Characters: Lo Si, Peter and Kwai Chang Caine

Timeline: Same night as their return from the First Temple

Story: Peter reflects back on what had happened at the first temple and what might have happened to Mai Chi. In that reflection, he learns that he has more ties to the past than he ever dreamed.

Author: Alisa Joaquin

Disclaimer: All characters are borrowed except those created by me. All other characters (from KF:TLC and we know who they are) are property of Warner Brothers. I promise to give them back when I am done with them (of course I do not know how long that will be.) I give permission to archive.

Peter continued to sip his tea as his father played his flute. Lo Si had lapsed into silence, and Peter was aware that he was being watched.

"You are troubled, young Caine."

No longer surprised by Lo Si's perception, Peter did his best to explain what puzzled him. "I'm still somewhat confused. I know I never told the old apothecary my name, but he called me Peter. Are you sure that wasn't you back then?"

Lo Si gave a knowing smile, "It is wise not to question the ways of nature. Each follows a destiny set before him. Perhaps he was my ancestor."

"But how would he know my name?"

Lo Si gave Peter a familiar shrug, one that always seemed to frustrate the young man, but he knew that he could not reveal all his secrets, at least not yet.

"I'm also puzzled by something that apothecary said. He said that Mai Chi would survive, as will the Shaolin, and through the line of Kwai Chang. What did he mean by that?"

Lo Si pursed his lips. He did not know if he should tell Peter, if he would be ready to listen.

"Please, Lo Si, I must know. What happened to Mai Chi after we returned?"

Lo Si turned toward Kwai Chang Caine looking for assistance. Would this knowledge be best coming from a friend or from a father?

Caine lowered his flute and stared at the Ancient, understanding the unspoken request. Perhaps it was time for Peter to know more about his family's history. He had made such inquiries of his own father when he was a boy, but did not learn until years later just where the origin of his name had come from. He had only known that he had been named for his grandfather, but he had not known who his grandfather had been named after. The only history he had been aware of regarding his grandfather was that his father, Thomas Henry Caine, had married a beautiful Chinese woman whom he had fallen deeply in love with after his first wife had died from influenza. His first son, Daniel, had been about three years old. And because of the marriage, his own father, Henry Raphiel Caine, had driven Thomas out of his home, keeping Thomas' son, Daniel. The only possible refuge left to Thomas was to return to China with his wife to live with her parents. His father never knew until years later that she had been pregnant with Thomas' soon to be second son, Kwai Chang Caine. Kwai Chang would never know until years later that he had relatives across the sea in America. Any information that his father might have left him was thought destroyed when a warlord came into the village they were living in and killed Kwai Chang Caine's parents, grandparents, and burned what remained of their home. The only refuge left for his grandfather was to enter the Shaolin Temple. If Master Kan had not allowed him that refuge, Kwai Chang Caine might have starved and ceased to exist. Matthew Caine might never had been born and there would not be a Kwai Chang Caine today or a Peter Caine to ask his father questions, questions that still waited to be answered.

Kwai Chang Caine approached his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We shall talk tomorrow. Bring your great-grandfather's journal. We shall learn the answer together."

Peter stared back at his father. This was an unexpected response, one that Peter would certainly take advantage of. One unvoiced question remained. What did his father know about Mai Chi that he was not telling?

*****

The next day Peter returned to his father's apartment above the warehouse with the requested journal. The previous night, Peter had leafed through its pages, trying to make head or tails out of the Chinese script. Though Peter could still speak Chinese, his ability to read the characters had waned. He realized if he was going to be of any help to the Chinese community as a Shaolin cop, he was going to have to brush up on his knowledge on the written Chinese form. Even his father's journal was written partially in the language, especially the part that covered his fifteen years of wandering. If he truly wanted to know where his father had been and done, he was going to have to relearn the written language. Still, he could not help but wonder, as he grasped his great-grandfather's journal, what was inside these pages that could help him to decipher what had happened to Mai Chi?

"Pop? You here? I have the journal."

Kwai Chang Caine smiled as his son called out to him. They both knew that Peter's awareness had been heightened by his training at the Tao Temple, but he could not help smiling at the fact that this particular age-old tradition still remained. Even in their temple home Peter had call out to find him rather than use his abilities to simply feel his presence and know where he was. Perhaps it was Peter's way of filling up the silence and alleviating any anxiety he may be feeling at not finding him immediately.

"I am here, my son," Caine called out.

Peter entered the large meditation space that also served as a workout space across from the apothecary room. His father had been lighting candles and had placed a mat on the floor. A low table had been placed by the mat, and Peter could see that a large bamboo tube rested there. Peter recognized the tube as being one that would hold old scrolls from the temple and questioned where it might have come from.

"Ping Hai had retrieved it from the temple," Caine replied, answering Peter's unvoiced question.

"Ping Hai certainly did a lot before he died," Peter said somewhat wryly then becoming more serious. This is like that cabinet that holds the sword and the book of Shambhala. Apparently he made sure that many of the artifacts at the temple had survived. I wonder how he managed that? I mean, he didn't have that much time after I was sent to the orphange. I heard he died a week later. But then again, there's a lot you can accomplish in a week, I suppose."

Caine did not respond to Peter's last statements but chose to change the subject. "Please, sit beside me. I will do my best to try to explain. May I have the journal?"

Peter handed his father the worn leather journal and watched as his father leafed through the pages looking for a particular entry. As soon as he found it, Caine began to read.

"Master Kan said that I must leave the country, but I do not know where to begin. I cannot leave without seeing the home of my parents one more time." Kwai Chang Caine paused in his narrative, then continued. "I have found it, the scroll that my grandfather was working on. How it survived the warlord's destruction is a miracle. I will give it to the old apothecary. He was a friend of my grandfather's. He will keep it safe for me. I must leave. The soldiers are coming. Perhaps one day I will return and reclaim it." Caine again stopped and turned to another page. "Tommorrow I leave for America aboard a merchant ship. This journey has not been an easy one. Solders have hunted for me for days. I do not know where I will go or whether they will follow me. I will do what I must. Rest, seek work, and help those that I can. It will be my penance. Perhaps I can persuade others that there is another way other than killing, even though I have killed myself. Perhaps I will seek out Lordsville, the village where my father was born. Perhaps someone there will be able to tell me if I still have family."

Caine laid his grandfather's journal down and picked up the bamboo tube. Markings on the side indicated that the tube contained a medical text of some kind.

"This is the scroll that my grandfather referred to. It was placed in this tube to disguise its contents. The apothecary had a son who brought the tube with him to America to give to my grandfather. Instead, it was placed with other documents that required preservation when a temple was built, in northern California, by monks who escaped the emperor's wrath. My father discovered the scroll and left it in their care."

"I never knew that the temple was that old."

"The temple was built during my grandfather's time, after he had been told by a young man who had been sent to kill him that all the Shaolin masters had been murdered. The young man was my uncle, and my grandfather's first born son."

Peter stared at his father in shock. He watched as Caine again leafed through his grandfather's journal and found another passage.

"My son was killed today. He took a bullet that was meant for me. The same day that I should break the emperor's spell that he was under and begin to truly know my son, is also the day that I have lost him. How many more lives must pay for the shame that I had caused with the death of the emperor's nephew? Will I ever know peace? I am alone. Perhaps it is my destiny to be alone."

"I guess he was wrong there, since obviously we're here." Peter said wryly.

"Yes."

"I hadn't realized how old the temple was," Peter said. "Or who built it. I always assumed it was your grandfather."

"No. Though he learned of the temple's existence, and that many masters had survived. It was his wish to return to China some day. He wanted to show my father the land that had raised him."

"So, tell me, Pop. What's in this tube and why go through all that trouble to protect it?"

Without another word, Caine pulled from the tube a yellowed ricepaper scroll. He held the scroll out to his son with reverence, as if he was holding a sacred treasure from the first dynasty. Peter took the scroll and untied the ribbon that bound it together. He carefully unrolled it. Chinese characters, lines, and intricate artwork graced the page.

"Pop, you know I can't read Chinese. It's been too many years since the temple."

"Now is a good time to relearn."

"But, what am I looking at? Can't you give me a hint?"

"It is another part of our heritage, my son. And it is up to us to continue it."

"I don't understand," Peter said confused.

"You will." Caine rose from the floor and briefly left the room. He returned carrying a thick book and handed it to Peter.

"A Chinese-English dictionary?" Peter questioned.

"What better way to begin relearning what has been lost?" Caine said with a shrug.

Peter let out a short laugh and shook his head. "This is going to take forever to translate."

"That which is worth pursuing is worth doing. I shall help you, my son. We will start here." Caine pointed near the end of the scroll where he could see three characters. "We will use these characters as our guide. It should be simple to decipher. Think of it as trying to decode a secret message, my son."

When his father mentioned that, Peter could not help but think back as a boy pretending with his friends. Though parts of it had been pleasant, he also remembered that his father had been very angry, no, more like frightened, for some reason.

***Flashback***

Caine came across the sheet of paper taped to the column. His brow furrowed and he pursed his lips in anger. Spotting the initials, he knew immediately who had posted the offending message. He ripped the paper from the column and headed toward his son's sleeping chamber.

"Peter," he began, his anger barely in check. He held up the sheet without saying another word.

"Pop, I . . ."

"Do not call me that. I want an explanation."

"The guys and I were just pretending we were . . . " Peter's voice went down to a whisper. "Sing Wah and sending secret messages . . ."

"Enough. You will never speak that name in this place again. These symbols are not to be used. They will only bring trouble."

Peter hung his head in shame and whispered a tearful, "I'm sorry, father."

Caine could see that Peter was truly ashamed of his actions and his anger dissipated. He sat on the bed and comforted his son. "Peter, you do not know what could happen. Playing with this can be very dangerous."

Peter looked up and saw something in his father's eyes that he had not seen before, genuine fear.

"I promise I won't do it again."

***End of Flashback***

And he hadn't. In fact, he had told his friends about what had happened and warned them that it could cause dire consequences. Most of his friends complied, all except one. Shortly after that, that particular boy ran away from the temple and was never heard from again.

"Pop, are you sure this is safe?"

"If you are remembering a certain conversation we had back at the temple, do not worry my son. There are no secret messages or forbidden symbols here."

Peter picked up the dictionary and began leafing through the pages to search for each of the characters represented. As each character began to reveal themselves, something in the way the page had been laid out began to take shape in Peter's mind.

"Pop, I know what this is."

Caine turned toward his son, not saying a word, but a pleased expression crossed his face. He had been waiting for his son to discover what he already knew.

"It's a genealogy chart. These three characters. I know what they are. The third one clinched it for me."

"Tell me, my son."

"They didn't have a symbol for that one so they used the closest equivalent. It says cane, like in a walking stick or sweet sugar cane. Those three characters are supposed to be your grandfather's name, Kwai Chang Caine. And look," Peter pointed to other symbols that were exactly like the first two. "There are at least five other people who were named Kwai Chang. Peter followed the pattern until he came to the very first name on the scroll. A second name was beside that one.

"Pop, is this who I think it is?"

"Yes. That name belongs to our ancestor, the first Kwai Chang."

"From the first temple right?"

Yes."

Peter looked at the second name beside his ancestor's name curiously. He could almost figure out its meaning. Only the second word was more familiar to him, a word that also meant 'vital life force,' Chi. Peter pondered the word then suddenly it dawned on him just whose name he was staring at. Mai Chi. So that's what the ancient apothecary had meant. Mai Chi had become the mother of the line of Kwai Chang. A part of her flowed through every generation, whether from son to daughter to son, and from his great-grandfather to his grandfather and so forth to him. Mai Chi was a part of him. She would remain with him, even to the day he died. Tears filled Peter's eyes as he realized that his love for Mai Chi was indeed a thing that would last forever.

"Are you all right , my son?"

"Yeah, Pop. Everything's fine, now.

End