Pawns
"Kermit, take my mother home. See to it that she's safe. Grandfather and I are going after my father."
"Are you sure, kid? You may need backup. Plus, the police and fire department's going to need to know what happened here."
"Please, my grandfather and I have to do this alone," Peter said. "If we don't leave now, it may be too late."
"I can tell them what happened," Annie said. "You better let them go, Kermit."
"They're not going to like you leaving the scene, Peter." Kermit said.
"I know, but I don't know how long my father has. My grandfather and I have to do this."
Kermit nodded his understanding. Nothing he could say would stop the young Shaolin if he could. "I'll cover you as best I can, but you're going to have to come down to the station and make a statement later."
"We will, I promise. Just look after my mother."
Kermit led Annie to his car to wait for the police, fire and rescue, and paramedics while Peter and Matthew sped away in the Stealth. The least he could do for his friend was see that his mother was taken care of and checked out. He was as fond of Annie as any man.
'Good luck kid,' Kermit said to himself. 'I wish I could be there to watch your back. I hope you find your father alive.'
*****
It took nearly 20 minutes to get back across town to the cemetery near Chinatown. Peter again sent out his chi to search for his father's essence. A dread filled him, however, when there was no answering glow. Peter parked the car near the gravesite and both continued on foot. As they grew closer, Peter could feel nothing but an empty void.
'No," he whispered. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. Looking around, he spotted two shovels that had been thrown carelessly under some bushes. He grabbed one and started to dig.
"Stop, what do you think you're doing?" An attendant came forward.
"Saving my father," Peter said, his voice filled with emotion.
The attendant looked at the young man as if he was crazy. The man made a move to try to grab for the shovel, but Matthew came between them.
"Please, he must do this. It is necessary."
The attendant stared at the elderly man with astonishment. He had not known who had been buried in the grave. It was impossible to think that who was buried there was Chinatown's renown healer. Without a word the attendant grabbed the second shovel and began to dig. It wasn't long before both men had dug down to the right level. As Peter grabbed another shovel full of dirt, he struck something hard. He quickly brushed the dirt aside to find the simple coffin that had been lowered into the grave. Peter tried to lift the lid, only to discover it was sealed tight. The attendant pulled out a sharp pocket knife and started to run it along the edge when he noticed a strange look had come over the young man's face.
"No, allow me," Peter said as he reached to stop the attendant from using his pocket knife on the seal.
Peter settled into a calm state, even though it took all his effort. He again remembered how he asked his father if he would be able to open a lock or break a seal. His father had said that when the situation was desperate enough, he would be able to use that power. He also remembered the time when he had used it. It had been during the time when he was being hunted for the murder of Rebecca Calbert. When he was ready, Peter reached toward the coffin and ran his hands along the seal. There was an audible sound of the seal being released, and Peter looked down to see that it had indeed opened at his touch.
Peter slowly lifted the lid, afraid of what he would find. Laying inside in peaceful repose was Kwai Chang Caine. This time, it was no dummy to taunt them.
"Dad."
Peter called out softly, but still no answer came.
"Dad, it's me." Peter called again, this time cupping his father's face in his hand, only to find no warmth.
No!" Peter nearly collapsed at what he found, but instead lifted his father's body from the box of death and cradled him close. His father's form lay limp in his arms. No spark of life existed. His head hung loosely, and Peter did his best to support it by placing it on his shoulder. Peter clung to the form and buried his face in his father's torn and bloodied shirt. No, he wasn't dead. He just couldn't be dead. Deep racking sobs threatened to escape, but Peter held them back. He would not give into grief.
"It is too late. It is best to let the dead rest," The attendant said, trying to comfort a young man who would not be comforted. "Perhaps we should leave him here. I will cover him if you wish."
"I won't bury him here a second time," Peter said in defiance. "I'm taking him home so the community can say goodbye, so I can say goodbye."
Peter insisted that the attendant hold his father's body while he climbed out of the grave. He then reached down and lifted his father from the gaping hole and silently carried him to the Stealth, his grandfather following close behind also in silence.
When they arrived back at the Caine apartment, Peter had placed his father on the raised platform. Out of habit, Peter placed a pillow under his head. Seeing the condition of his father's clothes, Peter went to where Caine kept his silks. Carefully and silently Peter removed his father's travel worn clothing which had become bloodied and torn from his ordeal. Peter then went and gathered a basin of water, a sponge, and a large soft towel. This would be his final act as a son honoring his father. Slowly and silently he bathed his father's bare skin in much the same way that his father would do for him whenever he was sick with fever. Carefully he removed the dried sweat, blood, and grime until he was clean again. Tears fell from Peter's face as he saw what had been done. Several needle marks and bruises graced his father's arms. Other bruises could also be seen where his father had been beaten when he had lain helpless from the drugs that he had been given. After patting his skin dry, Peter dressed his father in his white silk crane shirt and grey paints. Peter shook his head in despair at the prospect of having to tell the community, but for now, another emotion threatened to shadow his reason. Peter picked up his father's limp hand in his and spied the ring that was part of the Caine legacy. He silently slipped it off his father's finger and placed it on his own hand. He then leaned over and kissed his father's forehead for what he believed to be the last time.
Silently, another figure stood in the background, tears also streaming from his face. 'It is not right. A father should not out live a son,' Matthew thought. 'Peter will need me more than ever.'
Matthew was brought out of his thoughts at the sudden movement of his grandson. Looking into Peter's face, a sudden chill went through him. Fear for his grandson's soul came to him when he realized just what Peter was about to do.
"Peter, where are you going?"
"To end the life cycle of my father's murderer."
"You cannot do this. Your father would not want you to. It is not the Shaolin way."
"No, but it is my way."
"But you do not know where this man is."
Peter held up a note that he had found with his father's body. Matthew had not been aware of it.
"He wants a showdown, Grandfather. He's going to get one."
Peter tossed the paper to his grandfather and continued to proceed from the room not before stopping in front of a shelf to pick something up. His hand brushed across the object. He then clutched it to his breast and thought about the day he was able to return it to its owner. A look of determination appeared on his face Then concealing the object in his jacket and without another word, he left the apartment.
Matthew opened the note and read its contents. Images of his grandson lying dead at someone's feet came to him. There had to be a way to stop him., but Matthew was not quick enough. He heard the sound of Peter's Stealth as he drove from the alley. Matthew shook his head in despair and walked over to sit beside his son. He lifted Kwai Chang's limp hand in his, but soon became aware that something was not what it seemed.
'Oh, Peter if only you would have waited just five more minutes,' he thought.
End of Part 14
Alisa Joaquin & Linda Schwartz Copyright@2000.
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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