Hainan Dao

Book III Chapter 01

HAINAN DAO BOOK III

CHAPTER 01

I felt like I could topple over any minute, it was so hot. How did anyone ever keep dry in this climate? I took my handkerchief out of my pocket and wiped it across my brow. I had forgotten to bring my water bottle with me. That figured. It seemed to me that I was getting more and more forgetful these days.

I stopped beside a tree to recover a little under the shade of its leaves. Leaning my arm on it, I took a big breath in and out but slowly. I waved to Biai, who was already a good distance ahead of me, asking her to slow down. Disappointed and unbelieving of my frailty, she slumped her shoulders, plodded back to my side and yanking on my sleeve, urged me on again while she gibbered at me like a chipmunk with a hurt ego.

“All right, all right!” I shook my head as I picked up the pace again. “What was it you wanted to show me anyway?”

She looked over her shoulder and motioned for me to keep up.

It was now about two weeks after the dinner with the mayor. Over this time, I had learned to live mostly out of my room. I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t see anyone. No one important anyway. There were only two people that I would willingly see now, and one of them was Biai. She was the only one that I ever went anywhere with and the only one I would let into my room. And that was only because I knew we wouldn’t be talking very much. Well, sometimes we did. Actually, sometimes, I would sit on the edge of my bed and talk at her, while she was fooling around with my watch, or Nike running shoes, or some other gadget she had never seen before. It was strange. To be honest, I think I would have gone completely bananas if she hadn’t been there for me to talk at, and I don’t even know whether this was a compliment or an insult to psychotherapists in general.

The second person that I was willing to see now and again was my brother, Fuhwa. On several occasions, he had felt strong enough, and so had summoned me to his chambers and we talked. The very first time I was there, he asked me how I was enjoying my stay in Hainan. I told him that he should be far more concerned about his condition than whether or not I was having fun on the Island. Then we discussed his disease, what he had tried and was now trying for treatment and how well they were working on his joints. I thought about my old professor’s study, still going on back in Toronto, and I asked him if he was up to going to Canada for a little visit.

He had shaken his head. He said no and didn’t give me a reason.

One time, during one of our talks, two men from the village came in and asked him to settle a dispute between them that had arisen over property lines. After listening to their arguments, Fuhwa turned to me and asked me what I thought. I told him that I thought he should try to get some rest and get someone else to decide.

He had sighed. “Furen, my little brother…” He coughed. “…the need of the people is great…far greater than those of myself. Can you not see that?”

Sure. I saw it. I saw it all right.

With the incense rising slowly into the air, and an old woman stirring a bowl of some herbal concoction in the corner, I saw the needs of the two men, rough and rugged from their toiling in the fields, and then I saw my brother, a humbled, broken porcelain doll, coughing beneath his quilted covers but making no noise.

The needs of the people. Sure. Everybody needed something.

The two men had left without an answer.

Everybody needed something. Just like me.

Well, that’s all right. I didn’t expect anyone to understand. After all, how could he have understood? How could he know what it was like? What I felt…?

And yet for me, this was the distillation of everything that I had ever dreamed about. In coming to Hainan, I had found the only solution to a problem that I had never even been able to put into words before. She was the One Answer to every single question I have ever had in life. Without the slightest trace of strain nor effort, this Angel of the gods has opened all the doors in my life and at once. Before she came, there had been no light nor darkness for I was blind. Now, an eagle hatched anew and in falling, has spread his wings and found the true meaning of sky.

She was my destiny. She was my doom.

Yes, indeed I knew the need of the people was great. But these were words and words only and empty and small and at that particular time in my life I could not bring myself to care.

***

Other than the infrequent excursions to my brother’s room, I didn’t go anywhere else. I didn’t want to. My body and brain got all screwed up. I tried to sleep while the sun was up, because Lord knew I wasn’t doing it when it was down. On the rare occasions that I did, the hours were always marred by episodes of chilling nightmares that left me soaked with sweat in the middle of the night when they would wake me, sitting up in bed and panting, not remembering what I was panting about.

I suppose I probably should have left at that point, gone back to Canada, but I couldn’t do it. I continued to hang around, though I didn’t know for what, and I stayed mostly in my room, waiting for Biai to come knocking on my door with food or water or some other silly thing she had found on some field somewhere.

Now today…today was different. Today, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

***

Again, Biai raced back from up ahead on the path to take my hand in hers. She yanked me onward, speeding me up.

Geez, I didn’t think I was walking that slowly. What’s the big rush?

We had marched out of the village, following the river that ran through the middle of Sanjia on our right hand side. Here, about fifteen minutes out, was a long stretch of tall grass and bushes that hugged the stream down its length. We couldn’t have made any progress if we were trudging through that, so we didn’t. Instead, we picked our way along on the edge of this growth, in a cleared out path that was getting wider as we stamped along. Further ahead, the path grew into a clearing about a hundred yards in width, which was edged on the left hand side by a thick front of coconut trees.

We passed through the clearing. When we came to the end of this forest on our left, I saw a set of buildings that had been hidden behind it in the distance. Without veering to her left or right, Biai set her sights on these and led me marching onward.

As we gained more ground, I could see that there were three buildings in this group altogether, and one of them had a yard in front of it, with markings painted on the ground for basketball. I glanced at this one and the others. They all appeared brand new and their windows gleamed beneath the light of the sun. They were impressive, by Hainan Village standards anyway.

I could tell from the appearance of the first building that it was a school. I never knew we had a school so close to the village. I wondered why Wei had never told me about this place.

Ah, Wei…! I shook my head. I didn’t want to think about them anymore.

Right now, all I wanted was a drink of water.

We trudged our way over to the central building and slipped through the front door.

Inside, we were met by a long, empty hallway.

I began strolling down the length of it, checking the signs on each door for the obvious. There were glass panes set into the first few. Nope. Not these. Finally seeing the sign I had been looking for, I left Biai behind, hurried into the bathroom and strode up to one of the sinks. I bent down to the tap and took in a long draft. Placing my head completely beneath the water, I soaked myself in that for the coolness it gave me.

I stood up. Shaking my head, I whipped most of the water from it. I went back outside.

Biai was not in the hallway.

I strolled down the corridor, keeping an eye out for any chipmunks with a hurt ego. Soon, I had run out of hallway and reached the last room at the very end. It was the school library, or so the sign said. I peeped through the window and saw two tall shelves by one wall that were filled with books. Throughout the rest of the room, tables and chairs were lying strewn about in no particular order. The windows on this last set of doors were larger than the others, and I was sure I was about as visible to the people inside as they were to me.

There were only the two of them. They were sitting over by the window, two men, one tall and big with grey hair and glasses, and the other short, small and with neither, chatting. Actually, more like arguing.

I was standing behind the double doors, just getting ready to turn around and go, lest I should disturb the gentlemen in their discussion, when one of them waved to me.

I pointed a finger at myself.

He jiggled his head up and down and urged me to come on in.

I swallowed. Stepping through the doors, I shuffled over to the two of them. “Good morning sirs, you are good,” I said in my best Hainan.

The man with no hair smiled at me. “Don’t bother,” he said in stunted Cantonese. “Cantonese will be fine.”

The other man was more impatient. He waved his hand at me and interrupted us. “Well, what are you doing there, standing like a fool? Get a chair!” He pointed at a few in the far corner of the room. “We’ve been waiting all morning.”

“Oh, but I’m only looking for my friend.”

“You mean Biai?” The one with the grey hair adjusted his glasses. “She said she had some business to attend to, so she will come back for you later.”

My brows flicked up for an instant. “Oh…?”

“Now do hurry and get a chair. My neck is starting to hurt from looking up at you like this!”

I fetched one from the corner like he told me and sat down beside them.

“My, but look at that big frown upon your forehead,” the man with the grey hair said, “You look like you’re a thousand years old.”

I smiled. Lifting my eyebrows with an effort, I found that indeed they had been tied into knots. “I’m sorry. I guess I have had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Would you care to tell us what’s troubling you?”

I blinked. I opened my mouth, but closed it again. I coughed. “You must excuse me, but I’m afraid I do not know with whom I am speaking.”

The bald one glanced over at his partner and smiled. “Both of our last names are Ying, naturally, so that won’t be helping you very much. But we like to think that what sets us apart from other men, is that we are faithful gatherers of the wisdom of the ages, the final repository of knowledge both great and small…”

“Two old men,” the other interrupted. “Two old farts who have nothing better to do than to just sit around and gossip.”

I bowed to them. “It is my honour to make your…”

“Oh, please,” said the bald one, smiling, “you have already met us! At the dinner on the first night. You just don’t remember, that’s all.”

“Is that right? My deepest apologies…”

The grey one waved me to silence. “Bah! Be done with the formalities. We know who you are, and now you know who we are. Just call me Dashu (Eldest Uncle), everyone else here does.”

“But that is only because you are the older,” said the other man. He turned and smiled at me. “You can call me Xiaoshu (Little Uncle), for lack of a better title…”

“And for good reason that I am the older.” Dashu frowned at Xiaoshu. “It takes wisdom to live long, did you not know that?”

“Well, if you are so wise, why have you still not been able to answer my question from this morning?”

“I am still thinking.”

“Ah! Admit it. You cannot think of an answer. You might as well admit your failure. You have lost this time.”

“No, no, that is not true. I have not yet thought of an answer sophisticated enough to be worthy of me, that’s all.”

I frowned. “I am sorry to interrupt…”

“Then why do you?” asked Dashu.

“Oh, let him speak, you old croc,” said Xiaoshu.

“I was just wondering,” I said. “What is this question that Mr. Xiaoshu had asked that has you thinking? It must be an important one indeed to have troubled you so.”

“It is no trouble…”

Xiaoshu cut in. “The question is, ‘Is there a God’?”

My eyes widened. I sat up straighter. “That is a difficult one.”

“Of course,” said Dashu, turning to me. “I would not waste my time on questions of no importance. Now, young man, if I were to ask you the same question, how would you answer?”

“I…I don’t know. There are so many different views.”

“But what is your view? Do you have any evidence that there is a God?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it enough, I guess.”

“Well then, what do you spend your time thinking about? Or do you not bother thinking at all?”

“I…” I frowned. “I do think. I spend a good amount of time thinking. There is always much to think about, much to consider, many decisions to make…”

“Then what do you think of the question? Is there a God?”

“Well…” I cleared my throat. “…well, esteemed elder, why don’t you tell me what your answer might be?”

Dashu shrugged his shoulders. “My answer is ‘yes’. I believe there is a God.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I have considered it, and I suppose there must be a God somewhere, after all…”

“So, you really believe it?”

“Yes. Why do you keep asking me the same thing?”

“I don’t know. I guess I would have expected you to say no.”

“Why?” He frowned at me. “Did you think that only the enlightened West could be wise enough to believe in a God?”

“No, it’s not that at all.”

“We in the East have our share of wise men too.” He turned to Xiaoshu. “Did you know the great Confucius also believed that there is a God?”

“You don’t say?” said Xiaoshu.

“Then, of course, there are all of those fools in the West who think they know God…”

“You mean, like our religious leaders…” I said.

“Bah! Religious leaders!”

Frowning, I scratched my chin. “Actually, come to think of it, I do know of a man who was not a religious leader but believed in a God…but no, you have probably never…”

“No, no. Please.” Dashu leaned closer. “Try me. You never know what I’ve heard of. You might be surprised.”

“All right, then. Have you ever heard of Sherlock Holmes?”

“Um…”

“Well?”

Dashu sat back. “Never heard of him.”

“Well, he’s this fictional character made up by this famous writer, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”

I went on to explain to him that in fact, Sir Doyle’s works had been translated into Chinese many years ago, and that there was a huge following of the man in China and elsewhere in the Near East.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I remember that Sir Doyle once said, through the character of Detective Holmes, that there is proof in the world that a God does indeed exist.”

“Oh? And what might that proof be?”

“He said that, the proof is right under our noses, literally. It is in the blooming of the rose. That everything else in the world may have a purpose to their existence, but only in the rose is there no obvious purpose. That here, at last, is an extra, something that God through providence has graciously provided for our enjoyment alone.”

Dashu harrumphed. “I could have told you that, only simpler.”

“Is that right?” I asked.

“Yes. Here is my answer to your self-important Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he turned to Xiaoshu, “and an answer to you as well. How do I know there is a God? I know because—boogers don’t smell.”

“What?” asked Xiaoshu.

“You heard me. Boogers don’t smell. That’s how I know that there is a God. Because…”

“Boogers don’t smell?” I tilted my head.

Xiaoshu leaned in closer. “So, with all your eons of wisdom and observing and analyzing the world, all you can come up with is, ‘boogers don’t smell’?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” Xiaoshu nodded. He frowned.

“Now, just think of it for a moment. Bend your mind to the task. There are many things that are ejected from our many orifices almost on a daily basis. We are constantly being bombarded and inundated with refuse and waste materials. And they all smell. They reek. Think of your usual solid waste…”

“Solid?” asked Xiaoshu. “But they’re moist.”

Dashu waved his hands. “Well, moist, solid waste then. And our liquid wastes, and even that from our ears…”

“Wax…” said Xiaoshu, closing his eyes and nodding.

“Eyes…”

“Sleep…” Xiaoshu held up one finger.

“Throat…”

“Sputum…” Two fingers.

“Will you stop?” Dashu shouted into his friend’s face. “The man’s a doctor! He knows the names of these things.” He turned back to me. “And they all smell. It is only the humble booger that does not reek of a foul odour.”

“Hmmm. That is true.” Xiaoshu had gone back to nodding.

“But why should that be so? Logically, if all of our other excrements smell badly, then so should this. But it does not. Why?”

“Why indeed?” Xiaoshu asked.

“Because there is a God, that’s why! It is only out of sheer kindness and grace from a merciful Maker that we have been spared this indecency, lest we should need to clean out our nostrils every few minutes of every day.”

I sat back and nodded. Smiling, I turned and glanced out of the window into the bright sunny day outside. The globe of fire in the heavens shone down at us from millions of miles away, bringing warmth to the land and the sea, to the plants and the animals, and to the inhabitants that crept and crawled upon its surface, to men both good and bad.

“There is a deep lesson to be learned here,” Dashu went on. “Though our lives may be tough, and we find it hard to bear at times, can you imagine what life would be like if our boogers did smell? I think it would drive most of us insane. But it doesn’t. And we aren’t. So for whatever reason, when things go so wrong that we can’t stand it, and we don’t understand why things are the way they are, and we think we will die with the agony, remember this. There is a way out. There will always be a way out, a solution to the problem. We need only to find it.” He shifted nearer to me. “You are close, my child. Keep searching, and you will find it.”

I turned back toward him and peered deep past his bushy eyebrows.

Dashu nodded at me. Smiling, he sighed. For the first time that morning, I had a chance to gaze into his eyes, and I saw a different man. I was able to see past the mask and into the real actor beneath the persona that he had chosen to wear for that occasion.

“We know,” he said. He glanced back over at Xiaoshu. “We both do.”

“You know?” I glanced at Xiaoshu and he was smiling and nodding too.

“Yes. There are big decisions coming for you. Decisions that will affect many. I pray that you will know enough to do the right thing.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

Dashu sat back in his chair. “You will.” They both smiled.

I stood up. I took a step back, frowning.

Still deep in thought, I turned and left the library. Neither one of them questioned me on why I was leaving or if I would be coming back. When I reached the doorway, I heard Dashu call after me, “When you come next time, bring something to eat!”

Stepping out of the main doors, I glanced around to get my bearings. I could see the river, over to the far left. I looked to my right. About another thirty yards away, I could see the main road out of Sanjia hiding behind some trees, the same road that I had been using to go in and out of the village these past few weeks. I shook my head. Why didn’t I see it before? Now I knew where I was.

Which meant that if I headed for the road, and then passed it and kept on going in that direction for another few minutes, I would be able to see the hospital coming up over the next rise in no time at all.

The hospital. I sighed.

Biai came running up to me at that moment. She wrapped her arms around my waist and I hoisted her up into the air. Twirling around once, she settled into my arms, wrapping her legs around me.

“Where have you been?” I asked, smiling.

Shaking her head, she giggled and let it suffice for an answer.

I let her slide down my leg and onto the ground, and then we began strolling away from the school again and back toward the river.

***

After dinner that evening, I went out for a stroll. Well, at least I wasn’t moping around in my room, right?

Leaving the village behind, I found myself following the path by the edge of the bushes once more, retracing the steps that I had taken to get to the school that morning.

I was about halfway there when I saw someone dashing toward me from the other direction. The person had flown out of the wooded area on the far side of the clearing and was heading right this way.

It was Cece. There could have been no mistake—the gold of her hair in the shimmer of the setting sun. I didn’t know why, but I dropped down to the ground right away and dove behind some bushes.

I peeped out from where I was hidden, and soon I could tell she wasn’t running to me because of me. It was clear she hadn’t seen me at all. She was only racing along in my general direction, and I had just happened to be here. She was far more interested in what was behind her, as she checked over her shoulder every few seconds with every stride that she took.

She reached the edge of the bushes. She whipped her head to her left and right. Deciding on a patch of tall grass not ten yards from where I was hidden, she hurried into them and lowered to a crouch herself. Still and silent, she swivelled around and waited.

Another minute, and a figure burst through from the far wood.

Wei.

He stopped in the middle of the clearing. He glanced all around him. With clenched fists by his sides, he stood there and faced us, the grass, the bushes, the river. In that moment, all was quiet and still. Down the stretch of the lonely meadow, all you could hear was the rustling grass, the gurgling brook, and the sound of the man’s heavy breathing as he laboured to catch his breath.

“Cece!” he began shouting into the early evening. “All right, Cece! Just come out.” He was speaking in Hainan but I managed to understand most of it.

Cece didn’t answer. I could see her sitting there nearly within my reach, peering out at Wei, biting on her lip.

“I know you’re here,” Wei went on. “Okay, I promise I won’t talk about that anymore. Now come out.”

She didn’t move.

“I won’t even mention his name again, all right?”

Cece dropped her gaze.

A butterfly, in all its blueness, flitted over at that point and landed upon her shoulder. She didn’t notice. Another came along, brushed by its companion and together they were off again.

“You can do whatever you want with your life, go wherever you want to go…” Wei sighed. “…I won’t care…” He winced. “…I mean…” He reached up and scratched his head. “I do, but…”

Darkness.

Someone had sneaked up behind me and placed hands over my eyes.

Biai!

Reaching around, I grabbed her and hugged her small frame close to me. I pressed my finger to my lips to hush her.

She frowned at me, but didn’t say another word.

By the time I turned my attention back to Cece and Wei, they were just sitting down by the edge of the river, talking together quietly. I could just make it out.

“Well,” said Cece, “have you at least mentioned it to him?”

Wei shook his head. He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the passing stream.

She sighed. “You know you’re right for the job.” Picking up a stone herself, she did the same. “There is no one better.”

He nodded. “I had thought so too…once.”

She turned to him. She frowned. “What do you mean? Nothing has changed.”

“Of course it has. Everything is changed now.”

“No, you’re wrong. We all need you. You are still the man for it.”

“No. Not anymore. There is one better…”

“God!” Cece went to stand up but Wei stopped her. “I thought you said you weren’t going to talk about him…!”

He shook his head and wouldn’t let go of her arm. “But don’t you see…?”

“No, I don’t.” She flicked his arm away and fixed her own across her chest. “He will never do. He will not make a good leader. No one knows him. No one will follow him.”

He shook his head. “No…he…he is the logical choice. He is the one. I don’t know why Fuhwa has not asked him yet. But he must soon. The time will be upon us quickly. The deal must go through…” He shifted closer to her. He cleared his throat.

“And you…” He tried touching her arm again. “…you should help.”

Her eyes snapped shut. She cursed. Gritting her teeth, she shot her hands up to cover her ears.

“Please, Cece, for the sake of us all…”

“Wei!” She spun around to face him. “How can you do this? How can you even ask me that? How can you even suggest…” She shook her head from side to side. “…I thought you and I were…”

“But Cece…”

“And don’t tell me it’s for the good of the Village!”

“But…”

“Why are you always like that? Why does it always have to be the good of the Village? Why can’t it be about us? Just once?”

He stopped.

Sighing, he nodded. Dropping his gaze, he went to say something further but didn’t. He looked up. Reaching out, he tried to touch her face.

She flinched and turned away. “Don’t…!”

“Cece…”

She jumped to her feet. She backed away a few steps.

“Cece…”

“Please go.” She pointed to the forest with her finger.

“Cece…”

“Please! I…” She blinked quickly. “…I want to be alone.”

Wind swept by. Her hair was lifted off her face and it caught the dying sunlight for a moment. A reddish, golden fire, burning with a silent pain, fluid sadness, visible emptiness that flowed amber and bled.

“I…” Wei took a step closer.

She backed away. “Please…!” Her voice began to break.

Wei stood there for a second, his arms reaching out to her. He was summoning the powers of the evening, for strength, for wisdom, for help. But no help came.

He dropped his arms. He sighed. Turning around, he began plodding away into the night.

Cece put her back to the retreating figure. Taking a few steps closer to the water, she crumpled to the grass, and hung her head as her hair fell over her face like the drawing of a curtain on the final scene of a play.

Over by the edge of the clearing, Wei stopped for a moment. He turned around.

“I will.” His back straightened somewhat and he grew taller. “I will follow him…” He was nearly whispering now. “…I will follow no other.”

Turning to the wood again, he slipped between the trees and disappeared, into the gloom, into the blackness from which he came.

I kept my eyes on the spot for a time, where I saw him go.

And then I turned back to look at her.

Cece’s eyes were on the water in the stream by her feet. She was gazing deep, far past the slowly shifting surface with its patterns of swirls and eddies that floated on top. Her hair was a golden fount itself, flowing over her neck and shoulders, cascading onto her chest and back. It fluttered in the breeze of the evening and sent wisps and whispers into the night when it happened by.

Drops fell from her eyes and my heart broke.

I trembled and nearly collapsed. I balled my hands into fists.

I felt my heart go out to her and I longed to do something for her. I longed to draw my wings over her and cover her and enfold her within them, to pour out upon her comfort. I longed to caress her spirit and cradle it gently within my palm. To draw the night over her, to grant her warmth. To gather all the blessings that sat upon each blade of grass, the strength in every tree, the hope in every blossoming of every flower, and lay them at her feet. To fashion the breeze into a blanket, a shawl, and draping it over her shoulder, she would dry her tears and smile.

I shifted and the grass around us rustled.

Cece straightened up. “Who’s there?” she asked in Hainan.

I jumped. I took a big breath in and made to stand up.

Biai gave my hand a squeeze.

I turned to her and the little girl shook her head at me.

“Who’s there?” Cece stood up and began walking toward us.

“Dioh ne!” Biai burst through the bushes and rushed into Cece’s arms. They began conversing in chipmunk and Biai laughed. That made Cece laugh too. She reached up and wiped her eyes clear of tears and sadness for now.

Linking their arms together, the two of them began striding away.

One last time, and I didn’t know if Cece noticed it or not, Biai turned over her shoulder to look at me and then they were gone.

***

The next morning, as I stepped out of my room and readied myself to go down to the kitchen area for breakfast, a visitor was already waiting for me outside.

“Good morning.” Cece looked down as she kicked away a pebble from in front of her shoe. “So, you’re ready?”

“I…”

She glanced back up at me. “Have you eaten?”

It was kind of funny to hear that phrase in English. “Well, no…”

“Great. Let’s go then.”

“Where are we going?”

She began going down the stairs. “I thought we could get some breakfast first. Then maybe we could go check out a few of the sights on the Island. Isn’t that what you’d wanted to do?”

“Uh…”

“Come on!” She smiled.

We spent that day traveling to different sights around the Island. Cece behaved like the perfect tour guide. She pointed out the various landmarks, telling me the history behind them, the stories and even some of the myths. We spent hours just talking in the van as we moved from one site to the next. We broke for lunch in the middle of the day and we talked over that. Gone was the tearful girl by the bank of the river that I had seen the night before. No fussing, no complaints—nothing.

When we said goodbye that evening, she asked me if I’d like to go to some other sights some time. I said I would love to. She said we couldn’t go for the next few days, because she had some critical experiments running at the hospital, but she would definitely get back to me. She waved and left smiling.

I watched her go. I went up to my room and stared out across the horizon after that. The sun had still not set yet. Summer days were all long and were as long as the longest nights in the wintertime. Isn’t that always true?

Sitting back in my chair, with my feet stacked on the balcony railing, I sipped on my bottle of water and thought of many things.

You’ve probably noticed that I tended to do that a lot—just kicking back and…thinking. Oftentimes I thought about life and what it meant, and what people were doing and what the future will bring.

I thought again about the universe, and how some say that everything in it has happened and will always happen by sheer chance alone. I found that hard to believe. I suppose I could see how it might be safer for some to believe this, though, because otherwise, if you actually believed that at least some of the things in the universe happened for a reason, you’d want to know that reason, now wouldn’t you? You’d be tempted to figure it out somehow. You’d want to know why. It is safer though, not to know why, because if you did, if you did know why some things happened the way they happened, you’re bound to disagree with some of the reasons sometimes. And we all know where that leads us, don’t we? Down that path, lie nothing but hurt, heartache, resentment and lies. It is often better simply not to know at all. Sometimes, it is better not to know why.

I nodded. I took another sip.

Perhaps it was true. Perhaps sometimes, it was better not to know why.