"He won't let anyone else in the house. I don't know how he has been able to keep himself fed, he barely has the strength to make it into his garden. And you know how fanatical he is about that!" Julian's mother sighed. As much as she loved her father-in-law, she did not understand him at all. "He told me to drop you off and leave."
Julian Hui stood on the curb of the street. The old house didn't look all that much different from when his grandmother had lived. His grandfather had always been a little house proud but Julian had expected some standards to slip, particularly if his grandfather had been keeping everyone away. He frowned; something was up.
"Zǔfù?" Julian opened the front door, it wasn't even locked. Reflexively he removed his shoes and walked in.
"Kitchen." The call was weak but reached him as Julian made his way to the back of the house. He became more confused as he entered. The house was perfect, not a dust bunny or smudge to be seen.
Julian rounded the corner and froze. His grandfather sat at the table, his Chinese tea setting prepared, but a young woman, traditionally dressed, stood prepared to serve it.
Julian's gaze flickered between his grandfather's face - eyes gleaming with pleasure for all he was fighting to breathe - and the young woman's, expressionless and servile.
"Hello?" Julian had no idea what to do, or what to think. What the heck was this?
The young woman bowed and waved to the table, indicating a chair. He knew what was required of him, saw it in the tilt of his grandfather's chin and the angle of the woman's wrist. Julian swallowed. He hadn't participate in a traditional tea ceremony since Middle School. He wanted to ask who the young woman was as a flicker of recognition hovered in his mind, but he knew now was not the time. A tea ceremony required silence and respect; the language of stillness, eye contact and smiles.
He bowed to each, then sat. To distract himself from the puzzle of the young woman, Julian watched his grandfather; a knot in his stomach tightened. His grandfather's body was wizened, drained and shrivelled. The glowing energy that had pulsed through him was dimmed and his hands, once his strongest feature, looked like claws; crabbed and bent in pain. A lump formed in Julian's throat as he remembered grandfather in the garden, the peace and joy he had when up to his elbows in soil.
Julian returned his attention back to the young woman, her precise movements were graceful instead of sharp, as if she had done this so often that it was now more a dance of memory than labour of tradition. She paused to grind a dark brown bark he had not seen before, adding it to the milky green before whisking it all together.
She served grandfather first, holding the cup before her, eyes downcast in respect. Appropriately, she did not then serve Julian. Instead both watched as grandfather slowly raised the cup to his lips and drank it in one swallow.
He deliberately put down his cup and rasped, "Drink."
Julian accepted his cup with a small nod of his head, the woman's eyes remained downcast, although he could tell she was watching grandfather carefully. He drained his cup. It took all of Julian's self control not to spit it out across the table. It was bitter, a burn of liquid yuck... but... the knot in stomach loosened, the tightening in his back, the stiffness in his neck from his late night flight released.
Looking up, Julian could see his grandfather's hands were outstretched, the knuckles not so swollen, his back a little straighter.
Julian knew of the healing power of tea - preferred all sorts of tea over coffee - but this instant soothing was impossible.
He was about to ask his grandfather what was going on when he remember his manners. He handed back the cup.
"Xie-Xie."
