Second Chance

Chapter 19 - One More Dance

From a distance, the waterfall looked like a silver stream, silently cascading over grey rocks and boulders before landing into a big pool below. As Jake drew closer, the sound of the pounding water increased, slowly pressing in onto him and conjuring strong emotions in his brain – this was his second time here yet he remained spellbound by its beauty.

It was late afternoon and the shadows of the trees had now become longer. The cold air was filled with a scent of moss and lichen. Jake picked a spot near the edge of the woods and sat on the short, green grass. And there he reminisced about his sifu – it had been a long while since his last pleasant memory of the old man. Perhaps his recent death had something to do with it. He recalled their early years together when he was being trained as a gunslinger. Lau Beng, sitting in his old rocking chair, would be smoking and blowing smoke-rings while imparting knowledge about the proper way of holding a revolver and firing at the target. And with every successful hit, they would go out and celebrate at their favourite nightclub with fine wine and beautiful women. Jake sighed, letting the joy soak right into his bones and heart – those were happy times for them.

Then at night, as they sat by the fireplace, his sifu would tell him tales of how he miraculously survived many attempts on his life by his enemies, particularly a time during the end of the Boxer Rebellion. When the revolt failed, all the Boxers had been rounded up and beheaded by the combined foreign troops. Only he and a few others managed to escape the slaughter, by hiding inside one of the many palaces in the Forbidden City through a tunnel in the wall. Prior to the revolt, the Empress Dowager Cixi who was secretly supporting the Boxers, had it specially-built in order for them to sneak in and hold meetings with her.

Nothing can kill me, I have the nine lives of a cat, Lau Beng would always boast to him.

Jake sighed again, this time in sharp sorrow – it appeared that his sifu had finally used them all up.

“Mind if I join you?” a female voice from behind asked.

He was so lost in reverie that he didn’t hear Chin-ling approaching. Her sudden appearance jolted him but he was swift to regain his composure. “Oh sure,” he replied, grinning a broad perfect-white grin. “So, how’s Little Lung doing? Is he on the mend?”

Chin-ling nodded. “I’ve staunched the bleeding and cleansed the wound with crushed Nightingale leaves in boiled water. He is resting now. The two boys are with him, sharing his grief over the deaths of their colleagues.” She sighed. “A sad, pitiful sight – I had to leave the room before I broke down too.”

Jake shrugged – the grieving game seemed to be all the rage today, he thought. Firmly believing that a change in the otherwise sombre atmosphere would do them a world of good, he began by asking: “What are Nightingale leaves?”

“These leaves can only be found here in Devil Falls,” Chin-ling replied, sitting beside him. “It comes from a kind of healing plant that grows in the fissures of the rocks along the riverbank. I named it Nightingale, as in Florence Nightingale who was one of the most famous women in medicine.”

“Aptly named,” Jake concurred with her. “And thank you for your help. Little Lung owes you his life.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chin-ling said. She then looked about her. “Where is your other friend, the one you call Mun Gor?”

“He’s over there,” Jake replied, pointing to the spot beside the cottage; Wing-mun was sitting on the wooden bench, his head resting on the table. There was also a pot of wine and a cup near him.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is he drunk?”

“Yup. And dozing.”

“Didn’t you tell him about the potency of my wine?”

“I did, but he didn’t believe me.”

“How many cups did he drink?”

“Four and a half.”

“Oh, how disappointing – the record still stands at nine,” she replied, winking at Jake.

“Oh, please,” Jake pleaded, smacking his forehead in mock horror. “That is one episode I’d dearly like to forget. I was a total mess after that. Never will I touch your wine again. Never in my life!”

Chin-ling chuckled. “Apart from the drinking, did you remember anything else that night?”

There was a sudden silence. Jake looked at her, a slight frown running across his face. She immediately regretted raising that question. Me and my big mouth, she cussed silently at herself. If he remembers the lovemaking, I will kill myself right here and now! Her stomach shifted uneasily as she waited for his response.

“No, nothing,” he said at last. “What actually happened when I was in the room, Chin-ling? I woke up naked the next morning, you know.”

“Beats me,” she lied, releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding. The colour returned to her face. “Perhaps you were too sloshed to remember undressing yourself as you did spill some wine on your clothes. Anyway, let’s forget about it, shall we? Sorry to have brought the topic up.”

“If there’s any apologising to be done, it should be from me,” Jake said, smiling. “I hope I’d conducted myself well in front of you throughout my drunkenness that night.”

“Oh, you did, you did,” Chin-ling replied – she was referring to his s****l prowess, of course – returning his smile with a mischievous one.

Their chitchatting was interrupted when Jake noticed Yeti emerge from the woods on the other side of the stream.

“Your friend’s back,” he announced to Chin-ling. “I guess she has completed her task successfully. I wish I was there to see the reaction of the soldiers – they must have peed their pants when they saw her.”

The young woman saw the creature and gave her a wave. Yeti acknowledged her with a couple of low growls then went back into the woods. “Yes, you guessed correctly,” she replied. “The sheer size of her intimidates everyone, including me when I first met her. I just stood there – scared stiff. When she brought her face so close to me that I could smell her breath, I thought I was good as dead. That was how I noticed her eyes: they were profoundly sad – I found out later she was the last of her kind and that she was feeling lonely. I didn’t know what came over me then, but somehow I managed to extend my hand to her as a gesture of friendship. Surprisingly, she smiled her acceptance – I suppose there was a special bond between us. Our friendship began that day.”

“How do you communicate with each other?”

“The way people communicate with their pet dogs,” she told him. “Yeti is really a gentle and intelligent creature. Unfortunately, she has been badly misunderstood by the townsfolk and their provocations were always met with violent reactions from her. Unless you have a death wish, you wouldn’t want to be in the same room with Yeti when she blows her top.”

Jake shuddered, recalling his shooting at the creature. He knew her temper only too well.

Dinner was a quiet affair. The monks had brought provisions for the journey, and Fatty and Lanky, determined to prove themselves worthy, had volunteered to do the cooking. There were meat, eggs, and vegetables on the table; a normal meal for the men, but for the impoverished Chin-ling, it was rather sumptuous. Also, in observing something of a lady’s decorum in front of the men, especially the two boys, she wore a more decent gown, one that wasn’t too revealing.

As there were not enough chairs for everyone, Little Lung, his chest heavily bandaged, sat on the floor, his back against the wall; he felt the pain lessen, but the life had yet to return to his right arm, and he couldn’t use his hand. The twins, sitting on either side of Little Lung, helped to feed him. Wing-mun, still feeling a little woozy, sat next to them. Only Jake and Chin-ling were sitting at the table.

Jake noticed the monks had kept to themselves throughout the meal, often giving Chin-ling a wary look. He knew they still had doubts about her so he decided to clear their misconception once and for all.

“Would you like to hear a story, kids?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Lanky and Fatty nodded with enthusiasm – they were game for a good yarn anytime.

Jake smiled and got down to the floor with them. “Before I begin, do you know what a n***o is?”

“Of course we do, we’re not that ignorant, you know,” Lanky proudly replied. “They come from Africa and they are easily recognisable by their black-coloured skin.”

“They are also tall and their hair is thick and curly,” Fatty added.

“Yeah, that too,” Lanky said, giving his brother a thumbs-up. He then turned back to Jake. “Why you ask?”

“Oh, just testing your general knowledge,” Jake answered. “And I am afraid you two are only half-right.”

The twins were surprised to hear that.

“What did we miss?” Lanky inquired.

Wing-mun and Little Lung, after an inquisitive glance at Jake, pricked their ears up.

“There is another kind of n***o,” Jake began, “and they have two eyes, two legs, and two arms. They can also talk, walk, sleep, and eat. In fact they are just like any other n***o, except they are white.”

“White Negros?” Lanky asked again, looking bewildered. “This is news to us.”

“Yes,” Jake continued. “They are born with a genetic defect: their bodies lack a pigment that gives colour to the skin, hair and eyes. As a result, they have pale skin and white hair. The doctors named this congenital disorder: albinism. It’s not only the people in Africa who are affected, but in all parts of the world. Because they look different, they were given unwarranted names like dundus in Africa which means a ghost, cockroaches in Holland, freaks in Britain, and witches here in China. Albinism is in fact, inherited; it’s not a sickness or a disease.” He paused, and pointed at Chin-ling. “Perhaps now you can understand why I say our host is not a witch. Her case, however, is rather a severe one – her skin cracks when exposed to intense heat.”

“You sure know your stuff, Jake,” Wing-mun praised, clapping. “Good for you!”

“Thanks, Mun Gor,” Jake replied, looking pleased. “Actually, I only knew about it when I came across an article about albinism in a science journal. Same goes for her psychic powers – I read that some people are born with them, and they don’t have to be an albino.”

“What about all those dead people in the woods?” Little Lung asked, staring at Chin-ling. “Weren’t you the one who murdered them?”

“I didn’t murder them,” Chin-ling objected. “General Tang is the real culprit, but he told everyone I was the one responsible for the killing.”

“I can vouch for her,” Jake said, coming to her defence. “They were r**e victims and opponents of the general. I’d always scoffed at the supernatural, but that changed the other night when I saw with my very own eyes their souls … or whatever you call it … outside this cottage wailing before Chin-ling to help them avenge their deaths.”

Lanky and Fatty felt their hearts racing.

“G … Ghosts … here?” Fatty stammered out.

“Don’t worry, little ones,” Chin-ling reassured them. “They won’t be visiting me tonight; they know I have guests.”

The three monks, after listening to Jake and Chin-ling’s explanations, began to see the woman in a new light. Little Lung, with the help of the twins, stood up and bowed to her. “We are truly sorry for antagonising you in the past,” he said in an apologetic tone. “The townsfolk had given us a mandate to capture you. On several occasions, our late master did try to persuade them to change their minds but to no avail. I don’t know why he did that. Perhaps he knew you were not the killer.” When he had done saying what he wanted to say, he sat down again.

“There is another reason for your master’s action – the more valid one,” Jake revealed. “Sooner or later the truth will be known. Might as well be now.” He paused and looked at Chin-ling for her response; she nodded her approval. “I suppose this will come as a big shock to you all: Master Muk Long had a well-kept secret – he had a daughter. She is still alive. In fact she is here and sitting right in front of you.”

Jake paused once more. He was waiting to see the reactions from the monks and Wing-mun. Yup, just what he’d expected: all of them had their eyeballs popping out of their sockets, and their jaws dropping to the floor. He grinned; perfectly funny.

When the men regained their bearings, Chin-ling confirmed her relationship with the old monk and related to them what had happened.

“Simply astounding,” Wing-mun commented when Chin-ling finished her story. “Never for a second did it cross my mind that the old monk had a family.” He then went for his cigarette box in his coat pocket, intending to take a puff; it was empty. He groaned – he had smoked the last stick earlier this afternoon.

“Correction: not one, but two families,” Little Lung blurted out, to the surprise of everyone. He looked at Lanky then Fatty. “Master didn’t pick you two at random to be his students. You are really his sons; your mother died in childbirth. He told no one but me about his blasphemy. He was going to tell you the truth when the time was right, but I guess time didn’t want to wait for him.”

Fatty’s face was washed blank; his brain had stopped functioning. And Lanky stared at Little Lung, opening and shutting his mouth without a sound.

They finally slipped out of their trance-like state when Chin-ling said with a smile, “Looks like you two and I are related.”

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Lanky replied, returning her smile.

Fatty, the emotional hurricane inside him now churning in full force, hugged her tight.

Wing-mun stood up and gave a joyful cry: “Hey, I just love family reunions – they are so touching. This calls for a celebration, people! Let’s bring out the wine!”

“Please, no wine, Mun Gor,” Jake cautioned him. “You’ll get drunk again before you know it.”

But the crime czar brushed him off. “To hell with it – better be drunk than tossing and turning all night craving for a bloody cigarette! And you’re drinking with me this time.”

Jake shook his head.

“Come on, don’t be a spoilsport! Just one bloody cup – it’s not going to kill you!”

“All right then, just one cup for your sake,” Jake said, giving in. “It would be nice though if we had music to accompany the wine.” He turned his sight on the host. “How about it, Chin-ling?”

“It will be my pleasure,” Chin-ling said happily. “I’ll go get my flute.”

“May we accompany you?” Lanky asked. He and Fatty were deliriously happy too, giddy even. “My brother and I used to sing and play for our master after his dinner.”

“You should call him papa, Lanky, not master,” Chin-ling put it right to the midget, gently patting his head. “And of course, the more the merrier.”

Fatty, thrilled to know their request was granted, ran to a corner where his belongings were kept and fetched the liuqin, a wooden 4-string pearl-shaped musical device, from a case of yellow satin, then joined Lanky and Chin-ling at the table once the dishes were cleared. With Lanky singing – he had a good voice despite its squeakiness – they played a repertoire of popular Chinese traditional pieces, much to the delight of the small audience. Jake and Little Lung clapped to the rhythm whereas Wing-mun, fueled by three cups of wine, pranced around the hall like he had grabbed hold of a live electrical cable. The others began to laugh at him but he couldn’t care less – he was too busy enjoying himself.

They lived in merrymaking for more than an hour until Chin-ling abruptly stopped playing her flute. She appeared to be distracted by something. The twins, thinking she was tired, ceased their performance and went over to her. For several moments they spoke to themselves in hushed tones. Jake, Wing-mun, and Little Lung looked at each other in puzzlement.

“What is happening?” Jake asked. “Why did you stop?”

Chin-ling finally came forward and faced the men. “Gentlemen, I have the utmost pleasure to announce that a new guest has just joined our little party.” She then fixed her gaze on the ex-gunman. “Jake, your wife is here with us. Would you like to see her?”

Jake stood up, a tingling sensation coursing from his head to his toes. His hands were trembling. “Y … Yes, very much,” he said, choking on his words.

With arms out-stretched and a smile, Chin-ling closed her eyes and lifted her head. The next incredible moment, her physical features began to alter: her hair turned black, her lips were thinner and she became younger. When the transformation was completed, she opened her big brown eyes and gave a smile that glowed like sunshine.

“Jake …” she began, the voice unmistakably belonging to Mei-suet. “I miss you.”

Jake ran to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Mei-suet, oh my darling Mei-suet,” he responded, tears of joy spilling down his cheeks. He felt her soft skin, and her perfume was as fragrant as ever. When she squeezed him back, the world around him melted away, and he wished this moment would last for eternity.

“Is that really Mrs Lone, Lanky?” Fatty whispered, feeling rather emotional at the sight of Mei-suet clasping her hands on both sides of Jake’s face and covering his mouth with hers in a passionate kiss. “She’s so beautiful. And Mr Lone is tall and handsome. They certainly make a perfect couple.”

“True, true,” Lanky replied, misty-eyed.

Little Lung, for the first time in his life, was rendered speechless by the phenomenon before him. And Wing-mun thought he was hallucinating when he saw Mei-suet; he stared at his own cup, accusing the wine of playing tricks on him. He wanted to throw away the cup, but he collapsed before he could do it. And there on the floor, he began snoring like an elephant in heat.

Taking a short breather from their kiss, Mei-suet, still locked in a warm embrace with Jake, looked at the twins and asked, “My little friends, could you play us a song? I would dearly like to dance with my husband. It has been a long while since our last time.”

“Too long, my dear, too long,” Jake softly said into her ear, his moist lips imprinting on her neck and sending another wave of pleasure through her body.

“Consider it done, Mrs Lone,” Fatty smiled, his cute smooth chubby cheeks waiting for a good pinch. “And we know you’ll like very much this tune that we’re about to play; Chin-ling had told us so just now.”

“It should be jiejie, Fatty, not Chin-ling,” Lanky corrected him, sounding like the white-haired lady. “She’s our elder sister now, remember?”

“Oh sorry, yes, jiejie,” Fatty said, nodding.

Lanky then took Chin-ling’s flute which was on the table – he knew how to play it too – and together with Fatty, they broke into a moving rendition of Gymnopédie No. 1.

“Oh Jake, that’s our favourite song,” Mei-suet said; she was gladder than glad.

Jake, ever a gentleman, bowed before her. “Shall we, my lady?”

“My pleasure, your grace,” she curtsied to him.

And with that, they swayed, they twirled, and they kissed.

It was a night of many smiles and joyous hearts.