* * *
The girl rubbed her eyes and squinted to accommodate the bright daylight before focusing on them. At first, she blankly stared, and then: “Matthew!” she shouted and started running towards them.
“She knows us,” Nora established, aghast. “That must mean only one thing.”
“There’s someone with her,” Matthew agreed. “Someone from our time.”
“Matthew,” the girl kept calling.
“Stephanie,” Matthew returned, consciously slipping the scroll into his outer garment and stepping forward with the others. He thought the attire couldn’t have been any bigger for him, but its size now served him well. No Gulf War Two veteran would ever lay hands on his precious possession again!
“Matthew.”
“Stephanie.” Matthew embraced his younger foster sister with cheek kisses and Nora did the same thing. “My sister,” he introduced to Peter.
“I know.”
“And you don’t need to tell me who he is,” Stephanie offered. “I know.”
“Your sister’s funny,” Peter remarked. “I like that.”
“You don’t need to ask who she got that from,” Nora contributed like her old self.
Peter didn’t couldn’t help noting this attitude he knew too well to be uniquely the blonde girl’s, though. The ‘Leonard Experience’ appeared not to have worked after all. The temporary ‘scales’ over his eyes suddenly fell off, completely.
“How come we found you here, Steph? Whatever happened and who’re you with?” Nora asked her junior sister.
“A friend?” Stephanie supplied.
“A friend?” Nora scoffed as they approached the tower’s open doors. “How did he come to be one?”
“Says he’s my Chinese father,” was the exuberant reply.
“Your Chinese what?” Matthew thought he didn’t hear well enough.
“Her Chinese father,” Peter clarified.
A middle-aged fellow with a long beard emerged from within the tower and blocked the door.
“His name’s Liu Hang, and please be nice,” Stephanie begged them before running over to the new fellow and hugging him to Nora’s consternation.
“Hope he hangs himself first,” Nora muttered to the others and the man raised his eyebrows at her.
“Angry, are we?” he asked her in a low, husky voice. “You don’t have to. It doesn’t help your beauty.”
‘Whoever told you I need your opinion on that?’ she thought, fuming as she stopped some distance from him like the others and thoroughly appraised him.
His cleanly shaven head vividly accentuated his gaunt oriental features and crowned the outdoor appearance of a Chinese monk, which his wary frame easily conveyed to any observer. The long black beard contrasted with his long white coat, which was held in place by a blue sash. He firmly held a long wooden staff in his right hand, although his eyes easily exposed the frailty within his hidden soul. All in all, Liu Hang gave one the impression that he’d seen better days and might have already tried to hang himself, because he looked like a lost venture. One now more than careful in his dealings with the outside world.
“We know who you are,” Matthew stated.
“Do we?” Peter started.
“Yes, I think you do,” the man agreed in crisp, American English. “I knew it when I saw you three. You all looked . . . different! And if Stephanie hadn’t told me stories about your adventures, I would have still identified the three of you.”
“What do you mean?” Nora challenged.
“He knows about the demons, Nora,” Stephanie revealed. “They even paid us a visit before you arrived.”
“We must all come in first,” Liu Hang invited. “We are safer inside.” And he disappeared with their little sister.
“I’m not going in there,” Peter warned, but he soon stood alone and quickly followed the others with a puzzled look on his face. He’d just discovered that the surrounding environment appeared quite unfriendly. “Hey! Wait for me.”