(1 rating) Rate this Story (5 best) 1 2 3 4 5

SUMMARY: Continuation of story from Radthorne's art.

With morning came an encounter in the kitchen with Huilang over congee and Yu Za Kwei, the sweet deep-fried devils dipped in the congee as I would dip a doughnut into the morning coffee. She wore a different Shen-I not much less worn than yesterday's and only marginally bluer. Her hair remained tied in the bun and she still wore no make-up. As youthful as her face made her seem, her hands indicated a much older woman, callused, wrinkles beginning to appear, the hands of a woman accustomed to hard work.
She sat at the table peasant style, a skill I've never acquired forcing me to sit cross-legged. Around about age 30, my knees began to complain loud and long at such treatment. Evidently, not loud enough to affect Huilang's composure, only mine.
Still curious as to my whereabouts, I started our conversation with that specific inquiry: "where are we?" Something about my questions amused her, it seemed, as once again she smiled her enigmatic smile. Before she could add words to the smile, I cut her off: "No, Huilang, please, do not give that ‘we are here in this kitchen eating this fine breakfast' routine.' You know what I'm asking; please give me an answer I can use."
If I had thought to disconcert her with my rudeness, I was disappointed. She simply dipped a new deep-fried devil into her congee as if considering my request. After she bit, chewed, swallowed, and cleared her mouth with a sip of water, she looked at me with what seemed honest concern. "Suppose, hey you, that I were to tell you that this location is exactly as described in Genesis. Would that help you at all?"
Okay, the look said serious content; it was just my own perceptions that turned the words to nonsense. "Genesis?" I repeated and then dove into my congee bowl to cover my confusion.
"Chapter 3, verse 19," she said.
"Oh. Come on, Huilang. I never found a reason to memorize Genesis or any other part of the Bible."
"Which version would you prefer? In King James, it's ‘"In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.' In the modern Douay Living Bible version it's ‘All your life you will sweat to master it, until your dying day. Then you will return to the ground from which you came. For you were made from the ground and to the ground you will return." She smiled at a private thought and then relayed that thought to me. "In the original Douay version, the translation read precisely the same as the King James Version. I wonder what the modernists found objectionable about dirt?"
Okay, I'm slow. It took me a moment to put aside the vagaries of translation and get to the fact Huilang had answered my question in a way that left little to the imagination, so little in fact, that I rejected it out of hand. "We are not dead. At last, I'm not." My assertion brooked no argument and received none, not even a look of exasperation or patient tolerance or maternal amusement. The lack of response made me think about my claim.