Lake Water
A quarter moon hung low over the horizon, as the sky turned purple black at the death of day and the birth of night. Being that a town of any size was still 3 days off, and our transport had hissed, spit and refused to roll a centimeter further, we set up camp just off the road, in a wooded area, next to a lake. Enter then the nightly ritual; the Bakasaru whining about being hungry, Sanzo thumping him with his almighty fan and Hakkai building a fire to make dinner. And me? I got the hell out of the way, out of the reach of fans, pans and flailing monkeys.
Instead, I walked down to the lake. Kicking off my boots as I got to the waters edge, I wiggled my toes in an old rite of childish freedom and walked into the shallows just to my ankles. Not being a swimmer, that was more then deep enough. Funny, that the son of a water demon couldn't swim a stroke. Thanks Dad, owe ya one for that. Jien could swim, man he could dive and paddle to his hearts content. Me, all I did was sink. Jien tried to teach me and teach me and pulled me off the bottom more times then not.
But for not being much of a swimmer, I loved the smell of lake water. It's that funny earthy smell; plants, fish, mud and other stuff I probably really don't even want to know about. It's a scent like no other, a clean yet not so clean aroma, its birth and death and every living thing in between. It all takes me back to hot summer nights with Jien. Before, well, before he had to go away and my life went into the crapper for a long time.
Crouching down, I dipped in my hands and brought the water up to splash and trickle down my face. The coolness of it turned my skin all goose bumpy, as the sweat and dirt from a full days ride in the back of a convertible jeep/dragon made dirty brown rivelettes down my cheeks and onto my shirt. Hakkai would smile and be all polite, but still would give me a case of the guilts for messing up a fresh clean shirt.
"Goyjo," a soft voice calls. "Who was your Chinese laundry man yesterday?"
Oops, busted, caught with my hands red.
Guiltily, I stood, turned and saw Hakkai standing at the shore with the tea billy in his hand. "Uh, hi", oh that was brilliant. "What brings you down this way?" Once more, duh.
With an air of great patience, Hakkai looked at dirt spots on my shirt, then sighed and tossed the tea billy my way. "I'd come to get water for Sanzo's tea. Since you're already out there, fill the pot for me please."
The kettle flew over my shoulder and into deeper water with a loud plopping splash that wetted up the backs of my trousers. "Yuck," I grumbled, gingerly stepping deeper and getting my pants completely soaked after fished the thing up from where it sank. "I hate sleeping in damp clothes." I hated even worse the water that now lapped about my thighs. Covering a shiver, with what I'd hoped was a cocky swagger, I waded back to shore.
"Thank you," Hakkai said, setting the tea billy in the sand. "Your clothes will dry soon enough when we get back to camp and hang them near the fire.
"I'll come back after dinner," I said humbly. "And wash out my shirt. It'll be one less thing you have to do."
"No," he replied calmly. "Let me take care of that now."
"Wouldn't Sanzo-sama be jonesing for his tea with a Smith and Wesson if you don't go back right now?
"Probably," Hakkai admitted. "But," then his smile held a bit of mischief. "Patience is a virtue and the hallmark of a good monk."
"Good monk and Sanzo, words that go together like jumbo shrimp and military intelligence"
"Just give me the shirt."
Wordlessly I pulled it off and handed it to him.
Then Hakkai did something that made my jaw just about hit my toes. He tossed off his own clothes as easily as a kid strips the wrapper off a candy bar, and walked newborn naked into the lake.
He stopped about waist deep, held the shirt by the collar and proceeded to beat the water with it. Slap, splash, slap, splash, the noise had a familiar rhythm. Wash day so many years ago. The woman of our village would get together on Tuesdays and go down to the stream in some sort of female clothes baptism ritual; Mom would go too, but always stood off to the side. Apart but never a part, or so she'd always tell me as she walloped me every Tuesday, after wash day, because of me, the little red headed bastard who made her a social leper.
Now, I was cold and it wasn't just the night air on wet skin. No, I had to get away from that sound and the memories it dredged up. "Goyjo," I heard a voice call. Turning fearfully, once again, a cowering child on Tuesday wash day, only to have a wet shirt catch me full in the face. Well, back to being am adult, sporting a soggy hunk of laundry on his head.
"Sorry about that," Hakkai said in that overly sweet tone that just screamed the fact he wasn't the least bit sorry. "But I did give you fair warning."
"Some warning" I spat out the lake water that got in my mouth. "Goyjo" I called out in a cutesy little whisper. "Then splat!"
"Oh well," he replied. "At least it's clean." Then Hakkai turned, looked back at the lake and sighed. "The water felt so good, cool and refreshing. Let's take a quick swim Goyjo."
"Uh Dude," I said nervously, taking a step back. "I don't swim; I mean I swim like a rock. You know, like not at all, sink to the bottom blub blub. Or in plain Cantonese, Mandarin or I even know a little Manchurian, 'nix nien Frankenstein'.
That's when Haikki put on that face; the one that goes beyond puppy dog, lost kitten or humble monk (Sanzo not withstanding). It implies, hope, hurt and redemption all in one little glance. "Trust me," he said gently.
"Yeah but...."
"But trust me."
"But.."
"Believe."
I opened my mouth again to but some more, when Hakkai laid a finger to my protesting lips.
"Goyjo, I'm a good strong swimmer. You can hold on to my waist, we won't go out too deep. Just enough for a good paddle about and then back out for dinner."
"Well but...," I said lamely.
"My friend, you took me in 3 years ago, sick and dying when you didn't even know my name," Haikki laid down his aces one by one. "Defended me against a bullet happy monk and his monkey, mourned me dead and rejoiced in my rebirth. You had faith me then, have some faith in me now."
"Oh man, Hakkai" I whined like the Saru. "You know I can't say no after all of that."
"Yup," he said brightly.
"That was a low thing to do, using pure sentimentality like that."
"Indeed," Haikki smiled sweetly.
"Bastard."
"Bitch."
"Good one, I'm impressed."
"Sank you," he said with a low bow. "Shall we go?" And catching me by the elbow before I had the chance to change my mind and take off running the other way, Hakkai marched me into the lake.
And so, with my arms around Haikki, I swam. We went where I could touch bottom and other times where it was over my head. And not once did I sink nor did he let me go.
Later on that night, with my arms around Haikki, I swam, touched bottom, was out my head and went where both of us wanted me to go. And not once did I sink nor did he let me go.
A quarter moon hung low over the horizon, as the sky turned purple black at the death of day and the birth of night. Being that a town of any size was still 3 days off, and our transport had hissed, spit and refused to roll a centimeter further, we set up camp just off the road, in a wooded area, next to a lake. Enter then the nightly ritual; the Bakasaru whining about being hungry, Sanzo thumping him with his almighty fan and Hakkai building a fire to make dinner. And me? I got the hell out of the way, out of the reach of fans, pans and flailing monkeys.
Instead, I walked down to the lake. Kicking off my boots as I got to the waters edge, I wiggled my toes in an old rite of childish freedom and walked into the shallows just to my ankles. Not being a swimmer, that was more then deep enough. Funny, that the son of a water demon couldn't swim a stroke. Thanks Dad, owe ya one for that. Jien could swim, man he could dive and paddle to his hearts content. Me, all I did was sink. Jien tried to teach me and teach me and pulled me off the bottom more times then not.
But for not being much of a swimmer, I loved the smell of lake water. It's that funny earthy smell; plants, fish, mud and other stuff I probably really don't even want to know about. It's a scent like no other, a clean yet not so clean aroma, its birth and death and every living thing in between. It all takes me back to hot summer nights with Jien. Before, well, before he had to go away and my life went into the crapper for a long time.
Crouching down, I dipped in my hands and brought the water up to splash and trickle down my face. The coolness of it turned my skin all goose bumpy, as the sweat and dirt from a full days ride in the back of a convertible jeep/dragon made dirty brown rivelettes down my cheeks and onto my shirt. Hakkai would smile and be all polite, but still would give me a case of the guilts for messing up a fresh clean shirt.
"Goyjo," a soft voice calls. "Who was your Chinese laundry man yesterday?"
Oops, busted, caught with my hands red.
Guiltily, I stood, turned and saw Hakkai standing at the shore with the tea billy in his hand. "Uh, hi", oh that was brilliant. "What brings you down this way?" Once more, duh.
With an air of great patience, Hakkai looked at dirt spots on my shirt, then sighed and tossed the tea billy my way. "I'd come to get water for Sanzo's tea. Since you're already out there, fill the pot for me please."
The kettle flew over my shoulder and into deeper water with a loud plopping splash that wetted up the backs of my trousers. "Yuck," I grumbled, gingerly stepping deeper and getting my pants completely soaked after fished the thing up from where it sank. "I hate sleeping in damp clothes." I hated even worse the water that now lapped about my thighs. Covering a shiver, with what I'd hoped was a cocky swagger, I waded back to shore.
"Thank you," Hakkai said, setting the tea billy in the sand. "Your clothes will dry soon enough when we get back to camp and hang them near the fire.
"I'll come back after dinner," I said humbly. "And wash out my shirt. It'll be one less thing you have to do."
"No," he replied calmly. "Let me take care of that now."
"Wouldn't Sanzo-sama be jonesing for his tea with a Smith and Wesson if you don't go back right now?
"Probably," Hakkai admitted. "But," then his smile held a bit of mischief. "Patience is a virtue and the hallmark of a good monk."
"Good monk and Sanzo, words that go together like jumbo shrimp and military intelligence"
"Just give me the shirt."
Wordlessly I pulled it off and handed it to him.
Then Hakkai did something that made my jaw just about hit my toes. He tossed off his own clothes as easily as a kid strips the wrapper off a candy bar, and walked newborn naked into the lake.
He stopped about waist deep, held the shirt by the collar and proceeded to beat the water with it. Slap, splash, slap, splash, the noise had a familiar rhythm. Wash day so many years ago. The woman of our village would get together on Tuesdays and go down to the stream in some sort of female clothes baptism ritual; Mom would go too, but always stood off to the side. Apart but never a part, or so she'd always tell me as she walloped me every Tuesday, after wash day, because of me, the little red headed bastard who made her a social leper.
Now, I was cold and it wasn't just the night air on wet skin. No, I had to get away from that sound and the memories it dredged up. "Goyjo," I heard a voice call. Turning fearfully, once again, a cowering child on Tuesday wash day, only to have a wet shirt catch me full in the face. Well, back to being am adult, sporting a soggy hunk of laundry on his head.
"Sorry about that," Hakkai said in that overly sweet tone that just screamed the fact he wasn't the least bit sorry. "But I did give you fair warning."
"Some warning" I spat out the lake water that got in my mouth. "Goyjo" I called out in a cutesy little whisper. "Then splat!"
"Oh well," he replied. "At least it's clean." Then Hakkai turned, looked back at the lake and sighed. "The water felt so good, cool and refreshing. Let's take a quick swim Goyjo."
"Uh Dude," I said nervously, taking a step back. "I don't swim; I mean I swim like a rock. You know, like not at all, sink to the bottom blub blub. Or in plain Cantonese, Mandarin or I even know a little Manchurian, 'nix nien Frankenstein'.
That's when Haikki put on that face; the one that goes beyond puppy dog, lost kitten or humble monk (Sanzo not withstanding). It implies, hope, hurt and redemption all in one little glance. "Trust me," he said gently.
"Yeah but...."
"But trust me."
"But.."
"Believe."
I opened my mouth again to but some more, when Hakkai laid a finger to my protesting lips.
"Goyjo, I'm a good strong swimmer. You can hold on to my waist, we won't go out too deep. Just enough for a good paddle about and then back out for dinner."
"Well but...," I said lamely.
"My friend, you took me in 3 years ago, sick and dying when you didn't even know my name," Haikki laid down his aces one by one. "Defended me against a bullet happy monk and his monkey, mourned me dead and rejoiced in my rebirth. You had faith me then, have some faith in me now."
"Oh man, Hakkai" I whined like the Saru. "You know I can't say no after all of that."
"Yup," he said brightly.
"That was a low thing to do, using pure sentimentality like that."
"Indeed," Haikki smiled sweetly.
"Bastard."
"Bitch."
"Good one, I'm impressed."
"Sank you," he said with a low bow. "Shall we go?" And catching me by the elbow before I had the chance to change my mind and take off running the other way, Hakkai marched me into the lake.
And so, with my arms around Haikki, I swam. We went where I could touch bottom and other times where it was over my head. And not once did I sink nor did he let me go.
Later on that night, with my arms around Haikki, I swam, touched bottom, was out my head and went where both of us wanted me to go. And not once did I sink nor did he let me go.