Second Chance

Chapter 8 - Fatty and Lanky

The next morning saw a beautiful sunrise that marked a finger-snapping kind of day. Yet Jake got up half-asleep. The lower part of his body was still dozing; it seemed to be struck by the pleasures of lovemaking.

There was something else too but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall what.

“Hmm, nothing to fret about, it will come back to me eventually,” he mumbled as he lay down again. It was only then that he realized he was not in his own bed. And the ceiling looked rustic; it was covered with water reeds. He lay a little longer looking at the sunlight through the windows. It had such a way of creeping up on him that one would think the sunrise was committing an act of debauchery.

Then he felt a slight draft below him. Lifting up his blanket, he discovered to his great alarm that he was completely naked!

“Where are my clothes?” he cried, looking about wildly. When he saw them hanging on a wall hook, he shot out of bed and quickly dressed. He was fully awake now, and the memory of the previous night had returned. However, he couldn’t recall how he ended up in bed in the buff. And he found his mind flashing fleeting images of him making animalistic love to someone who looked like Mei-suet rather disturbing.

Perhaps Chin-ling could fill him in, he thought. To his consternation, she was not in the house. There was only a note underneath a plate of cooked tapioca on the table. It read:

Good morning, Jake.

Breakfast’s on the table. Sorry, tapioca is the only food left in the house. Hope you don’t mind.

Don’t wait up for me, I’ve gone hunting with my friend Yeti.

If you have a problem finding your way out of this place, just follow the river and you’ll reach the monastery. Please don’t mention me to the old monk – greatly appreciate it.

Pray you’ll find your wife’s killer soonest and solve her murder.

Chin-ling.

“Yeti?” Jake said to himself. “Sounds like a woman’s name. I suppose she must be one of Chin-ling’s many spectral friends.” He paused then broke into a half smile. “Frankly, I am in awe of her. No one can live the kind of life like she does.”

He then took a sit on the stool and eyed the tapioca with suspicion; he had never eaten this kind of food before and he bet his bottom dollar that it would not be as tasty as the steamed pork buns or fish congee that Ah Ying usually prepared for him. But he devoured it just the same. He had to – he was starving to death.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the house, satiated. The air was chilly. And white cotton clouds were sailing across the ocean blue sky. After shouldering his knapsack, he walked across the green turf. Upon reaching the riverbank, he saw to his right, the towering waterfall some distance away, its rapid, turbulent stream of crystal-clear water descending and splashing over many terraces then plunging into a bubbling basin before spilling over to the winding creek. He stood there for a moment and marvelled at the wondrous sight. At the same time, he decided to stop dwelling on the copulating images in his head – he was probably drunk and had a bad dream. Right now his top priority was to catch a certain Dim-Mak practitioner.

“Goodbye, Devil Falls,” he said at last, waving to the waterfall. “It’s time to put some miles behind me.” With that, he turned and made his way down the stream.

Unknown to the ex-gunman, Chin-ling was standing behind one of the many old gnarled trees adjacent to the cottage, away from view. She watched him set off and also heard him whistling a somewhat cheery tune. He soon disappeared into the stray shrouds of mist and the sound of his whistling got fainter and further away. Only then did she came out of her hiding place. In truth she wanted to avoid him; she was too embarrassed to own up to her taking advantage of him during his incapacitation. Harking back to that eventful morning when she first met Jake at the creek, she wondered again what quirk of fate brought them together. She knew he was Jake because Mei-suet, who was with her at that time, excitedly told her so. He was tall and handsome and she admitted to developing a mild crush on him. But under absolutely no circumstances did she see herself and Jake ending up in bed.

How am I going to explain all this to Mei-suet? Chin-ling asked herself as she staggered back to the house. She will surely be very disappointed with me. It didn’t take long for her to make up her mind: she would take this shameful episode to her grave.

She was about to go to the kitchen to boil water when something on the table caught her attention. Her forehead wrinkled. It was money. And there was another note – Jake had written the following:

Thanks for everything.

I left you some money as a token of my appreciation.

Also, I’ve never slept so soundly like last night – must be your wine. Great stuff!

Regards, Jake.

Chin-ling thanked her lucky stars. Jake was too inebriated to remember anything, she thought. I am safe. She then counted the cash. It amounted to fifty dollars. His kindheartedness had finally allowed her to stock the pantry with food. Her situation was looking up. So why was she still feeling rotten?

The stream was leading Jake down south, as his now-working compass had shown. The ground was descending steadily and the dark trees were drawing aside. He hurried forward, delighted with the thought of finally stepping out of the dreary forest. The light grew clearer. And the mist, although still rising like steam in the woods behind him, was almost gone. Ahead, he could see the stream flowing down in an almost straight line and cutting across a big green field some distance away. On the east side of the field was a path that led to the monastery and a cluster of houses. His heart rejoiced, and decided to take a breather. He had worn himself out after walking non-stop for four miles or so.

Needing to quench his thirst, he went down to the edge of the river and scooped up the cool water with his hands to drink. That was where he saw it: a huge human-like footprint – at least three times bigger than his – in the soft earth. Startled by his find, he instinctively drew out his Colt six-shooter and ran back up. Looking about him, he saw no one. But he realized now there was hardly a sound in the air. The birds had stopped singing. Only the soft gurgling noise of the flowing water could be heard. He didn’t like it.

The next moment he heard a faint growl. He pricked up his ears. It sounded like a bear’s and it seemed to be coming from depths far beyond the fog-veiled woods behind him. There was also the sound of running footsteps. And they were getting louder with each passing second. A sense of dread fell on him. Yet he did not budge – either he was a man of stout courage or he was just plain dumb. Taking up a shooting stance, he got himself ready to fire at whatever thing appeared in front of him.

For several breathless moments he stood there, gazing into the fog. All of a sudden, two little figures ran past him, one to his right and the other left. Both bald-headed and wearing identical grey shaolin uniforms, they appeared to be in their teens. And they were very short. Are they monks from the monastery? Jake mused.

“Run, mister, run!” the fat one on Jake’s left shouted. He had a thin squeaky voice. “There’s a monster chasing us!”

“W …What?” Jake asked, staring back at the fog. Something was coming. But what it was couldn’t be seen … yet. Gradually a form took shape. It was huge, almost house-high, and white-furred from head to foot. Its face had a bear-like appearance, its eyes were fiery red, while its long arms and short legs resembled that of an ape’s. And it was very angry.

Jake fired two shots, hitting the creature’s forehead. To his utter surprise, the bullets bounced off it. The only good thing that came out of his firing was it stopped the creature dead in its tracks. It rubbed at the spot where it got hit as if scratching an irritating mosquito bite. Thereafter it stared at Jake, bared its fangs, then growled at him; its rage had just climbed a couple of notches higher.

“Uh-oh,” Jake muttered, staggering back. He supposed this was the perfect time to take heed of the little monk’s advice: run!

He sprinted along the sandy path and soon caught up with the two young boys. Glancing back, he saw to his horror that the monster was closing in on them. “Head for the woods,” he cried, pointing to his left. “The trees will hide us!”

“No, no!” the fat one shouted back, in between his huffing and puffing. “Run straight ahead! Go to the light. She’s afraid of the light.”

“Put your gun away, mister,” the other one said, panting. His tone was squeakier. “Bullets and arrows are useless against her. She is invulnerable; her skin is thicker than a rock.”

Left with no other option, Jake replaced his gun and ran on. The brightness grew before them; sunbeams had pierced the treetops. The three of them ran faster. Yet with every step that they made, the creature seemed to advance even nearer. Jake felt the tremendous weight of terror getting heavier and heavier – he and the two monks were going to lose the race and with it, their lives!

Yet the very next instant, Jake heard the creature scream as if she was in great pain. He looked over his shoulder and saw that she had halted and ran back to the woods, her furry hands shielding her eyes – the blazing light was glistening down on her. In his desperation to escape the creature’s clutches, Jake hadn’t realize he had reached the open space under the deep blue sky; the sun was shining.

Relief finally prevailed, and they slumped to the ground completely exhausted. But even after a short rest, Jake could still feel his heart racing. And his hands were shaking; he had never been so frightened in his life. “What was that … thing?” he spoke at last, sitting up.

The two boys got up too, and sat cross-legged side by side. Then the fat one said, “She’s the Yeti, mister.”

“Yeti … as in the Abominable Snowman, or in this case, Snow-woman?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He remembered Chin-ling’s friend was also called Yeti and wondered whether her namesake was a coincidence.

“Yes, you got that right,” the fat one replied, his rosy-cheeked face breaking into a smile. “We’ve encountered her a few times before but we managed to evade her then. This time she spotted us. Luckily, she has a weakness: her eyes are very sensitive to light. That’s why we told you to run out of the dark woods. We would have been squashed to death if we stayed inside.”

“I see. What’s your name, by the way?”

“I am called Fatty, because, well, I am fat.”

“And I am Jake Lone,” the ex-gunman introduced himself, as he returned Fatty’s smile. He then turned to the other less fleshy one who had a few freckles across his cheeks and asked, “What about you? Shall I call you Freckles?”

“No, call me Lanky,” the lad replied, grinning.

“Lanky? Why Lanky?”

“Because I am taller than Fatty.”

“Oh, stop showing off,” Fatty said, sticking out his tongue at Lanky. “You are just one teeny weeny inch taller, that’s all.”

“And one minute older,” Lanky added with a smirk.

Jake, feeling a little better now, chuckled. He thought these two boys were funny. He further learned they were 14-year-old orphaned twins, and under the tutelage of Master Muk Long.

“I know your master,” Jake confided. “The last time I met him was a couple of days ago.”

Fatty acknowledged him with another smile. Then he said, “Yesterday we found a horse without a rider in our monastery. Master Muk Long suspected the rider was still in the woods, so this morning he instructed my brother and me to search for him or her in this section of the hedge. But I guess we must have gone too far deep in.”

Jake’s eyes lit up. “Is it a white stallion?”

“Yes,” Fatty answered, nodding.

“He is Flash, my horse,” Jake said. Then he fibbed, “He wandered off while I was … err … having a nap near the stream.”

“What were you doing in this part of the woods, Mr Lone?” Lanky asked, curious. “It’s a rather ominous place, you know.”

“I am a nature lover,” Jake answered, maintaining a straight face. “And I always thought this Yeti stuff was just a legend, like dragons and mermaids.”

“Well, you can strike the Yeti off your legend list after today,” Lanky said.

“Come on, let’s get back to the monastery,” Fatty interjected, getting up and hurrying forward. “Master will be pleased to know we have located the rider. Do you think he will reward us, Lanky?”

“Pardon the pun, brother of mine, but fat chance of that,” Lanky sighed, following him. Jake was behind them. “That stingy old man will just send us back to the kitchen as usual.” He sighed once more. “Cooking, singing, and playing with musical instruments every day … what a boring life. I wish I could learn kung fu like the other seniors.”

“Oh stop dreaming, Lanky,” Fatty said. “Master will never allow us both to practice the martial arts; he always tells us we are more suited being musicians and cooks than fighters.”

“Master is wrong,” Lanky retorted. “We are just as good as any of them. Stop walking for a minute and let me show you what I’ve learned from spying upon their training.”

When all eyes were on him, Lanky took a deep breath then executed the Praying Mantis fighting stance.

Fatty was impressed. He clapped.

Feeling proud of himself, Lanky followed up with his version of the Tiger fighting style.

Fatty clapped again.

But Jake, after watching Lanky’s demonstration of the various fighting techniques, suddenly had a realization – these kung fu-crazy boys might just know the identity of the Dim-Mak practitioners. So he fawned upon Lanky then asked, “How about showing us the Dim-Mak style next?”

Lanky paused and gawked at Jake. “Dim-Mak is not a fighting style, Mr Lone,” he eventually said. “It belongs to a different school of martial arts.”

“Oh, really?” Jake said, pretending to be an ignorant fool. “Anyway, do you know this? I heard it is a very lethal form of self-defence.”

“It’s a very ancient art that consists of striking certain vital points on the body to incapacitate or kill a person,” Lanky explained. “But these ‘touch-of-death’ techniques were lost through the ages. I don’t think anyone has any knowledge of it now.”

“Wait, hold on, there is someone who knows how to apply the Dim-Mak strike,” Fatty countered, stroking his chin as if he was deep in thought.

“Who?” Lanky and Jake asked in the same breath.

“Master Muk Long,” Fatty responded. “I overheard him explaining the Dim-Mak concept to a guest in his study while I was serving tea to them a few years ago. I even saw him demonstrating a couple of moves. But he stopped when he noticed me watching him and ordered me to leave the room. At that time, I thought it was just a trivial matter and forgot all about it until Mr Lone brought the topic up.”

“Interesting,” Jake commented, pleased that his little scheme was working like a charm. “And did your master impart his knowledge to any one of your seniors? How many of them are in the monastery, anyway?”

“Six,” Fatty answered. “And I don’t think so. In fact, except for that one time in his study, he has never mentioned a word of it.” Right after this, he stopped speaking and stared at Jake, his eyes tight and anxious. “Oh, Mr Lone, please don’t tell our master what we’ve told or showed you,” he said worriedly. “We will get in trouble with him …”

“My lips are sealed,” Jake cut in and assured Fatty. “You two can rest easy.” With that he took out two ten-dollar notes from his wallet and passed them to the boys. He had no ulterior motive for splashing the cash other than genuinely liking them a great deal. “Just a small reward for rescuing me from the Yeti.”

“Wow, ten dollars!” Lanky said, looking at the money in awe. “That’s too much. We can’t accept it.”

“Yeah, yeah, we can’t accept it,” Fatty echoed, but at the same time he was reluctant to part with it – he had never held so much money in his life.

“I insist,” Jake said, wearing a beatific smile.

“Well, if you so firmly say we should have it, I suppose we must,” Lanky replied happily. “You are a very nice, kind man, Mr Lone. Thank you so very much!” The two brothers grinned at each other and put the money in their trousers pocket.

It was almost noon, and a cold wind was blowing as the three of them continued to the monastery. The two boys were in a jolly good mood, chattering and playfully chasing each other like all 14-year-olds usually do. On the other hand, Jake was quiet – he had a lot on his mind: he knew the next person he wanted to meet was Master Muk Long. He expected him to answer his questions. He also knew he might not tell the truth to cover up his misdeed, which would confirm he was Mei-suet’s assassin.

What he did not know was whether he could control his hot-headed self not to blow the old monk’s brains out there and then before finding out why he did it.

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Author's note:

The next chapter will be uploaded on the 28th December 2018. See you all then. And Merry Christmas!