Remember More

Chapter 30

REMEMBER MORE

CHAPTER 30

"Ow!" The voice yowled in pain again.

John and Yan followed the sound and came up to a small clearing just behind the first group of trees. Breaking through the growth, they stopped by the edge and took in the scene. John took a second and put his shirt back on.

"Ow…"

In the middle of the clearing was a little old Asian man sitting on the ground, holding his ankle in his hands, rubbing it down and his face all scrunched up with pain. He glanced up toward John and Yan standing there like statues. "Well are you going to come help me or not?"

"What happened?" John rushed over and dropped to a crouch beside him. "Are you hurt? Did you sprain your ankle or something?"

The man was speaking to them in English. John found it a little odd, but he spoke to him in kind for the moment and left it at that.

As John went to inspect the man's foot, Yan noticed that behind the stranger and off to one side, was a set of two wooden buckets for carrying water drawn from a well. They were empty at the moment.

"Here, let me see." John moved in to take the man's ankle in his hands.

The man wouldn't let him. He pushed John away. "Oh no! Don't you dare! I hardly know you. How do I know you're even a doctor…?"

"But I'm not a doctor…" John stood up and took a step back.

"You see?! I knew it!" The man was trying to get to his feet. Yan moved in to help and with it, he managed to stand up again, though he had to place all of his weight on his good foot, all the while leaning on Yan for support.

Now that the man was standing up, John and Yan could have a better look at him.

Except for his near perfect English, the man appeared exactly like a local, just like the dozens of locals that the two had run into already since coming to the mountain. The old man was done up in the traditional garb of a Daoist priest, with a knee length tunic cinched back with a sash at the waist. He also had on matching pants and leggings, all made out of the same rough material. The cloth itself was grey and plain and not patterned, though it was so worn and with all the patches that had been sewn on to keep it in one piece, the thing had begun to take on a bit of a patterned look anyway.

The old man's long hair was swirled up in a bun and pinned through at the top to hold it in place. All of it had long since gone grey, just like his thinned out moustache and beard. He was a small man. He couldn't have been much more than five foot two from the bottom of his Chinese sandals to the topmost point of his bun, even if he had been standing perfectly straight, which he wasn't at the moment.

"At least the ankle's not broken." John peered over at Yan and gave her a look.

Yan knew what he meant. John must have used his vision on the man and could tell that his ankle was all right. Just a sprain, then.

She turned to the old man. "So, what do you want to do now? Should we bring you to the nurse in the school? She's just right there."

The old man was shaking his head so fast his beard swished. "No, no! She knows nothing, that old crone. I'm better off putting some balm on it myself, back at the house."

"Where's your house?"

The man indicated over his shoulder. "That way." He grinned at Yan a certain way. "You could carry me on your back, you know? I wouldn't mind…"

John shuffled over. "That's all right. I can do it." He took the old man up in his arms and hoisted him onto his back.

"Oh!" The man laughed. "Don't want me too close to the girlfriend, eh?"