Temple: A New Journey Begins
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"We just came for a visit," Vance replied. "We heard you had pneumonia and . . ."
"Don't lie to me Vance Cavanaugh," Rachel interrupted. "You're up to something."
"Now Mom, they're just here to see the shrine and to see how you are doing," Sam tried to redirect the conversation. "She's not herself lately. Please, let me take care of things while you two take a seat in the living room."
"Please, allow me," Caine stated. "Rachel, everything is all right. Vance is here as a friend. He is not the man you remember."
While Caine spoke to Rachel, he pulled from his satchel, a small leather pouch and handed it to Sam. "Boil some water and add a teaspoon of herbs from this pouch." Caine continued to talk to Rachel. "The man you remember is gone. This is his grandson."
Rachel remained frozen in place, her mind clouded with the onset of old age. She shook her head and rubbed her left temple as if trying to sooth a headache. "I . . . I cannot think. Where's Michael? Michael? Michael!" Rachel began wondering from room to room, calling for a man who was not there.
"Who's Michael?" Vance questioned.
"Michael Lowery, my father. He's been dead for many years."
"She has Alzheimer's. There is a cure, but it is expensive."
"How do you know about it?"
"I spent some of my time working in a hospital. The herbs that I handed you will help relieve the symptoms. She must drink the tea at least three times a day. It will help to keep the pathways clear."
At that moment, another disaster struck. A monk came raising into the Lowery home, his arms waving frantically.
"Ling Chung, what is it?"
<He is dead! He is dead!>
"Ling Chung, speak English, I can't understand a word you're saying"
<He is dead. Who would do this? He is a good man.>
"He is saying 'He is dead and who would do this. He is a good man.'" Caine switched to Chinese. <I do not understand. Who is dead?>
<Another Shaolin, one who just arrived from China to pay his respects. He was very old. He said he knew Master Lowery and Peter Caine.>
<Another Shaolin? How many have died?>
<Three, now it is four.>
<How long as this been going on?> Caine asked.
<Four weeks.>
Caine grew silent then turned toward Sam. "What do you know if this?"
"I . . . I don't know what you're talking . . ."
"Do not lie to me Uncle Sam. You know of these deaths. Tell me, why are the Shaolin dying?"
"I . . . I don't know."
Continues with Part 6
Alisa Joaquin Copyright@2003.
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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