Hello."
"Hello
little one. Was that you playing?"
"Yes." The girl offered no explanation simply
watching Caine as he once again relaxed trying to settle the pictures and
memories floating before his eyes.
"Your flute sounded sad. I thought I could make it happy with mine."
"Yes.
I am worried little one."
"I
am worried too… about my father. " The
specter shifted her legs beneath her and was nimbly in a lotus position
mimicking that of Caine's. It struck Caine odd to find peace emanating from one
so young. Innocence, no. Carefree gaiety and utter trust no. But this peace? Some people spent their
whole lives looking for it and never finding it.
"My
son is hurt." Caine whispered without
even questioning discretion or wisdom.
A soft hand floated to his shoulder, incredibly tiny and
eerily familiar. "I understand. I'm scared too." And then she was kneeling beside him wrapping him in a tiny warm
hug. Thin arms encircling his neck, a warm throat pressed against his, a tiny
squiggling body; it reminded him too much of Peter and Caine tensed. The child did not let go. Caine found it oddly comforting to have this
child that reminded him somewhat of Peter, somewhat of Laura and somewhat of
something he couldn't identify soothing him so he surrendered to it and let her
hold him.
"Thank
you my little moon beam. Shall I play for your father?" Caine cocked his head in question and the
child cocked her head in concentration.
"Yes"
she finally decided. "And I will play
for your son." Once again the sounds of
two mournful flutes intermingled in the garden and Caine released some of his
fear by finding someone to share it with him.
Even if it was a tiny girl with Peter's eyes and Laura's gentleness.
********************************************
"Pop?
Pop?" The voice was weakened from its
once robust ire. Hazel eyes still very much alert, hands twitching on the bed.
"I
am here Peter."
"You
sound refreshed Pop." Peter laid his
ruffled hair back against the pillows, the cold sweat he had been breaking into
still dampening his cheeks. Caine
offered him a glass of water automatically.
"Gosh, I haven't had those nightmares in years." Peter sighed.
"What…is
it that you see?" Gently, gently. Many
times Peter's nightmares had sent him spiraling so far into his shell that it
would take months or extreme situations to force them back out.
"The
strangest thing. I saw…I saw Paul and Annie…and I saw you.. and I swear I saw
my mother." Peter drifted in
concentration, calming his breathing and focusing on his center. Caine was surprised and pleased. "I saw my
sisters and I saw Dennis and Lo Si and all the people from the Academy and from
the Temple. They were saying goodbye
to me…I was going on a journey…except that there was someone in danger that I
couldn't save. I could hear them yelling for me but I couldn't see who they
were and I couldn't get to them. I needed to go on my journey, time was running
out. I can't remember what was so important but if I didn't get to whoever was
screaming my name…then I felt like I was going to die right there and then. But the weirdest thing was that I didn't see
them.."
"Who
my son?" Caine leaned forward awed by his son's openness, proud of his son's
strength…and saddened that he couldn't have experienced it sooner.
Peter
gazed back up as if he suddenly realized something. "Oh Pop! I got to tell you…
tell you.." And it was that time that Peter's lungs decided to act up
again. A machine went off as Peter
started flailing and coughing deep-throated coughs.
"Peter!" Caine was up hands trying to calm his son
even before the doctors burst in.
"Please
Sir, We need to take care of this guy.."
"But
my son-!" Caine was trying to calm himself and Peter at the same time, fearful
of what would happen if he let go now. It was too soon, too soon. He wasn't
ready.
"Caine
they'll take care of him. C'mon." It
was Kermit, a hard hand grasping Caine's trying to drag him out. It wasn't
until Caine stopped shoulders slumped that Kermit could leave him from the
room, the frantic sounds of Peter calling for someone, something indistinguishable
behind them. Caine closed the door and leaned against it weakly.
"I
know how you feel Caine, I know how you feel. Listen-"
"Where
is his father?"
Kermit
took it in stride and shifted gears.
"Paul hasn't been heard from since about three years after Peter went
down under."
"Peter
went…down under?"
"Some
guys were after him too and so I called in a few favors and squirreled him away
so far and with so many middlemen that the devil himself couldn't find
him. Peter was a great Shaolin Cop,
especially when he went into Cop Fu mode."
"Cop
Fu mode…" repeated Caine turning slightly green at the thought of anyone
calling the Shaolin way "Cop Fu Mode."
Kermit
quickly blustered on counting off everyone that was most familiar. First you, then Peter. After Peter, Paul,
then the Ancient disappeared. You
don't know the rigmarole that happened because of that and if he hadn't
appeared at my place at the crack of dawn telling me to take care of this
building…." How the old man had gotten in through the locks, the traps, and the
ex-mercenary's paranoia was way beyond him. "Skalaney's been long since
reassigned to some hot detail in West Germany and decided to stay there."
Caine's eyebrows rose briefly then clouded with concern.
"She
has also…put on her running shoes?"
Kermit nodded and cracked his neck.
"Simms
was killed in a drug bust 3 years back and Skalaney sent for Annie. Last time I
heard she was working as a nurse/counselor in a little clinic somewhere. Her daughters married, moved on…" Kermit trailed
off when he realized the old priest was no longer listening. Ghosts were
passing before his eyes, phantom laughter ringing in his head, pictures
tumbling about his head.
"Then
my son was alone?"
There was
such a profound guilt behind those words that Kermit almost fell over his own
tongue trying to explain. "Not alone… it seems the kid did pretty good for
himself as an apothecary and…"Kermit smirked to himself thinking of Peter
following his father's footsteps like no one had ever dreamed… except for maybe
Peter himself. He forgot the rest of
what he was about to say when his cell phone blared at him making him almost
jump. "Griffin here. Yeah? All right, I'll be there in a few. Don't let them
out of your sight…it would be all we needed. Hey Caine-" Kermit whirled.
Whirled again. "How DOES he DO that?"
Kermit shook his head all of it feeling too old and too familiar… Caine
should be home making herbs and mystifying the shit out of everyone else around
him… Peter should be laughing and being smacked around by his Pop like they had
been…instead of lying a hospital bed after 20 years of being gone. A ghost. A
wanderer? Like father like son… "Hell in a hand basket, I'm getting too old for
this."
Alone..
alone.. alone.. Everyone had virtually disappeared after he had left. Thinking
that his son would be fine, a man now to journey his own path while Caine was
trying to find his again. Could he have been so wrong after spending so much
time being so careful? Had Peter felt
abandoned once again? Was that what had weakened him so? Caine stopped his wanderings down the hall
feeling more than a little strangled. He wanted to see Peter…needed to see his
son…needed to be there when he woke up to soothe his nightmares, to rescue him
from the temple, to-
"Lemme
go! I need to see my father!" The voice. A voice from ages long since past,
from a different time, a different world. A twelve-year-old boy…
"Not
right now; the doctors aren't admitting anyone-Hey! Come back!" Slight shoulders, still somewhat scrawny legs.
Round heavy head, dark inquisitive hazel eyes…
The face wore fear like a peacock wore its feathers. Scared...so scared…so young…Peter..
"Hey
lemme-" Caine gently helped the boy back to his feet, not daring to speak
without his trembling voice betraying him. "I am sorry elder." And then wonder of wonders or horror of
horrors, the child covered one closed fist with an open palm and bowed. "I am
looking for my father."
"The
doctors will not let you see him?" The
calm fell, the emotions raged, and Caine could see the chin quiver.
"They
say he's dying but I don't believe them. Not my father… he is strong. He can't
leave… me…" the denials were lost in sobs and Caine found himself engulfed in
all too familiar scrawny arms clutching his waist like he was life itself.
"Perhaps
young one...you would like some air? There is a window here." The boy could only sob and let the older man
lead him. It had always helped Kwai
Chang's own fear to face it in his son and show him how to embrace it to let it
go. But seeing the boy…it was like
seeing a ghost he had forever lost. It
was all too ironic…and Caine didn't deal in ironies.
"You
are worried about your father?" How many children ran through the hospital he
wondered.
"He's
dying. A disease, cancer or leukemia or something like that. But he's always
been strong…and he uses herbs a lot like his elders taught him."
"And
the herbs…do not work?"
"The
plants are useless!" the boy spat. "He doesn't…he's always talking about ghosts
and ancestors and how he wants to see them. He's leaving us because he wants
them more… he doesn't want to be here.."
"In
the hospital?"
The
boy flushed uncertainly. "No Elder, on earth. On this …um…plain. I don't really understand… I am too
impatient he says. I can't be what he wants me to be…"
"Your
father loves you." Stated Caine. It was like a waterfall, or a mountain, or a
breath of wind. Unstoppable, unfathomable, but simply there undeniable. The boy
sniffed again and wiped his sleeve on his shirt. His hair was thick and curly,
his bangs hanging in his eyes.
"You
don't know my dad."
"No.
But I know many fathers. I have a son like you. I left my son… believed he was
dead… and I found him again. I looked for him…for a long time. He was not who he once was. His path had
split from mine… but he was still.. my son. And I always loved him. "
"I'm
sure he was some big hero. I'm sure he did something important. My dad always
helped people, did big hero things."
The boy eyed him again warily, but Caine said nothing. Often with Peter
he had to go at his own pace...why should this small scared child be any
different? "I can't be what he wants me
to be."
"But
you are so young. How do you know what you cannot be?"
The
boy stood up and began to pace running frustrated hands through his shaggy
hair. Caine couldn't help but wince, fortunately the boy was too wrapped up is
his own lament to notice. "He's always
wanting more from me, to be more patient, to concentrate harder, to focus more.
To be better.."
"You
are afraid you will somehow fail your father?"
The boy dropped back down on the bench beside Caine who tentatively
raised a hand to stroke the boy's hair. He didn't bother to determine if it was
for the boy's benefit or for his own. "Do you think he will leave you if you
are not what he wants you to be?" Dark
eyes, so terribly familiar…so full of fear…
Caine wondered if this was how Peter had looked so long ago…before he
had pulled up such a tight wall to protect himself. "Do you know what he wants you to be?"
"He
wants me to be this great hero, this great healer or helper or whatever…"
"You
are wrong." The boy's head snapped up.
"He wants you to be…his son. And whatever your path is… he will love you no
matter what. Father's cannot be
disappointed in their sons. Scared, yes. Concerned, yes. But always proud and
always a father first and foremost."
"I
wish.. I just wish I could see him and tell him that I'll be anything he wants
me to be…"
"I'm sure you will soon." Caine was about to inquire the boy's name when someone came
flying down the corridor.
"Peter?
Peter, where you? Come on Pete, they're letting us in!"
Peter?
"Peter?" His name was Peter? Caine was
beginning to get what his son would call 'that tickling no good feeling', but
he knew that whatever was planned for him would happen at it's own pace. Somehow though… he felt that it had to do
with his son and this child and perhaps maybe the small girl he had met in the
garden. If he could talk a little
longer though…
"Caine?
Hey there you are man! Geez, what do you Shaolin people manufacture invisible
dust? You should bottle that you'd make a fortune!"
"Kwai
Chang. It's been a long time…" Annie's
soft voice trembled a little betraying her distress while the two women who had
once been girls stood behind her sobbing.
Caine didn't want to leave yet…but the boy, this 'Peter' was gone. He turned reluctantly to his son's mother
and sisters and took the now silently weeping woman into his arms.
**************************************
Once
again, night shadows found their way to the gardens outside the hospital. Annie and the girls were sitting in Peter's
room. Talking, soothing, begging him to hold on, begging him to come back. Caine could see them in the windows from
where he sat in the garden. Sat and
tried to meditate…but his mind was so clouded. It was strange… seeing his only
son lying helpless in a hospital bed while he was helpless to bring him
back. It wasn't like before, like the
numerous injuries and scuffles and possessions Peter had gotten mixed in
with. Peter actually looked a lot
calmer, except that he was searching for something. Would he in his delirium
not see his own father and become once again plunged into terrifying
abandonment?
It was strange the way Caine had always gone
along his journey, even when it diverged from Peter's. He was always connected with his son and
there for his son, as if Peter was his journey and the rest was merely to fill
the time. Of course, Peter had been his
dream for 15 years, and then his reality. The people he would always help, the
way he would always follow… but Peter had always been that way. What would he do with Peter gone? Lo Si had disappeared, but Caine was sure he
would turn up when it was time. The
picture of Laura had turned up nothing, though Caine had learned much on that
journey. He would tell Peter when he woke up…if he woke up.
Small
hands, a whispered breath. "Good Evening little moonbeam."
"Hi.
You're still sad. Is your son still hurt?"
Caine closed his eyes and stretched his neck.
"Yes.
He has gotten worse. Now he cannot even speak with us."
"Can
he still hear you?"
"I…
do not know." The girl sat down
gracefully sans flute, this time her hair was tamed in a braid that fell
loosely over one shoulder.
"My
father always tells me that he can always hear me. Maybe your son can still
hear you?"
"Perhaps.
I prefer to think that way, yes. How is your father?"
The little girl hung her head
breathing heavily.
"He's
very sick. They say not to worry, but I don't believe them. My sister wouldn't
cry so much if he was going to be ok.
She is lost without him, she needs him." Then very softly, "I need him
too, but he promised he would never leave me even if he died. He said that he
would always be here," the girl touched her head, "and here." Her heart. "But
I'm still scared. I feel like I would
be so lost without him to teach me…to…" And then she flung herself at him like
Peter had often done when still so young and utterly confused. She pressed her head into his neck and he
held her close wondering if there wasn't something he could do to help her
father…and feeling just about as lost as she was. "It is always good to share a fear."
Small
hands, grubby in the moonlight, wiped across startling hazel eyes. "You're
scared too? Of loosing your son?"
"Yes."
It was a hoarse whisper. "He is… my
only son. I would be…lost. Without a purpose…" How did he explain it to the
tiny girl? It had been hard enough explaining it to Peter and he still had
never come out and said what Laura's death had done to him, how he had
felt.
"My
father tells me that we can't change things that happen sometimes, things that
are supposed to happen and that it's better to...embrace it… He told me that no
one is ever truly… alone." She said
almost like it was a question. Very
quietly deep within himself Caine wondered if he was afraid of being without
Peter or lonely.
Father…
Caine's head snapped up as he heard the soft hint of a
cry. His son.. calling to him. "I must
go Little One. Will you be ok?"
"Yeah.
I'll be fine. Thank you for sharing my fear."
And then she too placed an open palm over a closed fist and bowed. Caine returned the gesture and then quickly
disappeared back into the building.
Peter…
Kwai Chang Caine froze as he slipped into the darkened
room. Peter was still and almost
translucent on the bed, and he was not alone.
Tall, graceful and full of strength… there was a girl with him. Long, shaggy brown hair. Her face was turned away but the way she
held herself aloof, the way she crossed one hand over one arm, it was all too
eerily familiar… And in the split
second that it took for her to breathe two words, it all made sense. The girl in the garden, the boy terrified
of being abandoned, who Peter had been talking about, why he wasn't alone. It
all made sense to Caine and he trembled.
"Hiya
Pop." It wasn't Peter who had spoken. It was the girl. "Look at you now…fooled all of us by being
some hot shot cop huh pop. You know
Peter's going to be all over you for stories and questions.. the boy's
insatiable. Wonder if he got that from you, they say you got quite a story pop,
and we always thought you were too quiet, too boring. Boy you sure did fool us
Pop… just like your fooling me now you faker. I see that smile at the edge of
your mouth, get up already. I know you want to laugh…" The tone was soft and strong, but the eyes
were tinged with a fear and the hands moved nervously, fingertips fraying the
edges of a loose shirt.
"Dammit
Pop you always do this! Always going
out to help other people, never thinking of yourself and certainly not thinking
of us… Cop instincts I guess… no wonder
you didn't let any of us near the Academy, boy you are in for some big time
raking across the coals….all that tell the truth crap. WHERE's the truth now, huh?" The girl had stopped pacing and instead
raked a graceful hand through her long hair in a familiar gesture. Caine recognized that she was babbling now,
something Peter had done when he was very nervous or very afraid.
"Come on
daddy, get up and yell back. Show me some of that Caine spirit you raised us
all up on. Tell me something my
grandfather told you about peace and embracing the darkness and all the other
stories you used to tell me at night when I was scared and it was raining. You told me you used to say 'I can't take
the rain anymore.' Well you better get
up and make it go away daddy, please don't leave me alone. Prove to me that those stories weren't
true…please? Pop, can you hear me? If
you wake up I'll pray to whatever statue you want… please just wake up. Open your eyes..please?" She was leaning over his body now, grabbing
one hand and smoothing the thick dark hair with her other. She reached out a palm to cup Peter's cheek
and then dropped a kiss to his forehead, another trademark gesture that made
her resemblance to Peter nearly breathtaking.
Grandfather…the word filled Caine with a
strange thrill he had never quite experienced before even when Peter was born.
Flesh of his flesh, yes, but Peter's child… There was something about being a father that could never be
taught, the bond that could never be explained except when it was shared… Peter
must wake up. Now. Before it was too late. Caine stood up with determination
when the door flew open and two more people came in. Two very young people who
knocked into each other in their haste to get to the bed.
The boy, Peter… and the little
girl.. were they Peter's children too? His grandchildren? Peter you must wake up! Look at the life
that is surrounding you my son! "Is he awake yet Matt?"
"No kiddo
he ain't. Stubborn like you." The taller girl cuffed the boy gently and wrapped
an arm around him. The smaller girl merely walked up to Peter's side and curled
her head in his shoulder stroking his hair.
She sniffed the air slightly and then turned puzzled.
"Will you
help us wake him then?"
"Sweetie
who are you talking to-WHO ARE YOU? How did you get in here?" The older girl dragged the boy behind her
and stepped forward into a half defensive stance between Caine and his son.
Caine
bowed slightly holding his open palm over his closed fist. "I am Caine. I will
help you."
Once upon
a time Kermit considered him to be the most skeptical, the most paranoid, and
the most knowledgeable man who walked the face of the earth. There wasn't
anything he hadn't seen or done, or any type he hadn't met. Then he met Peter
Caine, and his father. That just about knocked that theory flat on its ass on
day one. He then decided that he would
be surprised by nothing about the Caines being as they were connected to
everyone and everything that cropped up in the last 2000 time periods. That was before Peter dueled with the Devil,
Caine split, and Kermit got his own personal spirit walk. Right around that time he decided that
pegging the Caines was just a waste of time because the picture always
changed. These theories were duly
noted, reevaluated, and then discarded when he walked in on Caine, a young
girl, and two children holding some kind of séance over Peter's now glowing
body.
"Hell in a
hand basket." And then Peter woke up.
"Pop?"
from Peter.
"Pop?"
that was the girl.
"Daddy."
Kermit thought it came from the younger girl but she was so small and ethereal
that he wasn't even sure she was real.
Her tone reminded him of something though… calm and trusting and strong.
"Dad!"
that was the boy who looked too much like a young hoodlum Peter for Kermit's
own piece of mind.
"Yes, my
son?" Oh yeah, she reminded him of
Caine. The double take resulting from the singular phrase being uttered by both
men and the then resulting head bump by the children was just too much for
Kermit.
"All
right. That's it. There are enough weird people in this room to terrify the
Devil himself and I've seen it done already. I'm going to Starbucks. You have
one hour before I bring back Annie and the girls to get your stories straight
and then it's Judgment Day folks." And
just for dramatic effect, he slammed the door behind him. "Oh yeah."
"Wow look
at all you guys.. someone issue a national holiday while I was asleep?" The joke resulted in a warm smile from the
small boy who had forgotten everyone but his precious father. The older girl backed up and immediately
closed herself off by crossing her arms and pressing her lips together
disapprovingly. Startled, Caine recognized it as something he had done only
when extremely displeased. "Hey there kid, you been tearing this hospital apart
haven't you?"
"They
wouldn't let me see you!" protested the boy nearly jumping on top of the bed in
his haste to hug his father.
"Yeah?
That's never stopped you before…Come here little Moonshine. I heard you playing out there."
"Did you
like it? Grandfather was playing with me too… he's been very worried about
you." And with that the little imp was quite calmly climbing into Kwai Chang
Caine's lap…and surprisingly she fit perfectly.
"Oh? And
just how did you know he was your grandfather?' asked Peter struggling to sit
up. The girl slowly shrugged pulling
her head down to her left shoulder.
Somehow the sight of his little girl shrugging exactly like his dad
while claiming control of his lap made Peter almost giggle. As it was he was
insanely grinning even though his lungs were still burning and he felt so weak.
"Well
Pop…I was trying to tell you but you didn't let me." Peter wagged his finger at
his astounded but delighted father. "Children, line up. There's someone I'd
like to introduce you to. Children,
this is my father, Kwai Chang Caine-"
"THE Kwai
Chang Caine?"
"Yes
Peter. He-"
"The one
in the stories that you always told us?"
"Yes,
Peter the same one. I've-"
"You mean
he's really our grandfather?" Peter
sighed while Caine bit back a laugh.
"Yes son.
No more questions! It's my turn to talk. Pop, these are my kids. That little
rascal over there is Peter Daniel Caine-" The boy jumped forward.
"Glad to
meet you sir. I've heard so many stories about you! Is it true that you
actually split? Did you really live at a temple? What was-"
"Peter." The elder Peter frowned and sighed
again. "Was I this bad?"
"You
were…worse." Could that be a little indulgent smile of revenge on his father's
face?
"Great,
great….This little angel over here is Laura Kwai Chang Caine."
Peter
grinned insanely again as his father's face lit up. He could tell that Laura would have him wrapped around his finger
like a proper granddad in no time. "I am…honored Little One. You have a…noble
name." He bowed to the little girl who promptly climbed in his lap again.
"Will you
tell me about my grandmother?" she asked stroking his hair as she had her
father's.
"Of course
little one. You did not tell me your name in the garden."
"You did
not ask." The older girl snorted and
Peter smiled warmly holding out an arm towards her. Caine noticed the subtle change in his voice now, the richer
quality, and the more careful reverence of the name. It was the way one called
a sacred treasure which one had lost and found; it was the secret name of peace
that the wind whispered across the earth. It was full of pride and love… and
tinged with silent sadness.
"That
spitfire over there is my oldest daughter, Mattie Anne Caine."
"Mattie?"
"Matthew.
I go by Matt. So, you're our grandfather. I guess that makes you grandpop?
Geez,, Pop do you have a double life or what?"
"Secrets
are merely truths we have not yet learned, Matt. And don't call me Pop! Makes
me feel old…" Caine smiled again as
Peter began to grumble.
"How are
you feeling my son?"
"Like a
pixie. Even Sing Wah didn't drain me
this bad…" Caine caught the frown that
crossed Matt's face at the mention of Peter's past. He filed it away for future reference and then turned his
attention back to his son.
"I will
make you some tea.." Except that Laura hadn't moved, only pinned him with her
large hazel eyes. They were Peter's
color, but they held a hint of her namesake's shape, as did the curve of her
smile.
"Oh gosh,
Pop, please not that stuff!"
"Does you
make him drink that stuff too? He's got so many herbs at home and they all
taste like week old wet socks! Did you teach him that? Was that at the temple?
Is it going to make him better?" Caine
succeeded in standing up only to be barraged on one side by Peter and his hand
clasped on the other by Laura.
"So many
questions…Little Peter. Make sure that you are asking the right ones. I need to get…herbs. Will you be ok?" Peter gazed at his father flanked by the two
children the one squirming the other uncannily calm. They would do the old man good, especially when he was
gone… Sadness clenched at his heart,
reaching his father.
Peter?
"Yeah,
yeah. Go make me some of that god-awful stuff so I can set an example or
something like that. Matt's here and besides.. I'm a big boy now. Kermit'll be back soon and then we'll never
have any peace." The older priest
nodded, smiled affectionately at his son before caressing his cheek with the
palm of his hand, then moving down the hall with the latched on kids beside
him.
"Wow they
took to him fast. I think Kwai Chang
just found some new hobbies to dote on."
"Geez,
pop, don't call 'em hobbies like they're plants or something. They're his
grandkids. Grandkids he never knew he
had…and vice versa. What's all this
stuff about you being a cop and going undercover before you met mom? What are
all these stories? How come you never
told any of us about it?" She was
almost shouting now her voice hardened to obsidian. Peter recognized the tone and grieved for it. It was his tone
when he found out something his father had known and not told him, when he felt
betrayed. He had tried to be there for the children, but the herbs and the
healing and the people had to be attended to.
Laura and Peter were ok with his visits; Laura was coming with him and
starting to learn the herbs herself. Peter was always scared that his father
wanted him to follow in his footsteps he would have to constantly work to
reassure his son that all he wanted him to be, like a certain other father, was
his son. But Matthew… Matthew had been
the hardhearted one of the bunch. Tough
and stubborn like him, she also was skittish and carried a heavy abandonment
complex from watching her mother tuck her in bed and then never come back… of
course that brief kidnapping had affected her as well…oh what a mess that had
been!
He wished Pop or Lo Si or Paul or someone had
been able to tell him what to say, how to heal her, how to reach her. Mattie reminded him so much of himself, and
he thought he understood what his father had went through, what his father had
felt at his supposed death, his resurrection, and then the consequent
readjustment that followed. How many
times had Peter wished to reach out to his father to say thank you, to say he
understood, to say that he loved him?
So many roads, so many possibilities that had tied up and down reaching
out from his path affected by the path his father had walked and his father
before him and even his friends' paths.
They all fit now he could see… he wanted to tell his father… before it
was too late.
"Pop?" Mattie called his attention back somewhat
calmer now. Her anger was put back on
the burner where it would simmer…but it wasn't often that she looked at him
anymore with such blatant trust or need that Peter simply enjoyed it. "Sorry
for yelling like that Pop… it was just so scary to see you like that when we
got here… you don't know how many people we had to get through too! Nobody
believe who we were and there was this one guy who nearly killed us grilling us
for id and asking us who we worked for and all kinds of stuff until Peter and I
jumped him."
Peter only
laughed at what Kermit must have looked like with two Shaolin kids attacking
him to get to their father. He had
missed Kermit… he had missed all of them.
It wasn't fair, the thought made his blood rush with the lost time that
could never be regained… and just as quickly Peter calmed his breathing and
pushed the thought back down embracing the ever-present flow of time. Besides,
he might never have had his kids or met Mei. "He must be getting old to let you
kids get by." The dry chuckle came out closer to a croak and Matt leaned down
again, fear now present in her eyes.
"What is
it dad?" Dad… she never called him dad
unless she was horribly terrified or half asleep. She was so full of life, so curious and yet so afraid. She studied hard and she dreamed big, but
most of all she was his.
"Nothing
sweetheart. You ask almost as many questions as your brother does, but I guess
that's a family trait. I'll be damned
to know who it comes from though cause Pop sure isn't like that." He sighed
again and caressed the side of her face with his open palm. "Just let me look
at you." It was how Caine found them when he returned holding a steaming stuff
of the vile concoction he so simply called 'tea.'
******************************
"So you
were a mercenary?"
"Yes."
"Did you
used to wear green glasses when you a mercenary."
"Yes."
"Do you
really only eat green gummy bears? Did you know what they make gummy bears out
of? Do you know what they make the dyes out of?"
"Yea-no,
look Kid, if you don't be quiet I'm going to rig it so you have a nice bed just
like your pop over there, capice?"
"Sorry. My
dad says I talk too much when I'm nervous." The small boy shifted in his seat.
Kermit sighed and wondered if there was some mystical herb that gave
patience. He was almost certain that
Caine had some squirreled away for dealing with his son… and this next son
wasn't going to be any better he could tell.
It was astounding to see how similar the three children were to Peter
and to Caine. There was that familiar
calmness and tranquility, fear and rage still on the brink of overflowing, and
that damn inquisitiveness that was now once gain pulling at his elbow. "Do you think that Grandfather could help
him better? Did he use to save him when he was a cop? Do you think he'll be
ok?" Where the hell was Annie when he
needed her?
And on
cue, the door to Peter's room opened and the calming presence of maternal
instinct saved Little Pete from being flung head first out the nearest window.
"Kermit? They said Peter was up again and- Peter?"
"Hey there
Beautiful Lady, guess who's home?"
"Peter!" There was more hugging and more introductions
and stories tumbling left and right as well as questions and hurried
explanations. Somehow Kermit figured it
wasn't the time yet to let everything out, so he merely glossed over the part
of Peter asking him for help to get him out of there. Peter then filled in the rest of the details about his time in
Australia, meeting Mei, and about his children; about the lessons he taught
them and about the peace and happiness they had brought to his life. Annie picked up saying what everyone was
thinking but none would say. "You're really leaving this time aren't you?"
"Moving on
to the rest of my journey as Pop would say Mom. Strange the way it works, it's the same disease that took my
mother," Peter blinked and opened his mouth to fire off another round of deadly
questions when Kermit had slapped a hand over his mouth and grunted, "Later
kid. I'm sure Caine will fill you in
later..hey where'd he go?" But it was
only an afterthought. He had seen the terrified slant that the kid's eyes had
taken with such an accepting straightforward admission of the inevitable.
Kermit himself felt a stab of helplessness as if he was a pawn in some great
god's game. Having spent so much trying to control his life, he didn't
altogether get the concept of flowing wherever the river took you... especially
when you had three kids that so obviously needed you. Life was bitch that love
her great ironies more than anything else. No 12 year old boy should have to
try and understand those on his own, Shaolin teaching or no Shaolin teaching. Kermit made a mental note to do the ultimate
sacrifice and try to sit down with the kid for a solid 15 minutes or so and
make sure he was ok… maybe he should talk to Peter too… Annie's voice brought
him reluctantly back from his brooding.
"He does
that you know..." she smiled, but her smile was tinged with sadness. Paul gone,
she thought Peter had died… She thought
she knew now how Caine had felt for her son, the struggle seeing him again and
how he must feel coming only to say goodbye. At least they would get to say
goodbye this time…and besides there were the grandchildren. Peter was standing by her side his
breathing quick, his body never quite settling down. Laura was beside her father; Annie could hear the slight rustle
of the feather hair between the tiny little girl fingers. She cocked her head again listening for the
eldest daughter… She too couldn't sit
still, but her movements were harsher, deliberate, and hinted of an explosive
rage. It was Peter all over again.
"Mattie's gone too." Peter's sigh was
nearly deafening.
"Come on
kid, I'm out of gummy bears."
"Where are
we going?"
"To get
more. Walk. Now." The two shuffled out
Kermit still trying to field a barrage of questions from the young boy. This left Peter in Annie's more than capable
hands.
"They are
beautiful children Peter."
"They had
a beautiful mother, I wish you could have known Mei. She reminded me a lot of you with the way she always knew
something was bothering me, and she was so strong too when I couldn't be.."
"Tell me
about Mattie. She is terrified of loosing you."
Peter
snorted. "That kid's not scared of anything.
Tough as nails and hard as obsidian.
When I saw her face for the first time, it was incredible. She was mine, my daughter and she was so
beautiful so trusting.."
"She saw
her mother die didn't she?" Of course
Annie would guess what was at the root of the problem. Peter was convinced that
if Mothers were put in charge of the world, it would be a much better place.
"Mei
insisted on putting her and Peter to bed even when she was in labor. She refused to go the hospital or to even
relax until she absolutely had too.
Matthew heard her screams and was on her knees before any of us even
noticed her. She begged Mei for hours
to come back, promising she'd be a better daughter, that she'd listen, do
whatever she wanted if she would come back.
I guess..she always felt that somehow she wasn't good enough for her
mother to fight and stay…" Peter talked haltingly still feeling the sting of
Mei's death even after all the time that had passed over the wound. "After
that, gosh she was only 13, Peter barely five, she wouldn't talk to me after
that. She'd go off in the forest, go
and swim... I swear the girl's part fish.
I never wanted to push her just like Pop never wanted to push me…but
I've never been able to reach her…ever. And now... now I don't know what she
thinks or how she'll react when…" Peter
swallowed not quite able to be so flippant about his own death. He was scared and reaching how to his
father before he could help himself.
His father sent back reassuring warmth and love, safety like a pair of
comforting arms around his shoulder, and then Peter realized that he was with
Matthew.
Annie took
a deep breath before she once again trusted her voice, "She's very protective
of the other two."
"Oh yeah.
She yells at the poor boy more than I do I think. She thinks that she needs to make up for failing her mother I
think. Sometimes though I am not sure
if she even knows how she feels. So
much rage…I think Laura is really the one who keep us altogether. She reminds me so much of Pop it's not even
funny."
"I'm sure
the Caine resemblance is especially strong in her…perhaps she has inherited the
spirit of her grandmother?"
"You been
hanging around Pop too long mom. You're starting to talk like him." That tall brunette reached over with a warm
smile to stroke Peter's hair as she had when he was a boy. "Everyone does
sooner or later. Tell me about Mei."
Swift sure
strokes, sliding through the water.
Long toned muscles floating, gliding as the blood rushed through her
veins. Her lungs were burning but she
dragged her arms through the water just a little farther, just a little
faster… Then she turned on her back
flipping her thick shaggy hair over her shoulder and floated closing her eyes
and breathing in and out... in and out..
In and
out.. come on Mei just keep breathing..
Mommy?
Mommy!
No, Matt-!
Let her be…she will not
understand…otherwise.
Mommy please wake up?
Mommy? Mommy don't leave us, don't leave me mommy. Mommy I'm scared… mom…
The shrieking and
the mourning had gone on for days before her father had kicked them out, some
of them forcefully when they tried to stay and blame it on him, take his
children. But nothing had been able to quiet the voices in Mattie's head…
telling her it was her fault. Telling her she wasn't good enough… telling her
that she would always be alone… telling her…
"Matthew."
She floundered in the pool for a second before rising up again. The older man
was sitting at the edge of the pool calm but poised to strike...as often her
father had sat when watching her first learn to swim. "You are…upset."
Matthew
kicked herself to the side and dragged herself out of the hospital pool. She wrapped a thick fluffy robe around
herself and then dropped down next to the older man. Her father's father, her
grandfather. So many things to say…so
many stories she had heard and the love was more than self evident… like
watching the way the stars caressed the night sky.
"It is…
all right Matthew. I know you are scared.
I know you think your mother's death was your fault…but there are other
things you may not understand."
Mattie
didn't even bother wondering how he knew.
Her father always knew, her grandfather would know too. It was the way
things were when one understood the Way.
Caine smiled at the easy acceptance the girl gave him. She didn't trust him or herself quite yet…
but she was like a half empty jar that could still be emptied and still hold so
much more. Peter had taught his children
much… but no one could force understanding.
It was a step Mattie would have to take for herself. Caine understood now that he wasn't here
for only his son, but also for his son's children. The river was flowing where it would, branching out here and
there with every breath, with every word.
He could only follow where it would take him.
Mattie
closed her eyes as tears threatened to spill.
Her father was lying in a hospital bed dying because he cared too much
about the other people to protect himself or them. Why weren't they ever enough? She blinked and clenched her hands automatically retreating deep
into her mind, into the quiet place her father had once helped her to
create. Red desert sands for miles
around, thick green bush trees and her sea… the coast… the gleaming white sands
of the beach and the calming breeze lazily floating over the waves…
Matthew…may
I come?
Caine would never enter even Peter's secret place without asking. In response Matthew opened her eyes and
looked at this enigmatic grandfather.
"It's beautiful isn't it? There's a place like this not far from my
home…my mother used to always take me here when I was little. It is where I learned to swim, well when Pop
wasn't drowning me in his attempt to save me."
The older man sat down nimbly beside her and surveyed the scene.
"It is not
unlike Peter's quiet place…only his is in a forest."
Mattie
only grunted. "Wouldn't know I've never seen it. Seems there's a lot dear old dad liked to keep hidden behind
such devastating a smile."
"Matthew…"
started Caine.
"I know, I
know. Don't say it. I should be more
accepting, more forgiving, more something.
Well I'm sorry I'm not the son my daddy wanted me to be so bad."
"And how
do you know that your father wanted a son…more than he wants …his daughter?"
Mattie got
up and began to pace, the waves in the place beginning to churn a little beyond
their peaceful surface. "Because I…well
because I read his journal. It wasn't
on purpose or anything.. it was an accident. It was before Peter was born and I
was looking for some poems mom had written.
I started to read and my father was talking about how he wished he had a
son to teach and all this stuff. I put
it back as soon as I realized that it was his private journal…Pop's taught us
all better than that. But still, it was
his thoughts… and my father wanted a son.
I wasn't good enough then, I'm not good enough now…"There went the hand
through the hair again. Caine felt the
slight touch of Peter in his mind… but he was merely seeking his
whereabouts. Matthew had to be attended
to.
"You were
not ready to read your father's journals." Stated Caine. It wasn't a reprimand, but a soft fact in
hard light. "Although, perhaps if you would have read a little farther, you
would have seen the pride for his daughter that overrode his desire for a son.
Do you know…when Peter was very young his mother also died…and he believed I
had died, and he did not have any peace.
Peter was very much alone, and afraid, and angry. Very angry. Even when I found him, he was still
angry. He did not wish to…be reminded
of his failure from that night…nor did he wish to be left alone. It was difficult for him to live as a supposed 'failure' with his 'perfect'
father once again looming over him. But
I loved my son very much, not because he was a cop or Shaolin or even because
he reminded me of his mother. I loved him simply because he was my son. Perhaps you weren't ready then… but I
believe it would be good if you read more of your father's journal…do you have
them?"
Mattie
nodded her tears hard and glassy with restrained tears, tears restrained since
she had been an 11 year old girl who believed that her father didn't want her
because she wasn't a son and wasn't good enough.
"My
granddaughter..." Caine paused to taste the new word and found it very
pleasant. "There is a certain strength found in the releasing of a burden. I am old but strong, there are many burdens
I have borne for Peter. Please, allow
me to bear this one for you as well…"
Mattie
began to sniffle but looked up in a last desperate effort to hold her walls
around though they were cracking with the gentle love from her grandfather and
from her father who though wasn't listening was trying very hard to connect
with Matthew. "Is that your cryptic way of saying that it's okay for girls to
cry?"
Caine smiled. "No. I
am saying that you must not let your pride get in the way of your peace. Indeed, it took something very powerful
before your father found his peace."
"What was it?" Caine drew close to the young girl until
they were breathing the same breaths and stared into the hazel eyes that could
have been Peter's, but were Matthew's.
"My dear
granddaughter, you are Peter's peace. You bridged the gap from darkness to light, and made him love
without reserve without fear, and received love in the same kind. You have made my son live." She froze… and then like an old dam she
broke, the stubborn clinging plants of love having broken through and all her
fear and guilt and anger flowed out over the strong bank that was Caine. "I…am
here. You don't have to worry I can
see… your tears."
Peter
tensed when Mattie's emotional release came bounding both through her and his
father. Peter was almost as closely
bound to Mattie as he was to Kwai Chang and the reverberations of both made him
gasp involuntarily. "Peter?" His mother
was at his side in a moment. "Peter what's wrong?"
"No mom,
not what's wrong." Peter nearly split his face with a beaming grin not even
bothering to wipe away his tears as he felt the his oldest daughter's spirit
come flying up the hospital stairs straight for her father, the wall that had
been between them soundly shattered. "It's what's right."
***************************************
"I'm sorry sir, it's all I can give him"
"2 weeks?!
This kid's seen everything from Buddha to the boogie man and you can only give
him 2 weeks?" The nurse cowered behind
the doctor having heard legends of the loud man's…dissatisfaction with the
hospital. The doctor didn't even break
a sweat.
"He's been
fighting it off himself would be my guess.
Home remedies, herbs, meditations, things of that nature. And he is hardly a kid. Very strong man, I can tell. But his poor body is shutting down. How he kept it up as long as he has with
that kind of advanced cancer I haven't the foggiest clue and quite frankly I
don't care. He has 2 weeks. Take him home."
"Well I'm
not leaving him here to-what?"
The doctor
smiled indulgently at the triumph of flooring the roaring bear before him. "I
said, take him home. He deserves his
family and his friends, not white walls and beeping machines. I'll have the paperwork in tonight, he'll be
discharged tomorrow morning."
****************************
Like a fish out of
water, that's how Peter described his oldest daughter. Deliberate, but seeming out of place in the
world as if she yet had to find the way to walk. He was glad to see the calming presence her grandfather had on
her.. and the way she seemed to glide while taking care of him and the other
children and Caine. Of course Caine
would always take care of himself, but Mattie gained a confidence and ease like
none other except when she was in the water so Caine was more than happy to let
her have the run of the place while he started to teach his knowledge of herbs
and teas to Laura. Kermit had taken off
for a few days to catch up with the man who had the dubious privilege of being
a best friend and of course young Peter trailed him around like flies on honey.
"Kid you
ever heard of verbal diarrhea?" Peter
wrestled with the question for a second remained quiet…for the next five
minutes. Then he started up again not
being able to get his fill of stories of his father's days as a cop, Kermit's
days as a mercenary, Caine's adventures. "Kid you ever heard of Turret's syndrome?
"I-no?"
"Well
you're about to see it big time demonstrated if you don't be quiet." It wasn't that Kermit wasn't being patient
with the kid… he just couldn't remember anything else that day and didn't want
to waste time doing so. He would tell
little Peter all about his father if it took him a lifetime…but 3 hours
straight was enough for anyone. They
were easy days for the Caine household and Kermit was just crossing the front
door when Caine stepped out of the shadows and touched his shoulder.
"Christ on
a Crutch! Can't you people ever just say hello?!" He immediately frowned at the look in Caine's eyes. "What? Is
something wrong with Peter?"
"It
is…time." The pause was vintage Caine
and Kermit had heard it many times before.
But the pain behind it was something he'd only heard a couple of times
in his life, once in his own voice when his brother had died. Peter was lying in his bed, the children
around him. Mattie's eyes were swollen
and still shiny with unshed tears, Peter was doing his hardest not to cry, but
Laura was openly sobbing. Strange how
she had always been the calmest…but perhaps it had because she had her father
to center to her. She was just a kid, heck
they were all still just kids and Peter wouldn't be around to see any of them-
"Kermit. Sit." Hissed Caine. Kermit did as he was instructed even closing his
eyes uncertain of what was going to happen.
When he
opened them it was like waking up from a dream 20 years in the past. Peter was young, lithe and strong standing
in front of them with his patented crooked smile. "Kermit?"
"Peter."
"Daddy!"
"Pop!" The children ran while Kermit looked around
hastily. It was dark and shadowy except
for light which seemed to be everywhere and coming from Caine himself at the
same time.
"Wow Pop,"
Matt said between sniffles. "You clean up nice."
"So you
mean this is good-bye, dad?" asked little Peter doing his best to not sniffle
in front of his sisters.
"Yeah
Kiddo I guess it is." Answered Peter grabbing his tall son in a bear hug,
trying to turn him away so he wouldn't see the tears. "Never expected the afterlife to treat me so well…but its part of
the journey son. I'm not really dead,
just moved on. I'll always be there for
you son, here" Peter wiped a strong hand across his son's temple. "-and
here." Peter poked his son playfully in
chest and then hit his nose… an old game.
And one that caused the tears to press harder. You take care of my girls for me k? Try to stay out of trouble, don't annoy Kermit too much and if he
tells you anything bad you don't believe it."
His son could only nod then throw his arms back around his father's
neck.
"I'm sorry
I wasn't a better son father. Please
don't leave me?"
"Oh
Peter…you could never disappoint me. You are my son… and I love you because of that
not because of what you do or what you think I want you to do…I'll always love
you because you are…Peter. Don't ever
forget that son…" Peter held his son
for the last time in his arms, savoring the scent of his hair, the weight and
warmth of his small body.
"I won't
dad." Promised Peter. He stepped back
and stumbled straight into the arms of Kermit who wrapped the boy up in a hug
that was as tight as his father's.
Peter didn't protest or talk. He
sat silent for the perhaps the first time in his life.
"Well
Pop…guess I should have asked for that car earlier huh?" Kermit winced at the joke that fell flat on
its face. Trust one of Peter's kids to
joke at a time like this.
"You know
Matthew… I'm so proud of you… so beautiful, so smart, so talented. If I could have changed time I would not
have wanted any other daughter or son different than you… except that you call
me Pop!" Peter reached out to his
eldest child and caressed her cheek in a gesture that brought the silent Caine
pain.
"Yeah well
you won't have to hear it for very longer…father…" Mattie's voice broke and she flung herself into her father's arms
weeping openly. "I'm so sorry father..
I pushed you away I thought you didn't love me because I wasn't a boy…"
"Baby
girl… You could never disappoint me.
You brought me a peace I could have never found anywhere else. You are so like your mother..you're own
spirit…."
"And so
like your father...full of stubbornness.." muttered Kermit.
Peter
smiled at his old friend. "You keep him out of trouble you hear Kid?" Kermit tried to give him a innocent look and
failed. "And remember I love you
Matthew Anne Caine."
"I love
you too…"
"Peter…"
whispered his father coming forward.
"It is almost…time."
"Yeah Pop
I know." His son grimaced and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"Sorry, I know you don't like it when I call you Pop, Dad." Caine took a step forward and reached out to
his son's shoulder.
"My son, I
believe I loved it best when I you called me…Pop." And then the two men could hold themselves back no longer and
held each other with strength to rival that of a mountain lion. That of the
morning sun itself as it pushes away the night. "You've been lost to me so long…my son."
"No…I was
always here…and here."
"And you
always will be." Caine brushed his lips against his son's forehead and Peter
reached out to cup his father's cheek.
They gazed at each other fondly, remembering and memorizing until a tiny
heartbroken sob interrupted them.
"Daddy,
don't go! Please daddy you can't leave me alone!" IT was the tiny Laura who had lost all calm, all wisdom, the aura
that made the girl a wonder… and was scared and lost little girl.
Peter only
hugger her singing soothing lullabies.
She was so tiny, so innocent, but so full of the life that radiated from
a daisy, of gold beauty that shone from the sun. "Remember what I old you
sweetie... about the river?"
"The trick
is not… to fight the water. The trick
is to let it…push you along."
"The river
will always run its course sweetheart.
Do not try to control it, but follow where it leads you and you will
find your path."
"I'll miss
you daddy."
"I'll miss
you too my golden girl, my moonbeam.
Take care of your brother and sister for me… you were always the calm
one. And keep a sweet smile for your
grandfather… I think you remind him of my mother."
The girl
sniffed and kissed her dad's cheek. "I am honored. Good-bye Daddy. I promise
I'll be a good girl while your gone. "
"I'll be
watching you baby… and I'll give you a flower when I see you again I promise." The girl nodded and Peter held her briefly
before transferring her to the strong arms of his father.
"Take care
of them for me?"
"It is an
honor, my son." Caine bowed to his son
pressing an open palm over his closed fist.
Peter returned the salute and when he straightened back up was dressed
in the flowing Shaolin robes and glowing so as to be iridescent.
"Take care
of yourself my friend…I won't be there to save your butt." And then Kermit and the children bowed to
the non-earthly man. Not even a man
anymore, he was the spirit of the crane gone into the light reflecting in the
darkness.
"Farewell
my son." Whispered Caine…and then all was dark. They were once again in Peter's bedroom his cold body lying empty
on the bed. Peter was sobbing into
Kermit's tie, Mattie was slowly caressing her father's forehead and fluffing
his hair, Laura was still in Caine's arms clinging to him as tightly as he was
clinging to her. They seemed to be two
sides of a cracked mountain trying to stay standing in a winter storm.
**************************************
The days
were no less full of crime, grime, and half assed hackers, but still they
seemed to trickle by after Peter died.
Caine retained his early temple with the children. Kermit had worked on the logistics of
enrolling Peter in a school and getting Mattie an in at the local college. When Kwai Chang opened his school again,
Mattie taught beginner and advanced swimming classes to go with it. Lo Si appeared out of nowhere one day as
they were having tea and watching the sunset, Laura drinking it in like a very
essence.
"Master,
you have returned?"
"There are
students to teach, people to help…and children to be raised Kwai Chang
Caine. You had problems enough with
your first, what makes you think the next three will be so easy?" Caine laughed at his master, always familiar
always strong, always a step away where he needed to be. "You are happy Kwai Chang?"
"I have
lost my son my friend…but at least this time I got the chance to say
goodbye. And now I have a grandson and
two granddaughters… how can I not be happy? The river is flowing where it
will. I must… follow it."
"That is
good my friend. Very good. I had hoped
you would not forget what you had learned…I did not wish to spend 100 more
years re-teaching it to you."
"Grandfather!
It's time for dinner and-" Laura tall
and calm once again stopped at the sight of her beloved grandfather's visitor.
"Hello."
"Hello
Laura. I believe you said something
about dinner? The air in Chinatown
always makes me so hungry."
"Yes
Ancient one…" answered Laura bowing.
There was a slight smile tugging at Caine's mouth as Lo Si proceeded the
girl. He turned back towards the sun,
inhaling the air and seeking for a presence that was no longer there.
"Are you
all right grandfather?" asked Laura slipping her tiny hand into his calloused
palm. Caine turned to her and his ears
heard the wind, his heart felt the rushing breeze and he swore that there was
the lightest touch of lips on his forehead.
He opened his eyes again and beamed at his youngest grandchild
delighting in the way her smile sparked up like Laura's and that her hazel
eye's shined like Peter's.
"Of course
Laura Kwai Chang Caine. I am… a-ok."
~fin~
