Athena, with 6 years old Bliss beside her, watched this moment and felt a terrible pang to see her Chinese bow, murmuring, before this horde. She heard the ghosts of a billion Chinese ancestors cry out in horror and dismay. Their pain lanced through her so that she herself cried out. In a moment she had collapsed at Bliss's feet.
Bliss had never seen his mother so pale. She smelled funny. He did not want to approach her. He watched silently as the man and woman hanging back at the furthest edges of the crowd of spectators worked their way towards his prostate mother. He observed them as he crouched over her. The man, who seemed very old to him, held her wrist in a funny way. His lips moved in time to some internal rhythm. Perhaps he was singing, but Bliss did not think this moment was cause for even a hymn.
"Come on," the man said to the woman, "let's get her back home." He lifted Athena in his brawny arms. The woman held out her hand to Bliss. He slipped his hand into hers. It was warm. He walked close beside her. She smelled good. He liked that.
In their house, Bliss became aware of the loud noises his mother was making. She lay on a bed. Her face was shiny and tight. Her chest heaved. The woman attended to her, putting a wet, rolled-up cloth on her forehead. Once she tried to feed Athena something from a bowl. The liquid ran down Athena's chin and neck, wetting her clothes even more.
The man, who wore a strange six-pointed star around his neck, put his huge hands on Bliss' shoulders, turning him away. "Are you hungry?" He had an odd accent that made Bliss giggle. He nodded.
At night, they woke him gently with whispered words.
"Your mother wants to see you," the woman said. She smelled sweet. Jake took her hand and went with her.
Athena smelled worse than ever. He wrinkled up his nose and tried not to breathe. This made him gasp within the space of tiny seconds, so that the woman squeezed his hand.
He saw the sweat streaming down his mother's face. Why was she so hot? Didn't these people have a towel to dry her? Suddenly, his mother's eyes flew open. In the light of the single oil lamp that the man was holding up, Bliss could see the color of her eyes, as pure and clear as ever.
At that moment their connection returned, and her threw himself upon her heaving bosom, sure now that something terrible was about to occur.
He felt the woman's hand pulling him back, holding him now, stroking the back of his head as he remembered Athena used to do.
"Bliss." It was sandpaper rasp. He heard his name but could not recognize her voice.
"Mama."
Athena was weeping. Her hands searched beneath her soiled dress. She thwarted. Her eyes looked from Bliss to the woman. "Please," she whispered, and her hand pulled away part of her dress.
The woman saw again the small bag hung by a leather thing from around her neck.
"Give it to him," Athena said with some difficulty. "Please."
The woman let go of Bliss and, bending over Athena, removed the bag. She loosened it's drawstrings and drew out some papers. She inverted the bag over Bliss's hands. Out rolled a piece of lavender jade.
"See that he keeps it with him always," Athena said. She sighed deeply, liquidly.
Bliss stared down at his mother's blank face. In a moment the light swept away, plunging her countenance into darkness.
He heard the man's voice rumbling. "It's time we left here. We will go to our friend's in Japan."
In the darkness, Bliss felt the woman's acquiescence. He reached up, taking her hand in his.
TBC...
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