A Shaolin Easter to Remember
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Peter talked with the special forces bomb squad on his cell phone as he paced within the waiting area of the hospital.
"I don't care how long it takes. I want someone there now. Someone just tried to kill my father and me with a bomb and I want to know who that perp is. As soon as you're done with the pieces, I want them on my desk tagged as evidence."
"Peter Caine?"
Peter spun to meet the eyes of Dr. Sabourin.
"How's my father?"
"He's resting comfortably. We were able to stabilize him, surprisingly with his help. Your father is very strong. I have a few questions The paramedics said you put some kind of salve on your father'_s face and hands. What is it and how is it made?"
"Why do you want to know? Did I do something wrong?"
"On the contrary, whatever is in that salve is helping the burns to heal. You must have applied it quickly because there was no blistering."
"What about his eyes?"
"That is another matter. There appears to be no damage done but we really can't tell. The flash from the explosion, however, did affect his sight. Hopefully the blindness will be temporary. He will have to keep the bandages on for at least three weeks to prevent any more damage and so the skin around his eyes can heal. He was very lucky."
Peter swallowed the lump that had developed in his throat. "Can I see him?"
"Yes, but not too long. He is sleeping right now and I want him to rest."
The doctor led Peter down the hall and into his father's room. Peter's heart nearly broke at the sight of his father lying in the hospital bed with his face and hands covered in surgical gauze. Monitors were beeping, checking his vital signs. An IV bag was hooked up to one arm to provide fluids and pain medication. Peter quietly approached his father's bedside. The doctor pulled up a chair and Peter sat. Peter wished he could grasp his father's hand but the burns would not allow it. Instead he placed his own hands on his father's upper arm trying to have some physical contact to let him know he was there. Peter berated himself for not having the sense to recognize the danger. Tears silently fell down his cheeks at the thought that his father could be blinded for life. Peter was nearly startled when a bandaged hand tried to brush away the tears.
"Do not weep my son. It is only temporary."
"How did you know I was . . ."
"It is obvious to me. My eyes will heal. And do not worry that I will not be able to perform my duties as apothecary. If you will remember, your great-grandfather's teacher Master Po was blind and yet he was able to contribute many things."
Peter thought on the words he father said. Images of he and his father at the temple learning lessons came to him. One image came to mind in which Peter had asked his father when the line of Caine got started. His father asked him what prompted the question. Peter indicated that one of the masters was instructing them on genealogy and how important it was to know their ancestors.
"Who were our ancestors and how did they become Shaolin?"
Peter's father, at first, began to tell him of the history of what it was to be Shaolin and of Kwai Chang.
"No, I mean about the Caine line. How did the Caines become Shaolin?"
Kwai Chang thought about the question and then told his son about the first Kwai Chang Caine and how he had become Shaolin. He told how his grandfather earned the nickname "grasshopper," who had given him the name, and the circumstances behind it. Peter then asked about Master Po.
"How was Master Po able to teach him if he was blind?" asked Peter.
"Have you not listened? Think, lessons are not always as they seem and not always with your eyes can you see," replied his father.
Peter thought for a moment. Lessons came in many forms, not all from a classroom or exercise. Was this also a lesson?
"Because he could see beyond what his eyes could tell him?" was Peter's answer.
"Yes. Never underestimate anyone's abilities to see, my son. Even though Master Po was in darkness, he had sight beyond which brought him to the light. Understand?"
"I think so." Peter replied.
"Good, you are learning." And with that lesson, Kwai Chang Caine slapped his son on the cheek to drive the lesson home.
When Peter returned from his reflecting, he found that his father had fallen asleep. A smile spread across his face. If Master Po could do it, then I guess my father can, too,' he thought. Peter rose and kissed his father on the forehead above the bandage.
"I will return in the morning. I love you, Pop."
And with that, Peter left to try to get more answers to what was a deepening mystery. As Peter was heading home, he thought about the stories his father told him about Master Po. The stories had been handed down from his great-grandfather. It was said that people who were blinded could sense more with their other senses than others. Peter recalled how his foster mother, Annie Blaisdell, could navigate through the house without the use of a cane. It was as if she had built-in sensors that allowed her to feel where everything was within the room. Not only was she sensitive to where she was, but she also seemed to have a keen sense when something was wrong; almost as if she could read the energy around her. Would his father be able to sense the chi more easily because of his blindness?
Peter had seen some amazing things that his father could do; blowing out candles with the wave of his arm, unlocking doors just by pressing his thumb on the keyhole. Maybe if he took the fragments of the basket to him, he might be able to sense something. The worse possible answer that he could give him would be no. It was worth a shot. For now, Peter had no leads and this was the craziest thing he could think of to try to break through the nagging question, who would plant a bomb to kill a Shaolin priest and his son, 'Or at least to injure us' he thought. Maybe, this would shed some light on a very dark investigation.
End of Part 2
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2001.
This story cannot be reprinted or sold in any other form without strict permission from
the author. It is being distributed here solely for your enjoyment.
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