The Space Within
Jason McDonald stared at the Shaolin who rested in the back seat of his car. How was it possible? Just a few short days ago, someone had said that Caine had been killed, something about an explosion at the temple. To find him here and alive was inconceivable, and yet, he could not deny what his eyes were telling him.
"I . . . I heard that you had been killed," he said, his words stammered out.
"No," Caine said, shaking his head. "But many had been."
"What about your son, what's his name, Peter?"
Caine grew silent and his eyes were downcast, hiding their deep sadness still etched in their depths.
Without having to say a single word, Jason understood the meaning of that silence. It was one that he had seen and felt from others many times in the course of his career, both as a medical doctor and a veterinarian. And it was also something that he could relate, having faced it himself, just five years ago. "I'm truly sorry."
Caine slumped further in the seat, as if he could shrink deeper into its depth, the ache in his heart becoming just as pronounced as the wound in his side.
"You didn't expect me to come along did you?" McDonald observed. "You allowed yourself to get hit."
Caine raised his head at that statement, a frown furrowing his brow. What was the man saying? That he wanted to get hurt, that he wanted to die? Denial came to his lips at McDonald's words, but Caine knew the truth in his own heart. The words never came as he realized that McDonald was right. The space within had become filled with the anguish screams of the dead and the vision of his son being crushed by the beam, falling over and over in his mind. That same beam had crushed his heart, perhaps beyond repair. There was nothing left for him, and yet, as a Shaolin, there were things left that needed tending, but Caine could not see them. In his blindness, he had stepped within the path of that moving car, just enough. He knew the driver would not see him until it was too late. In the driver's mind, that person would have thought they had struck some kind of large animal, because by then the snow had been falling at its thickest. In Caine's mind, he would have found the act fitting, one more act of violence to stop his aching heart from beating. If only nature had allowed him to die, but it would seem, nature had other plans for him still.
The silence between the two men was deafening. Only the sound of the engine could be heard. When Caine spoke it was with deep raking sobs, though he did his best to try to keep them from overwhelming his being. "You are right. I allowed the car to hit me. All I wished for at that moment was to end the pain of my loss."
Jason McDonald listened to Caine's admission without judgement. It would do the man little good if he were to say how wrong Caine's actions had been. Besides, the Shaolin already knew that. It was his job to heal the man's other wounds. The doctor now veterinarian pulled up to the clinic that was also his home. He assisted Caine from the car and quickly got him inside. He helped the Shaolin onto an examination table, one that was used for larger, heavier animals, then proceeded to take his gloves and coat off.
"Let's take a look at that wound."
As Jason McDonald carefully pulled the matted cloth away from Caine's skin, his eyes became narrow. The wound wasn't as bad as he had feared. In fact, it looked like the wound was more days old rather than hours old. There was bruising around the area, but the gash itself was nearly closed. McDonald, though, worked in silence to clean the area and to put a bandage over what remained so no infection would set in. "I don't understand. There was a lot of blood on the ground but the wound is almost healed."
Caine gave a deep sigh, "An obedient body accomplishes much when the mind is in control. Perhaps deep down, I was not ready for death."
"Perhaps there is something you're supposed to accomplish before that happens."
Caine stared at Dr. McDonald.
"I mean, if death isn't ready to take you, there's got to be a reason for you still being alive."
"You may be right, but I do not know what that may be."
"Maybe your son didn't die in the explosion."
"I saw him fall. A large beam fell on him," Caine stated.
"If death doesn't want you yet, maybe its telling you that your still needed as a priest."
Caine thought on McDonald's words. He knew them to be true, but how was he going to be a priest when he felt so much anguish inside. What did life hold for him? To wonder in a wilderness as his grandfather had done? Perhaps that was all that was left to him. Caine felt the pouch at his side and the journals that rested there. Who would read them when he was gone? He had no son to pass on what he had learned. Twelve years of his life had been taken from him with no one to share them, his wife gone, Peter too. His father, gone since he had been a boy of 15. There was no one in his life now. All that was left was his duty as a Shaolin priest, perhaps that was all he ever had.
End of part 2
Alisa Joaquin 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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