Week 16.5 – Twain’s Real Story

Previously: In China, Twain stayed with Aunt Ying, an old woman he had apparently known for years. And now…

Twain embraced Ma Ying Chan in the street next to the battered old Tianjin he had purchased with coffee-soaked American dollars. He had paid $645, several times what the junker was probably worth, but dollars were no longer worth what they had been on the black market.

“You be careful on the journey,” Aunt Ying said. “Don’t get captured this time.”

“I’ll try not to to,” Twain said.

“Call me if the car breaks down,” Aunt Ying said.

Which was a very real possibility. The car was over ten years old and looked older.  But it didn’t have to look good. It just had to get him to Ulan Bator, and not necessarily fast. The longer the journey took, the more time he would have to clear his head and think through his problem.

Which was that, though he was sure that the City of the Moon held the answer to his fondest dreams, he had no idea exactly what he should do once he got there.He trusted than an answer would present itself–one always did–but it was scary jumping out there without knowing.

“I wish I could go with you to keep you safe,” Aunt Ying said. “I was amazing when I was your age, you know.”

“I’m sure you were,” Twain said.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]Twain felt a tingle on his chest and fished out the blue crystal he now wore around his neck. The crystal glowed brightly, visible even in full sunlight…[/blockquote]“But I’m old now and out of practice,” Aunt Ying said as she began to step into a brief form. Twain recognized it as the most basic of the Chi Kung forms the old man had taught him years ago.

But of course, Aunt Ying’s lament was the basic reason the old man’s secret society had faded away. In the years since everything had changed, the world had become full of people who didn’t have to learn complex forms or stay in practice to channel the energies they did. Overnight, the entire League of Dragons had been rendered obsolete, which was fine with Twain. The old rituals had never worked for him, anyway.

“You don’t look out of practice, Aunt,” Twain said, to stay on the old lady’s good side.

“You flatter an old lady,” Aunt Ying said. “You should have seen me when I was young and strong. I doubt if I could even channel a…”

She stopped and gazed in wonder at the soft glow that had formed between her palms. “Could it be?”

Twain felt a tingle on his chest and fished out the blue crystal he now wore around his neck. The crystal glowed brightly, visible even in full sunlight. “Do something else, Aunt Ying,” he said.

She launched into a kung fu form, a graceful, flowing movement that mimicked the movements of a woman doing embroidery, ending with a finger thrust like the strike of a needle. Twenty paces away, on a table full of fruit outside a small market, a pear exploded.

Aunt Ying smiled. “I haven’t managed that in twenty years.”

Twain gazed in wonder at the crystal. It had pulsed in perfect synch with her movements.

How will this help Twain’s quest for the City of the Moon? And what’s happening with Digger? Learn more next week in the next thrilling chapter of Run, Digger, Run!

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