Date: Mon, 15 Oct 2007 22:04:39 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Little House on the Prairie 16

Chapter 16
Transition

The following years, which I may describe in more detail another time,
were both happy and busy for me. I studied several types of martial arts
with the Master and his students; medicine with Dr. Lee Po; business with
the Burly Man, Fang Ke, who also inducted me into his secret society;
Chinese language, history, literature and philosophy with the other
students at Shang Gai Go; and Master found an English gentleman who
tutored me in European languages, history, literature and philosophy as
well as the more manly arts of horsemanship, shooting, archery, pugilism,
and man to boy sex, English style. In my spare time I helped Hung Shi Lo
deliver baked goods all over San Francisco and often helped Chung Sung
deliver Chinese language newspapers. We sold more newspapers than anyone,
because I would read a short article to the buyer and the Chinese were
fascinated with an American boy who could read Chinese. They were all
very nice about helping me with characters I didn't recognize or words I
couldn't pronounce. One old gentleman spent many afternoons teaching me
the lesser known words of the love books, which I repaid by taking him
into the public restroom and demonstrating that I knew what the words
meant. He was always delighted with my demonstrations, and eager to teach
me more.
This peaceful, busy and happy existence continued until just before my
fourteenth birthday. I ran all the way home from the Burly Man's office
because Master had some errands he wanted me to run that afternoon only
to find the front door shattered and hanging on one hinge.
Trepidaciously, I eased past the broken portal. Ho Chi Sung, the
simple-minded doorman lay in a pool of dark blood. The air was full of
the scent of death and vibrations of violence filled the space. As I
cautiously left the entryroom and entered the big main room I saw the
bodies of many of my brothers lying in broken disarray. As I paced with
delicate trepidation around pools of blood and over severed limbs, I
noted that many, many more bodies had been removed than remained. The
attackers had, as best I could guess, had lost three, four or five for
each of the dead remaining, and the marks were of full grown men, not
boys.
There lay Chung Bung, his face peaceful, hands bloody up to the elbows
from fighting, his chest gapping open. And Hung Shi  Lo, fatter than
ever, flesh from the throat of an attacker still hanging from his mouth.
And there, Lee Ho, bloody cleaver still clenched in his frail fist. And
there, in the middle of the floor, Masters body hacked to pieces, a Tong
axe still stuck in his chest.
With the calmness I had been trained to, dispassionately, with a flame of
anger burning deep within my chest, fumes of vengeance seeping throughout
my body, I pulled the axe from Masters chest and looked at it. Trident
Tong mark in the steel, the notched blade indicating that this was the
famous axe of Wan Hung Lo, notorious leader of the Trident Tong.
Apparently he thought his tong was finally strong enough to take over
Chinatown and had moved against the school as a first overt step. Looking
around, it seemed that his first step must have been much more costly
than he had ever planned. I resolved to make it even more costly. Putting
the axe in the back of the weapons belt I now wore under my jacket, I
headed for the staircase and ran up flight after flight until I was in
the attic and out onto the balcony. I pulled the first of the big signal
rockets off the wall mount and dropped it into the launching frame.
Taking up the tinder, steel and flint, I quickly struck a fire and lit
one of the thick yellow candles. Candle flame to fuse and quickly move to
far side of balcony. With a whooshing roar, the big rocket soared into
the heavens above even the tallest of the San Francisco hills before
it's large charge of black power exploded with a thunderous roar that
echoed all over the peninsula and from the hills on the far side of the
bay. Smaller munitions burst outwards from the fireball, fuses aflame.
With crackling tintinnabulation a bright barium-red sphere of secondary
explosions encircled the smoke of the original explosion, followed
seconds later by a second exploding sphere of bright copper green light
and then by a final huge sphere of flashing, angry war red and dark smoke
falling in streamers towards the bloody earth below.
Still counting seconds inside my head I moved the launching rack fifteen
degrees to the north and dropped the second signal rocket into position.
Exactly sixty seconds after lighting the first fuse, I applied flame to
the second fuse and sent the second messenger on it's heaven bent path.
Sixty seconds later the third rocket arched into the sky thirty degrees
south of the second. It's explosion, lights and smoking cloud completing
the warning and recall signal. Three drifting dark clouds marking the end
of my short life's second period of happiness.
Several people were standing around, dumbfounded and bewildered by the
carnage when I returned downstairs. As the only member of the senior
triad present, I put everyone to work caring for the bodies and cleaning
up the mess. A steady stream of members and associates, many more than I
had ever known existed, added to the workforce and the building was soon
set to rights, looking quite normal except for the broken door that was
still being worked on and the rows of shrouded bodies laid out in their
places on the dojo floor. A special trestle table had been erected in the
kitchen and Lee Ho had been returned to his beloved kitchen, the
remaining kitchen staff, whom he had chased out the back door at the
first sign of trouble, huddled sobbing around the bier of the man who had
so demandingly ruled their lives. 
Just before dark, Li and Lung finally returned from their trip for the
Master and quickly took charge, calling all the senior members to a war
council. I paid my respects to Master and then to Lee Po, and left by the
back door, latching it securely behind me.
Because I had been known to enjoy the attentions of older men, I had been
told many stories of Wan Hung Lo and warned that he was one of those who
gained pleasure from tormenting others, especially young boys. I, myself,
had heard him say that the most exquisite sexual pleasure of all was to
be gained from impaling a young boy and then slowly choking him to death,
the death throes of the young body bringing on the most delightful of
orgasms. His henchmen had laughed and I had left, having nightmares for
days afterwards. I also knew where the specially soundproofed basement
was where Wan Hung Lo kept his current object of torture.
It was the work of seconds to pick the lock to the basement as Chung Fung
had taught me, and the work of seconds more to unlock the collar and long
chain that secured Wan Hung Lo's current "pet". The boy was perhaps
eight years old, and nearly as tall as I was. He had been horribly cut
and burned for some time. His fingernails and teeth had been pulled out
for fighting back and the marks of many beatings covered his body. As
gentle as I tried to be, it hurt the boy to be touched in any way. I took
him out to a storage shed and hid him behind some dunnage, warning him
not to move or make any noise before dawn, but that I would return and
take him to someone who would care for him and treat him with honor and
respect.
The door rattled and Wan Hung Lo nosily let himself in to his basement
playroom, carefully securing the door behind him. The delightful young
boy who's screams had brought so much pleasure laid huddled on the silk
and fur covered bed in the scratchy wool robe that was the only clothing
allowed him.
"Come boy. Tonight your trials are at an end. You have proven worthy and
tonight you shall give me ultimate pleasure to match today's success!"
Wan Hung Lo's voice slithered and slobbered as he shed his clothing,
exposing his grossly fat and loathsome body.
The crippled body crawled off the bed and, bent over in pain, hobbled
over to it's master. A small pale hand emerged from the tattered robe to
caress the small male organs partially hidden behind a fold of pendulous
fat as Wan Hung Lo removed the last of his clothing. "That's better my
boy. Much better." Wan Hung Lo took special pleasure from talking like a
loving father as he performed his despicable acts on the lithe, tight
bodies that reminded him so much of the boys who had so enjoyed teasing
his fat and slothful self when he was a young boy himself. They would
pay, they would all pay for treating him like that. He would create new
and ever better torments for the sweet young boys who had no right to
look so desirable, to have such delightful bodies and to refuse him the
right to play with them as he chose. He'd teach them all. This boy would
die tonight to bring him pleasure, perhaps the new technique of
puncturing him with hundreds of pins and then beating him with a broad
leather strap before choking the final life out of him. This boy was
unimportant now. With the new power he would soon consolidate, he would
be able to have a new boy every week. Perhaps several at one time to play
off against one another. "Yes," he chuckled to himself, "much pleasure
to come, but now, for this smart mouthed street urchin."
The boy was fondling him in an effort to avoid more pain, but that was
futile, since only the pain of boys such as this brought any true
pleasure. He reached to push the cowl back from the boys small head and
the boy made an odd sweeping gesture with his other hand and stepped
back...
Ostentatious rattling and banging of the door signaled the arrival of the
fat pervert who was responsible for the deaths of Master and so many of
his friends. The beast called for him and he mimicked a wounded animal as
he responded. Radiating subservience with every bit of his will, the boy
made his painful way to the demanding presence and put forth a hand to
grasp pudgy and unresponsive flesh. The feel of the putrid organs made
gorge rise in the boys throat.
One of the beasts fat hands reached forth to push aside the boys head
covering and the boys hand made a controlled and practiced motion over
the outside of his other arm, tracing a hyperparaboloid arc up and in
front of the hand holding the fat mans organs, the flicker of the narrow
flexible blade of the super-sharp knife made for the boys twelfth
birthday by Chung Fung hardly noticeable as the boy stepped smoothly back
from the gross beast.
...and put forth his small hand as if offering a gift. The boy pulled
back his cowl, exposing his toothy grin as the hand opened and offered...
The handful of clammy organs felt repulsive in my hand. I showed them to
fatso and dropped them into the pool of blood between his feet.
...several small pieces of repulsive flesh that he threw down at my feet.
I looked down and was suddenly aware that I was bleeding, that those
pieces of flesh were my organs, lying on the floor, Rage flowed through
my body and I...
...leapt directly at me, screaming his rage. I waited quietly until he
closed the distance and then struck with a second sweeping motion as I
danced off to the side, the fat mans guts pouring out through billows of
blubber to entangle in his feet and trip him to the ground. I unlatched
the chained collar from around my neck and threw it to the floor and then
moved to the elegant bed and sat crosslegged, watching the fat man trying
to stuff his guts back inside and reattach his tiny organs.
It seemed odd to me, as I watched the struggling man and thought, that in
violence and hatred, people became as one, fulfilling each other and
becoming as one person. I realized that, as much as I wanted there to be,
there was no pleasure in another's suffering for me. That vengeance was
a pallid light to love, even when necessary and just. I rose from the bed
and buried the mans own axe in his forehead, ending his miserable
existence.
I put my school clothes back on and opened the door and walked up the
stairs to the fresh air and looked up to the shining stars that offered
the promise of better things. Looking around me everything seemed
exceptionally clear and well defined. I walked over to the storage shed
and called out to the injured boy, "Come. Everything is OK now." I
heard a rustling and the fearful boy peeked out of his hiding place. Very
gently, I said, "Come. No one will ever hurt you again. I swear this on
my life and honor. Come." Fearfully, the boy came to me and, without
touching him, I guided him back to the staircase leading down to the
basement where he had been tortured. He did not want to go down there,
but I told him he must to ever be truly at peace again. Trembling, the
boy followed me down the stairs and stood there slack jawed, staring at
the repulsive form lying there in its own blood, vomit and bile.
I let the boy settle down and before shock could set in I asked him,
"Can you help me please? I need you to guard this door and allow no one
to enter until I return. It will be only a few minutes, but someone must
guard this door."
The boy tore his gaze from the body and stared at me. Then looked back at
the body and back to me. Nodding, he mumbled through his missing teeth,
"I will do this thing for you."
Smiling, I said, "Thank you. I need your help, and know I can trust
you." Lightly touching the back of his hand in acknowledgment, I went
back up the stairs. It was the work of moments to pick the lock to the
house built over the basement and less than two minutes to find the
master bedroom. A very sharp knife stuck in his chest awoke the rich
merchant that owned the house. "Shhhhh!" I warned, "One sound and
you're as dead as the fat man!" I motioned him out of the bedroom and
down the staircase dressed only in his silk pajamas. A poke with the
knife and he went down the stairs to the basement.  Wild eyed he took in
the slaughtered fat man to whom he had rented his basement and the
opulent furnishings. Pointing to the tortured boy, my angry voice said,
"You are as much responsible for this as that fat pig? Do you want to
die as he did?"
The merchant fell to his knees and began begging for his miserable life.
"Shut up!" I demanded. "Your life is forfeit for what you have done.
All of your property, money, businesses and belongings are now his. You
will adopt him as your oldest son and heir. You will care for him and
teach him as if your very life depended on it, for it does. The slightest
harm that becomes him and I will have you chopped into fish food and fed
to the crabs and your bones will be crushed and used to fill a latrine,
never to be returned to China. Do you accept my judgement?"
Kowtowing to the floor, banging his forehead to the wooden planks, he
whined, "I accept your judgement. I didn't know..."
"Shut up! Your lies disgust me. Lie again and I will spill your guts on
the floor! For the final time, without your merchants tricks, do you
accept my judgement?"
Trembling in fear, he said, "Yes, student of Hsi Lo. I recognize your
justice and accept your judgement. I will fulfill my obligation with a
full heart and in full measure. I thank you for my miserable life and the
lives of my wife and children. This boy is my oldest son, and shall have
the finest doctors and teachers until he is able to take control of his
dowry, which will be all my worldly goods and property. I swear this on
my life and in the name of all my ancestors."
I looked at the boy. "Do you accept this judgement?"
The boy blinked and just stared at me.
More gently, I asked, "Do you accept this man as your father. That you
will be rich now, and pampered. That good doctors will help you return to
good health and that you will live in comfort?" This man can never repay
you for what has happened, but this is the best he can do. Do you
accept?"
Falling against me, the boy began to cry in great wracking sobs. I held
him as gently as possible and let him cry through the immediate pain of
release. His anguish reminded me of my own experience, and of how my
beloved Master had cherished and nurtured me through the pain of losing
my previous family. In my pain, I looked up at the rich merchant. His
face was stoic, emotionless and calm, as Chinese men are taught to be
under stress. But his eyes glistened, and a single string of wet ran down
one pale cheek. I think this man was truly shocked at the condition of
the boy I held. Perhaps he was a good man, too greedy, or intimidated by
Wan Hung Lo, or perhaps he was being blackmailed for some indiscretion.
Perhaps builds no castles, and I determined that, whatever he may have
been in the past, his new life began NOW!
I lifted the now softly sobbing boys face with a gentle finger under his
chin. "You will cry again. But this is enough for now. Go with your
father, he will care for you. I have other business to take care of
now." Looking into the businessman's eyes, I said, "Take your son to
your wife and tell her what must be done. She shall call a doctor, and
she herself shall bathe the boy and dress him in fine silks. Then she
shall wake her other children and introduce them to their elder brother
and she will make each of them swear to honor and obey him. Then she
shall take him to her own bed and guard and protect him until you return,
and you shall join them in bed and you will guard and protect this boy
with your life."
The merchant bowed deeply to me. "I respect your judgment, and it is
just. It shall be as you say, I swear by my ancestors and my sons and my
life." He put his hand out palm up, "Will you come with me, eldest
son?"
The boy shrank back against me and I said to him, "He IS your father
now. You have nothing to fear. Go with him." The boy took the merchants
hand and I said, "Take care of your son and then return with your men
servants, rope, writing paper, brush and ink."
The man turned his son to face me and, together, they bowed to me, and I
returned their honor.
When the man returned with his servants, I had them carry the body to the
street and tie it to the gas lamp post. Then I pinned the note I had
written to the fat mans chest with one of my throwing knives and stuffed
his genitals into his mouth. The note, in my best calligraphy, read,
"The Trident Tong no longer exists in San Francisco. It's members and
associates may be killed without fear of reprisal. Signed, Hsi Jason,
Senior Triad, Sung Hi School War Master."
The servants fell to their knees in fear, bowing their heads to the
ground lest they be noticed. The merchant pointed to the sign, "You
declare war on the Trident Tong?"
I nodded, "Yes!"
He turned to face his servants, a feral grin on his face. "Rise you
dogs." Pointing to one of them, he continued, "Kill me this traitor to
my house, and bring me the head of his cousin who rented my basement."
The servants jumped on the screaming man and swiftly beat him to death
and then ran to the house to collect knives and cleavers and such other
tools that could be used for weapons. The merchant turned to me, pride
once again in his face, "You may trust my son to me. He shall be honored
even beyond what you have required of me. My shame is for all men to see,
but I shall raise him to the highest position in society he is capable of
achieving. Go with God, Hsi Jason. I fear for your enemies this night."
Bowing to honor his words, I turned and left.

*****

Returning to the school, I ignored everyone and went immediately to the
practice hall. Bowing deeply and reverently to Masters remains, I took
the staff from his chest and bowed again. I moved over to the signal gong
and took up the padded stick. The continuous, evenly spaced ringing tones
had never been heard in the school before. Ringing challenge followed
challenge in endless succession, calling everyone into assembly with
repeated warnings. Li stormed into the room to see who was messing about.
He took one look at my face and then at the staff in my hand. He paced
across the floor and took position to my side. Lung burst into the room
with two triads of heavily armed older boys. He took one look at me and
the staff I held and waived the triads to their positions and immediately
took up his position on my other side, unholy glee twinkling in his eyes
and just barely keeping himself from rubbing his hands together in
anticipation.
I hung the gong hammer back on its peg and walked back over before
Masters bier, Lin and Lung pacing me and taking up position to either
side and slightly behind me. Looking around me, I lifted Masters staff
toward heaven.
"My name is Hsi Jason! I have taken the Master staff! I am FIRE! I have
declared WAR on Trident Tong. Reform your triads NOW! Those who have lost
members, join with others until you are complete. Arm yourselves. Four
corner plan. No Trident member or associate is to be left alive. Any who
resist may be killed. Those that would help should be attached to the
triad until it can replicate three triads. Their general is dead and they
are disorganized. Go! Attack without let or mercy."
With a roar of suppressed anger and release the boys quickly moved into a
swarming mass that quickly coalesced into proper triads that headed for
the weapons racks. Within minutes the building was empty except for Li,
Lung, me and the two triads that were on guard. I sent Li and Lung to
tell the civil and military authorities to keep out of Chinatown on this
night of rebalancing, and to tell those who had been in the pay of Wan
Hung Lo to leave immediately. That after dawn, their lives were forfeit.
I went alone to report to the community leaders of Chinatown and to tell
them of what I had done.
One of the "leaders", a man I suspected of having financed Wan Hung Lo
from the background, objected to what I said. Stating that I had no right
to act in such a manner. I made a motion with my arm that left an eight
inch spike sticking out of the man's eye and into his brain.
"I neither asked for your approval nor discussion." I told the remaining
elders. "I am doing you the courtesy due to elders to inform you of what
is happening. Are there any further problems?" I looked around the group
and saw nothing but stoic faces except for the burly man, who's eyes
twinkled with delight and approval.
By noon of the next day there was not a living member of the Trident Tong
anywhere in the bay area. Li and Lung took me to the burly mans house
where he and the Englishman I respected as a teacher and Dr. Lee awaited
me in the courtyard of the house. 
"How goes the war, Warleader?" asked the burly man.
Turning and nodding to Li, I said, "The war is over. I have returned
control to the proper authority."
"Then it is time for our community to rebuild and strengthen itself."
The Burly Man said, pain evident in his voice, his face working to remain
composed. "There are those still alive who would harm you and use your
just and proper actions to divide and destroy."
"Yes, I know. It is time for me to leave."
A shocked look passed over the Burly Man's face. Then he smiled and
bowed to the waist. "Yes. Even so young, you understand. You do your
Master and your teachers proud, my son."
`My son.' This man of power and wisdom called me such, a statement not
taken lightly by any Chinese. I bowed deeply to him and turned to my
brothers.
"I release you from the triad bonds. You must find another so that you
may rule the school wisely."
Li and Lung looked at each other , and joined hands. "Our triad is
complete. And shall always be as it is. We must seem to reject you, but
always you shall be our brother -- and our Fire."
"And if war becomes necessary again?"
"Then we will act as we must, and call for you if necessary, for always
we will know where you are."
I put my hand over their joined hands. "My heart..."
"... is strong, and will never be further apart from ours than the width
of a thought." Li said.
We moved together until our bodies and foreheads touched, hands clasping,
cringing like a trapped animal about to chew it's leg off to escape.
A gentle hand laid its weight on my shoulder. Reluctantly, I broke free
of my brothers and turned. The old English Jew who was my tutor held my
shoulder in one hand and the reins of the mare he had bought for me and
taught me to train and ride lay loosely in the long bony fingers that I
so loved having caress my body. "Within your saddle and the material of
your saddlebags is your fortune, guard and use it well. It is time to
leave, my child. Go with God, and my love."
I threw my arms around the old man and hugged him as hard as I could. He
just stood there, patting my back with his veiny, parchment skin covered
old hand. I pulled away, tears filling my eyes. I took the reins and
lifted his hand and kissed the fragile old bones good-bye. Climbing
quickly onto my filly, Dancer, I was led through the gate and out into
the street by the Burly Man. We were quickly surrounded by two score
armed Axe Tong members. The Burly Man, their leader, told them to guard
me well until I was in open country. I set off, siting tall and proud on
the prancing filly as the Chinese in the street made way and stared at me
and the guard taking me out of the city and away, once again, from
everything I had known.



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