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Bianhua
A bud begins to develop!

A bud begins to develop!

                I looked over the lay of the land before me. It was better than it had been described to me in ongoing chats with the Epa. Chris Devereau, one of Epa’s upper management team with experience in the industry longer than my years, had been trying to convince me for over three months to get me to look at this place.

                It took him quite a while, but he finally wore me down to the point that I agreed to come and look at it. He had been right. The land was perfect for proving on a large scale that the two microorganisms I had patented would work. He had gotten extremely interested in my microorganisms when a story about them had been published in an insiders ecology magazine.

                In his office, we had looked at a few topological maps of the area. What intrigued me was the huge supply of water available to this area. One of the craters at the top of the mountain on the west side of the valley had water almost to its top collected over years of melting snow.

                We went to google maps and got a detailed, closer look at it. It was clear that the water had no natural way to escape to the outside and that it was just a matter of time before it would start spilling over. It was a resource that could help me greatly if we went forward. The key was coming up with a logical way of harvesting it without effecting the ecology of the area.

                If we could blow out a section of its rock rim, we could create a manmade waterfall to provide the steady water supply I would need for both the rotting process and the making of the soil. The only major problem I saw was working out the little difficulties that come with any location to make a smooth operation.

                Before driving into the site, I had rented a helicopter for two days to fly me over the lake, the crater, and the overall site. Using a high-definition camera, I took digital images for closer inspection during the evenings. I am glad I did because I discovered a few things that I would have not seen from the ground’s point of view.

                Part of the mountain’s crater had a very thin side with a flat surface that faced the area I was looking at. Seeing it up close from the air had provided me a solution to one of the numerous things that would have to be worked out if I was willing to do what Chris wanted me to do.

                The crew, supplies, and equipment could be Heli ported in to do the work needed. If opened the way I wanted, it meant the built-up ice on the west side of the crater would receive more sunlight providing an added water supply for years.

                The site had three huge flat areas off to the side. Once stripped of its timber they would serve well for what I needed. One would become our soil making area, the second the site would become an area for a concrete making, and the last the largest a sorting area.

                All it had taken to get me to this point was a genetic modification of two microorganisms which allowed me to create two new ones. Since most microorganisms were single-cell it was quite simple. It took three years of diligent research to find a way to make it work. The key had been to change the genetic code of the two natural microorganisms to make what I had created.

                It was now a proven fact thanks to my discovery that when natural rotting was taking place chemicals like arsenic and others that we added to the mixture would be converted into a gas form by these new microorganisms. The key was collecting this gas so it could be burnt off if a certain pattern were followed. The new microorganisms I created by merging the right ones had been proven to be environmentally safe.

                I was currently standing about twenty-two miles from an abandoned gold mine that had long ago stopped producing. There was still gold in it, but they had been stopped by the feds because of the trailing’s built up over time by mining it. Now with the price with a troy ounce of gold, if it could be reopened it would be a nice security blanket for someone.

                That was one of the reasons I was interested in this area. The surrounding mountains were rich in iron ore and would be prime for harvesting. The problem with mining was the same problem that I might be dealing with. That was the safe removal and disposal of the stockpile of contaminants that would be created because of it.

                The area I was looking at was the remnants of an extremely large, stripped mine that had naturally been reforested by Mother Nature since it was abandoned. Like the gold mine, it was now owned by the state. Once cleared of the marketable forestation it would be a perfect spot to see if my theories would work on a large scale basis.

                The problem with the gold mine was that the holding ponds were beginning to collapse and the Epa was afraid that the chemicals they contained, because of the size of them would soon start leaking and flow into the river system.

                It was not what was in them that bothered them because they were all natural minerals found within the earth, but it was the concentration of them. Because of the density If the problems were not resolved soon, it could kill the river eco-system downstream for years.

                Since the ecological system of two countries, Canada and the United States would be affected, they could not afford to wait. Canada was aware of the problem, and they had quietly been applying pressure to the Epa for years.

                My instructors at university had been amazed when the saw those little things at work in the small tests we did multiple times with them. Using everyday garbage that we all help to make, we added topsoil, the microorganisms, and the dangerous chemicals we wanted to get rid of. We watched through the glass the slow evolution as the waste was consumed and changed. The gas created had burned for sixty-four days before the flame died out.

                After taking the new soil out we tested it, searching for the dangerous chemicals we had put in. Not a trace of them could be found. Nor was there any in the carbon dioxide created by the burning of the gas. The process I used I called ‘Bianhua’ which is the Chinese word for transformation was a proven success.

                Twenty-seven times we conducted the same test with different amounts and the results always came back the same. The university brass had been upset that I had patented it because the thought it would be worth billions for them. They had tried to claim ownership via the courts but had lost.

                During the same time, I had discovered an enzyme that would dissolve most household plastics turning it into a liquid state and that when finishing evaporating, left chalk-like residue. We found the residue left was mostly a calcium based compound. The testing of that material proved it did not do any damage to the environment. Both microorganisms would die out naturally when their reason for being no longer existed.

                Nobody knew that what I had done had been derived from the principles had been taught to me by my adopted father. His understanding of how mother nature worked was extreme. It was just something they had normally done to deal with the trash they created in their community. It was his actions that inspired the creation of the microorganisms. I took his understanding of Mother Nature and how things worked to find a process to restore what we could in an environmentally safe manner.

                It had been simple to put together once I understood that all chemicals were all naturally made and had not been a problem for years until we humans began disrupting the natural cycle of things created by Mother Nature. I produced the process that would, in part, restore the balance to what we had disturbed.

                The problem with implementing my invention was that it required space, time, and a steady supply of rotting material to restore what had taken Mother Nature billions of years to mold. It was the rotting process that was the key to making it all work. Rotting caused Mother Nature’s natural tools, a group of microorganisms, to absorb the chemicals. I had found a way to convert these invisible microorganisms into a gas which, when collected could be burned.

                Since I had just graduated, the Epa wanted to see if I thought my process would work in this isolated location. For the last two weeks, I had been camping in the area getting a deep understanding of the lay of the land, determining what could be salvaged and what had to be modified to come up with a plan to go large scale at this location.

                At the end of each day, I would send Chris a progress report with what I had learned. One of the things I pointed out was the lack of normal wildlife. The amount of animal and bird bones around the containment ponds was sickening. The cost on God’s creations because of the stupidity of man was slowly convincing me to consider doing it. With a few adjustments and a lot of prep work, I decided this would be a perfect spot to try my experiments on a large scale.

                I had found a few trails that may of being used by dirt bikers, or maybe hikers out for an afternoon walk. For some reason, the gravel road that wove through the surrounding mountains to this location had been kept up. Still, it was going to have to be built up and paved.

                To be able to show that my theory and enzymes would work I would have to use man-made garbage on a large scale. The biggest problem in mind would be finding it. I was about a two-hour drive by road to the closest city called Richmond, in Washington State, in the middle of the Rockies. With a population of about fifty thousand what they produced in garbage was a drop in a bucket. The road between the two abandoned mines locations could only be completed by using a four-wheel off-road all-terrain vehicle.

                The strip mine was huge and had been built into the sides of two mountains. They had started in a huge circle slowly working their way down until the pocket of mineral deposit was completely tapped out. In doing such they had taken out an equal amount of the side of two mountains. The overgrown road down was wide enough for two huge mine trucks to pass each other.

                On the road down they had cleared out and leveled off huge sections, all of which I could use for various parts of my overall plan. It had taken me over two hours to ride my all-terrain vehicle down from the top.

                 I took out my cellphone and called my contact in the Epa hoping he had not left early because it was a Friday. He answered my call right away.

                “Look I’ve concluded,” I said. “It is doable but it’s going to cost a lot of money for the startup. The old strip mine is going to need the regrowth of timber taken out. The road between the gold mine and here needs to be cleared and repaired to allow heavy-duty trucks to move freely back and forth. We are lucky since for now there is not a major natural water flow system in this area for us to be concerned about.”

                “Once that is done,” I said. “The first major dump of garbage must be brought in and sorted out. The upper levels of the strip mine have huge flat areas in which this could be done. We would have to work from one end of this manmade quarry to the other using the man-made flat area for making soil that we would have to layer over the garbage before tankers could begin emptying the contaminated ponds.”

                “The other problem is that we are going to need as much yard waste as possible. We can blast rock out of the side of the mountain and crush it down to be used to provide a scattered weight when layering over the layers of garbage before toping the section off with the topsoil that we will have to create,” I said. “When one holding pond is cleaned out the rock and concrete used to build it could be recycled in with the garbage to allow the microorganisms to work their magic on it. As each section is leveled off with collection pipes buried in them so that the gas produced because of rot could rise to the surface and be safely burnt off.”

                “After soaking down the newly formed area with the fluids from the holding ponds, I would plant clover into the layers of soil covering it because its nature's natural soil cleaner,” I added. “Over time we would slowly fill the strip mine up making an unbelievably valuable flat section of land. By the time we got back to the section in which we had planted the clover, it will have cleaned up a lot of the soil.”

                “How long would it take to complete the first level,” He asked?

                “With the size of this old strip mine, a year for the first level which is the smallest at least if we have enough garbage,” I said. “As each level is achieved the greater the mass area, we would have to fill in. This could very well be a ten to twenty-year project. The result would be a huge flat area of land prime for redevelopment.”

                “With the Philippines talking about canceling their agreement to take garbage from the city of New York, is the space big enough to handle half of the garbage they produce for a few years,” Chris asked? “Is the rail line into the mine still usable?”

                “Yes, to both questions and it could take it all,” I responded. “For every cubic foot of garbage, you end up with an eighth of the volume as soil when the cycle is complete. It is going to take a lot of startup money and a two hundred year lease on the land if you think I am the one to do it. The other problem is figuring out how to make it profitable. If I cannot make enough money to cover the overhead, I won’t touch it.”

                “So, you’re interested in doing it,” Chris said with a chuckle. “I knew you would be the man. Meet me in Olympia Monday morning we will begin to formulate a plan to see if we can put it all together. Too many depend on the river system for us not to. Start thinking of a name for your new company.” Chris said. “Between the governor and us, I think we can find the funds between an out and out grant or an interest-free loan to get started.”

                “Why do you think I would be seriously interested in taking something this big on,” I asked?

                “First of all, the city of New York pays big dollars for the handling of their garbage which is compressed the same way they do junk cars,” he said. “That is after they have taken as much of the recyclables out of it as possible.”

                I must admit that man had gotten my interest. So, I agreed to meet him to see what he was proposing.

*******

                It had been almost three months since the democratic Governor, the Epa and I had finally agreed. I had my two-hundred-year lease on the land. The major funding needed, and a long term contract with the city of New York. The main road into the site was being brought up to date and was now becoming a new concrete road thanks to the state. A logging company was already beginning to remove the timber.

                The land leased to me was sixty miles long, sixteen miles wide, and they had signed over the mineral rights. That was the hard part of putting the deal together. The Governor was afraid I was going to leave the land in worse condition then I found it. It took Chris a lot of sweet talking to get him to commit. The catch was I would not own the mineral rights outright for up to one year providing they were satisfied with what I was doing.

                The outcome was that if it did not get the governor's approval after that first year, I would have to agree to him taking it over and accept receiving a huge annual payment for the use of my system. Either way I would end up gaining a huge benefit.

                The amount of land leased included the strip and gold mine. Starting in the new year the first trainload of garbage would be arriving. A railroad crew was already checking the rail line and making repairs that were needed. The built-in turnaround already existing allowed for the quick movement of trains.

                That gave the timber company another three months to clear out what they could in the area that we would be starting at. They felt it would take until the end of the year just to clear the trees on what had been the road going down to the bottom of the strip mine. They were clearing the road between the two mines first and making sure it was safe enough for the heavy-duty equipment they would use.

                The four rock crushing machines were going to be brought in by helicopter. Once in place, they would make any size of stone required. I would have one of them making a fine crushed stone sand full time. First for the road repair and then to start production of a material I would need to make concrete. I wanted to build a concrete road on the far side of the land under my control. Until then we would have to make do.

                The Epa and the governor after looking at my photo had decided where they wanted the water to come down from the mountain. They had agreed to build a small hydroelectric generation plant which the water would flow through. Once up and running it would supply enough electricity for about a hundred thousand homes. The amount of water being tapped from the mountain to achieve that would be replaced by an average winters' snowfall.

                As the timber company stripped the land, I had crews going in behind them tearing out roots, mulching down anything they could and putting into trucks that would haul it to our soil making area. There, shredders would turn it into a fine mulch. Two other crews were hard at work in the sorting area preparing what was needed for any plastics coming into be transformed.

********

                I was out on a Sunday checking our overall progress out when the accident happened. I guess my all-terrain vehicle scared the horse she was riding because I saw it jump up raising its front legs into the air, causing her to be tossed off. She went straight down off the edge down to the next lower section of road about forty-five feet below. The horse bolted running as fast as it could.

                I was shocked because of seeing her and the horse was the last thing I expected. The horse was a fully grown mare still in her prime. Just by the look of it, I knew she had been well taken care of.

                It took me about twenty minutes to reach her. My first impression was that she was in her mid-teens. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and a soft roundness to her face. The rest of her was unknown because she was dressed in winter clothing. She was out cold. Looking over her general appearance she appeared generally bruised up.

                I noticed the bloodstain on her right leg and saw the large pool of blood that was slowly growing. After ripping her blue jeans leg, I saw the long deep gash running almost the full length of her lower leg.

                At the moment I was extremely grateful that my adopted father a Chinese monk, had allowed me to watch him when he was working with the faithful to stitch up people and make temporary repairs that would hold until they reached the hospital if it was serious. In most cases, they would come back later to have the stitching taken out. The teaching of his old ways was finally going to be useful.

                It brought back memories of working with him has he repaired animals and birds just like he did humans. Those long hours I spent learning how to stich flesh was now going to be a benefit to me.

                When I had balked about it my adopted father, the master, had quietly reinforced the thought that there was a reason to what I was learning. It would just take the right time for one to see it.

                She had severed a vein. Using secrets taught by the master I touched her body so that if she woke up, while I was working on her in a manner that she would not feel the pain. Finding a small young plant, I trimmed it and cut out the section I needed. I got out my heavy-duty first aid kit. I used the stem from it to replace the part of the vein that was missing and tied the whole thing together so that there would be no further blood loss. Once I had stitched her leg up, I released the restraints I had put on her so her body would respond normally.

                I picked up a piece of the plant stem that I had used in slipped it into my shirt pocket figuring that wherever we ended up the doctor would need to know what I had used in the patch up. I knew the plant was safe for humans but knew within hours her body would naturally begin to reject it.

                I had lifted her into the passenger side of my four-wheel all-terrain vehicle and was surprised to discover she seemed light as a feather. I had started the drive back to my truck to take her to the hospital. I estimated that she had lost about a pint of blood so I knew that when she woke up, she would be lightheaded.

                “Who are you, and what happened,” The young lady asked as she started coming around. By this time, we were just about to my Ford 150 truck.

                “My name is Dirk Blackstone,” I said. “My all-terrain vehicle scared your horse, and it threw you. I rode down to you only to discover you passed out and bleeding so I patched you up temporarily so we can get you to the hospital.”

                “You best call whoever you need to,” I said as I handed her my cellphone, “And let them know where I am taking you.”

                The young lady took my cellphone and punched in the ten-digit phone number. As soon as it was answered she spoke. “Mom my horse threw me. I’m on the way to the hospital in Richmond.”

                There was a pause then the young lady said, “Mom I best let you talk to the man who found me, I’m sure he can tell you the answers to your questions.”

                She handed me the cell as I shut the vehicle off.

                “Hi, this is Dirk Blackstone how may I help you,” I asked.

                “What’s the extent of my daughter's injuries?” The lady asked.

                “Not sure as I did not examine her fully,” I said. “When I found her, she was passed out with her right leg bleeding badly. I ripped the seam of her blue jeans and found a deep gash that had a broken vein. I repaired it to stop the bleeding, but she is going to need surgery to fix it properly. She has lost a lot of blood, but she is weak but stable.”

                “Take her to Richmond County hospital. My husband and I will meet you there.” The lady said.

                “You might want to arrange for the doctor on duty in the emergency department to be ready to talk to me when we arrive,” I said. “He needs to know what I did and what I used so he can treat her accordingly.”

********

                I was six years old when the Chinese authorities once again clamped down on the growth of Christianity within their country. They came in the darkness of night and took my father, a well-respected missionary. My mother, from that point on, had to hide us as much as possible. So, we dressed in the local Chinese clothing and tried to blend in as much as possible while constantly moving around. Without the help of local believers, we would have been caught instantly.

                La Chey, who I called grandfather had been one of our family's greatest supporters, had taken me to the Shaolin Temple after the Chinese authorities had arrested my mother because he knew they were closing in on him. After all, he believed that they would put him in the same work prison as my parents. He thought the Buddhist temple was the only place I would be safe. He took me there with all my identification and some personal effects of my parents.

                To this day I do not remember what La Chey told them. I just knew that everything had to change. Because of the danger I was in and what kind of threat I brought to anyone who knew of me my given name ceased to exist. From the first day of my arrival to the day I left I was called ‘Wuming.’ It means ‘no name’ in English. In private they used my name in public they did not.

                From the age of six to the age of fifteen I remained with the Buddhist Monks. I had to remain hidden during the daytime away from the lookie Lou’s and tourists who were allowed access to the grounds but not to the inner sanctions. If I went outside of the temple it had to be during the darkness of night. I had to wear my monk's clothing, keeping my head covered and stay out of the lighted areas in case I was seen. It was drilled into me that I dare not allow myself to be spotted.

                In the darkness, on the steps of the temple, I became friends with one local girl. Suling, who was dealing with a lot of problems in her everyday life. We would talk every night, at least when she could sneak out. For both of us, it became something we looked forward to. I guess I brought calm to her crazy world, and she brought sanity to mine. Suling was living with her uncle and his family. Her cousin, a bit older than her, felt like he owned her and had to control everything she did.

                Although we had never seen each other faces she had worn my father’s ring around her neck. I loaned it to her until she returned it to me because the authorities had released her father from prison. They were leaving the country because he and his brother had been kicked out. When she gave it back to me, she said when she was being troubled, she would touch it because it gave her inner strength. The night she said goodbye I thought I had lost part of myself.

                In parting, I had told her that although she saw herself as an unimportant caterpillar, the time would come when she would be revealed to be a beautiful stunning butterfly with the freedom of wings to carry her in anything she decided to do.

                My mornings were spent being instructed in everything the Monk’s felt was going to be important in my walk of life. The sciences, nature, and math were drilled into me for years. Three afternoons a week was set aside for instruction in the philosophy of Zen and the martial arts. The master taught me the secrets of the old because of the way I took to nature and life. With him, I became fluent in speaking Cantonese, Mandarin, and the English languages

                It was stressed to me that our bodies were a temple and as a result should be treated as such. The knowledge he was imparting in me should never be used for violence but for improving the quality of life of others. During those years I learned to speak and write Cantonese fluently so much so that it was my second language.

                I asked the master if there was ever a time where he had to cross the boundaries he had put on his way of life. He answered that all humans must come to the point when everything they believe will be put to the test. When that happened to me, I had to use my knowledge to defend myself. I left the person alive, but their life was changed forever. I still live with those decisions every day and wonder still if the way I resolved it was right.

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                About three days before the Chinese government authorities came, in mass, to sweep the monastery because they had finally gotten a creditable tip about where I was, my adopted father took me to the American Embassy in the middle of the night with all the paperwork to prove who I was and that I was an American citizen, leaving me inside the embassies gate. The embassy staff found me sitting there the following morning and took me in.

                It was through the embassy that I learned that both my parents had been accused of being spies for the US government and had been sentenced to death. The Chinese government's long term plan for me was to turn me into a double agent. That was why the search for me had been so intensive.

                Until my showing up at the embassy they had believed I had been captured. My parents, according to embassy sources, had been taken outside and shot in front of all others in the work camp to send a message.

                I was sent to Scotland to live with Bruce McGregor because they thought that I needed to be with some I could trust as I learned the western culture. He had served with my father and had been there when I was brought into the world.

                It was Bruce who helped get my educational problems sorted out and gave me my introduction to western culture. With him, I learned to read and write the English language properly. I graduated from grade twelve at the head of my class. By that time, my parents' estate had been sorted out and returned to me.

                For both of us, it was a learning curve as he caught up with the changes that had happened in China since he had left, and I learned how to adapt to the new freedoms I had. When he saw the cross, I wore he had to ask how I could keep it.

                I said it was a gift from my Chinese grandfather on the day he had left me with the monks. Although the monks had tried to get it off me, I had resisted. It had been my resistance that had drawn one of the monks to take me under his wing.

                Because of his build, termination, and knowledge, I could keep it because none of the other monks could afford to cross him. The cross was so large when I was small that it took a lot of determination for me to wear it. In time as I grew up, it had become second nature to me.

                My master had often said that he had never seen such a determination in one so young. That was why he became my protector. It was the love that grew between us and the questions I asked that got him to impart his knowledge onto me.

                When I graduated high school, I had come to America to finish my education. My few years with Bruce had been quite enlightening. The western ways were initially foreign to me but since I was young it was easy to adapt. During that period, I learned what it meant to be a Christian. It gave me a deep understanding of my parents walk in life and an appreciation for life that I did not have before.

                Bruce’s grandfather, Angus McGregor, was quite the character as he had lived long enough that he did not care what others thought. He spoke most of the time in the Gaelic language which was and is slowly dying. I learned he did that because the local authorities did not need to know his business.

                By the time I left for America, I could finally carry normal conservations with him in his native language. It was he who taught me how to make his favorite alcoholic drink. During my university years, I had experimented with the process and developed my own recipe. To him, a good scotch had to be as smooth as a teardrop on the Goddess’s cheek. For him, the longer it aged in the dark and the damp in the wooden barrows the better.

*******

                I was grateful the young lady slipped in and out of conciseness. That told me her own body was coming to terms with what it was dealing with. I pulled up in front of the emergency doors and carried her in.

                Her parents were waiting. Both of their faces showing their concern. The doctor, a Chinese American instructed me where to lay her. He right away began examining her and asked me to leave the room.

                It was about an hour later that the Chinese American Doctor came out to talk to me.

                In Cantonese, he said, “I was a young child the last time I saw the stitching of a Shaolin Temple Monk. They had just removed a huge carboil from my grandfather’s back. Perhaps you should explain what you did?”

                “Her vein was torn apart and unsavable, “I explained in Cantonese while taking a piece of the plant I used out. “So, I slid this in and tied up both ends. The sooner you get in and fix it the better.”

                “I have heard of this being done before,” the doctor said. “Not only did you save her life, but you most likely saved her leg. We will put her on antibiotics to make sure there is no infection.”

                “I was a bit concerned that I may have problems because of what I did,” I replied.

                “No: it was a temporary measure to save a human life. I still have relatives that I communicate with back home,” he said. “Are you the ‘Wuming’ the authorities came looking for?”

                “There are some questions best left unanswered,” I replied. “Until the secrets related to them come out.”

                “Regardless,” The doctor said, “You saved that young lady life. If you had not done what you did, she would have bled out. She is already in surgery to fix the vein properly. I knew by the way it was stitched and from what the parents had told me how skilled in the old ways you are. When I explained to the surgeon who is working on her what you had done, he was extremely impressed. I let her parents know that if it weren’t for you, she would not be alive.”

                “Thank you,” I replied in his native tongue as the girl’s parents walked towards me.

                “Your quite welcome,” the doctor said in English as the girl's parents stopped in front of us.

                “Mr. Blackstone,” the man said as he held out his hand. “I’m Ian Conner and this is my wife Bonnie we would like to thank you for what you have done.”

                “It was nothing,” I said. “I’m just grateful that I was able to do something. The Doctor feels she’s going to have a complete recovery.”

                “That is what we have been told,” Bonnie said. “Alana is going to be in surgery for about two hours. She wanted me to ask you to wait because she wants to talk to you when she comes out of the induced sleep.”

                “Perhaps while we're waiting, we can all go get something to eat,” Ian suggested.

                Ian is a tall man who towered over my five foot eleven and spoke with a strong thick voice. I could tell that with his build he had a lot of physical strength. With dark black hair showing a touch of grey, the way he carried himself explained a lot about him.

                Alana got her looks from her mother. It was clear as night and day that they could pass as sisters. That implied that the two of them had a very deep connection. Both had long hair that, when not tied back, added a length to their face. She was just an inch or two shorter than me and spoke softly as most thought I did.

                Throughout our eating together in the cafeteria they learned what I was doing with the old stripped mine and the desolate area. They asked where I was living. I explained I had brought in a sixty-foot trailer with a gasoline generator placing it near the gold mine because it still had functional sewage and water system in the old office which I had hooked into.

                I learned they owned what they called a small horse keeping stable, boarded horses, and did horse rides in season. They thought that Alana was looking for new trails to take riders on in a place she should not have been in. Their small spread was on the other side of the mountain hidden off the main highway.

                “She’s only sixteen but headstrong like her mother,” Ian said. “Perhaps this will teach her a lesson about being careful.”

                “Don’t be too hard on her,” I said. “Even though the crews and I are working six days a week there was no way she would have known that we were in the area. It was a freak accident and please just see it like that because I was just as shocked as her horse was.”

                “How are you going to handle it with the few snowfalls we get through the winter,” Bonnie asked?

                “The snow will help in the rotting process when it starts to melt,” I said. “Moisture will help to break the compressed garbage up. Just before each layer is covered in topsoil, we will add cultured microorganisms to enhance the rotting process. Rotting produces heat so the process should continue during future cold weather.”

                By the time we had walked back, we discovered she was already in recovery. The operation had gone well. In front of both parents, the surgeon said that they should consider this a miracle because if I were not there things would have turned out a lot differently.

                “Young man,” the surgeon said. “Your quick thinking and skill is a gift. Have you ever considered a medical field?”

                “No,” I said. “I went into the field of ecology because of my views of mother nature and the earth.”

                “A shame because the quality of your work made mine look like a rookie,” he said. “It's given me a challenge to work towards.”

                He told her parents that they were able to trim the vein and reattach it without much trouble and that there would not be a permanent scar. The Conner’s face’s showed their relief. Her parents went into the recovery room first.

                Alana was sitting up by the time I was allowed in to see her. Her parents escorted me in. After talking for a few she asked her parents to leave because she wanted to ask me a question in private. Ian raised his eyebrow as if he were questioning. Bonnie got him to leave. Alana asked me to sit on her bed so she could whisper.

                “I awoke in pain and saw you deliberately touching me,” Alana said. “Suddenly I felt nothing. The next thing I knew we were slowing down because we were near your truck. Fill me in with everything.”

                “I used part of the Zen and martial art training I had which is filled with a lot of knowledge of how our nerves, muscles, and the brain communicate to create a block in the message system. That allowed me to be able to do a temporary repair to give me the time to get you to the hospital.”

                “From what the doctors have told me it was not as simple as that,” Alana replied. “Your explanation is one that my parents will accept. The doctors said that you have shown by what you did that you have years of training.”

                “Between you and I, I was raised by monks who imparted in me their years of knowledge,” I replied. “That is the only reason I was able to do what I did.”

                Alana leaned towards and planted a soft kiss on my cheek before speaking. “I know I would have died if you had not come along. So, Dirk will you agree to be my date for the spring prom. I’m in grade eleven and will be seventeen by then.”

                “Not without your parent's approval,” I replied. “I’m five years older than you. I should warn you though: because of my being raised by monks my experience with the opposite sex is limited.”

                “Where were your raised,” Alana asked?

                “In a remote area of China far from where I was born,” I said. “My parents were American missionaries who lost their lives because of their faith. I came to America from my Scottish Godfather’s home to attend university which ended up bring me here.”

                For some reason that brought a huge smile to her face. We chatted for a few before her parents came back in to inform her, they were keeping her in for the night for observation in case there was swelling in her leg.

                I said my goodbyes, preparing to leave when Bonnie said she would walk out with me.

                “Dirk,” she said. “Alana told us that she awoke for a moment to see you working on her leg. At that moment she felt no pain. I don’t know what all you did but in my daughter's eyes you walk on water. Be prepared because my daughter will not forget you.”

                I left them figuring I would never see her again not knowing just how determined Alana could be about my escorting her to the prom.

*******

                It was a Saturday towards the end of February. It had been a mild winter so there was not much snow. I was working with an engineer who was laying out the concrete road that I wanted to build. That was when we discovered the huge empty section on the side of the mountain hidden by some trees when looking from the ground. It was found right behind where the new waterfall would be coming down by the end of the summer. We were both wearing our winter jackets completely open.

                I jokingly said, “This would be a perfect spot to build into if it could be confirmed that the mountain wouldn’t come down.”

                “What’s interesting is that there is no sign of water around us,” The engineer said. “It’s a natural fortress when reinforced with steel beams, it would last forever.”

                It took us about half an hour to find a way up and were amazed by what we had discovered. We measured it. Its height was twenty-eight feet. It was fifty-four feet deep and sixty feet wide. The engineer thought with the leveling of the area for the concrete road we could build a flat area up to it in which we could put in a septic system. A newly created yard and a driveway could be connected to the road.

                “With twenty-eight feet that would give you room for three floors,” he said. “And a built-in garage. The roof would have enough of a slope for a runoff if there was any that developed down the road. Since the sun rises from the east it would get lots of daylight sun. I would build it with steel beams and poured concrete with a patio in front of the side so that the windows would be easy to keep clean.”

                “Let see if there is room to build a pond in front of it so that the water falls into it before going elsewhere,” I said. “It would also be a nice spot when done to spend a few hours relaxing before calling it a night.”

                In checking the area out some more we realized that a huge pond could be created with a second small fall dropping from it. He thought that the patio could be built that had concrete stairs leading into the pond from the patio. They would have to put in a deep culvert in to allow the water to flow through the road.

                “The problem is water,” I said. “Otherwise, it would be a go.”

                “Since we are extending the county road in,” he said. “We could tap into their water line. With the electrical generation plant being built, electricity will not be a problem. My biggest concern is how to get it to you.”

                “Come up with some plans,” I said. “With projected costs. Run it through legal and accounting to see if It can be set up as a mortgage for me to be able to do it.”

                “You want to do this,” he asked?

                “Yes, I will officially become the first sub-lease of the land,” I said. “Of course, a few of the trees will have to go because I want an unrestricted view of everything below. It gives me complete privacy and a view that, when done, will be stunning.”

                Just then I got a phone call from site security. There was a father and a daughter on a couple of horses wishing to talk to me about an upcoming dance.

                Since we were almost back to the truck I said, “Tell them that I’m about ten minutes away.”

                The engineer looked at me with a look of puzzlement before saying, “When did you have the time to impress a young lady so much that she comes looking for you?”

                “On one of those rare occasions where I got cleaned up,” I replied.

                He was still laughing when we climbed into my truck to head back to greet them.

                We could see them, as we approached, sitting on their horses. Alana had her long brownish streaked hair hanging down. It gave her a look of maturity that I had not seen before.

                “That young lady is a very beautiful young woman,” The engineer said. “How in the hell did you ever meet her?”

                “Caught her riding the area one Sunday when everyone was off,” I said. “My all-terrain four-wheel startled her horse and it threw her.”

                “You must have left quite the impression,” he said as we got closer. “She’s got a look of anticipation and eagerness on her face that’s speaking volumes.”

                “Good thing I showered, shaved, and changed my underwear this morning,” I replied.

                The engineer was still laughing as we pulled my truck to a stop and parked it. Alana’s blue eyes sparkled as I climbed out. She was wearing blue jeans, a sweater, with a winter Demin jacket that was open. Ian was dressed similarly but wore a cowboy hat.

                “Hi folks,” I said. “Why didn’t you just call me?”

                “Mom did not save your phone number,” Alana said.

                “Do you want to take a tour of the place,” I asked? “You can tie up your horses behind the security gate.”

                At that time, a helicopter flew over heading towards the crater carrying a huge container, it caught all our attention.

                “Sweet, the first load of trout is arriving a week early,” I said. “That means the conservatory will be able to release the first set of eagles in about a month.”

                “You are introducing eagles to the area,” Ian said. “Why?”

                “The garbage we are recycling will naturally attract a lot of rodents. Eagles will help keep their numbers in balance,” I stated. “We are stocking the crater lake so that they have an alternate choice for food.”

                I guess that was all it took because Ian called his wife to let her know what they were doing. After climbing into my truck, we toured the space. I first showed them the section that was already filled in and covered over with topsoil. You could see that we had covered about 12 cubic feet high of garbage.

                “Mixed in with the garbage is a bunch of the contaminated water from the holding ponds,” I said. “Using the binoculars, you can see the multiple metal pipes sticking out of the ground. Once the rotting has been going on for a while, we will uncap them and light them up.”

                Alana looked through the binoculars and asked, “What did you plant in the soil?”

                “Clover,” I said. “Clover will help to purify and enrich the soil. By the time we get back to add another layer to that section the clover will have done its job.”

                 When they saw the concrete plant in the final stages of being built Ian asked about it.

                “I’m extending the county road to the far side of the property,” I said. “Then around on both sides and running the county water with it. Eventually, it will come around and join up where I met you.”

                “You’re looking long term,” Ian said. “I couldn’t see what my daughter was telling me. Now I do. When you are done it will be a very desirable section of land.”

                “We were lucky because the first circle of the huge old strip mine will become the base of the new concrete road,” I said. “That will give you a clue as to how long it’s going to take to complete the project.”

                “That explains the need for the huge rock crushing machines, and the stock you are building of different sizes of crushed rock,” Ian said.

                “Your supply of garbage must be steady,” Ian said. “What about the raw material to make topsoil?”

                “As you can see, they are still hauling out timber,” I said. “I have cleanup crews going in taking whatever is not nailed down plus we have told several of the counties around that we will take any garbage and yard waste for free.”

                I then drove them over to the base of the mountain where we had discovered the cavern. They could see the marking for the road that we had already installed.

                “By the end of the summer if things go as planned that cavern will house my new home,” I said. “It will give me an unrestricted view of the whole valley below me.”

                Alana's eyes lit up when I said. “Right above it at the top of the mountains in three months, there should be a fully functional electric generation plant which will cause a small waterfall to come down just in front of the back front corner of my future home.”

                “Won’t that cause a problem of future water damage,” Alana asked?

                “No, because it will be the side of the house that has a concrete patio,” I said. “The house front will face the huge yard and driveway up to it. That way the windows will always be able to be easily cleaned and get a lot of the daylight sun.”

                We got out of the truck and walked up the steep path to the cavern. From inside of it we could overlook the whole stripped mine and surrounding area. Both Ian and his daughter were surprised at how deep it was.

                “I never knew how big of an undertaking this would be,” Ian said. “I was a young boy when it ceased to be an active mine so never realized just how much was taken out.”

                “We started at the far end and are working towards this end because we wanted time to build the road,” I said. “Before we are done, I hope to level the land off right to the old gold mine by using some of the new soil we are creating.”

                It was as we were climbing back down that the invitation came for me to join them for Sunday dinner. I accepted after asking if there was anything I could bring. It was interesting to see Alana's expression when her father said it.

*******

                Finding the Conner’s residence was easier than I had thought. The first thing I noticed was the solar panels on their roof. Their home was a spread-out ranch style made up of logs that were well kept. If left the impression that the family had a deep pride in what they owned. It was also clear that this was not a small operation. There was a lot of land for growing straw or hay. Their land backed up against the mountain.

                The huge stable barn off to the side, I guessed could hold over fifty horses. Ian had been right: if it wasn’t for the sign at the road, I would have driven right by it. The huge double rolls of tall cedar trees camouflaged it well. When I saw the built-in racetrack that was when I knew he was breeding and training horses to race them. The trees along the property line were planted to supply privacy and to keep the noise of the highway down when busy.

                Ian was waiting for me at the front door when I stepped out of my truck. I had brought with me a bag holding a bottle of my scotch for him to try and some store-bought flowers for his wife. Being invited for Sunday dinner when growing up with Bruce meant getting dressed up.

                I felt like a fool because I was walking towards Ian in dress pants, sports jacket, shirt, and tie. Ian was dressed in blue jeans with a dress shirt.

                He laughed and said as I approached, “My daughter and you must have had the same thoughts. She has spent the afternoon trying to decide which dress to wear. The question I have to ask which one of you will be impressed by the other the most.”

                “I guess I’m old schooled,” I said, “and not up to date with the American culture yet.”

                “It started going down years ago when the churches stopped requiring Sunday best at church services,” Ian said.

                “Don’t people understand that they should present their best to their God regardless of who or what it is,” I asked?

                “That’s a good question,” Ian replied. “I never thought about that!”

                “I guess it’s like all things: the meaning of words change and that affects the teaching of everything,” I said. “Like the original meaning of the word Bethel in the Hebrew language meant a home that follows God, yet because of the teaching of English it’s become house of god which changes everything.”

                I handed him the bag and explained what was in it.

                “How did you know I liked scotch,” Ian asked?

                “I didn’t,” I said. “My godfather's grandfather taught me how to make it. So, in a way you’re a Guinee pig because this is about six months old. Hopefully, with the process I have created, it has aged like it had been sitting in wooden barrows for ten to twenty years.”

                Seeing Alana in a dress took me by surprise because she looked that good. The dress brought out her natural assets well. Winter clothing had hidden her figure quite effectively proving my general thoughts about her appearance all wrong.

                 Taking her to the spring prom was something I was beginning to look forward to. Her mother soon picked up that neither one of us could keep our eyes off each other. Ian found a vase for the flowers I had brought for his wife. Bonnie thanked me for being so thoughtful.

                Ian asked how I wanted my scotch. I replied with ice. After handing me my glass he took his first taste.

                “Fear ata reidh,” Ian said in Gaelic.

                “So, I guess it passes the taste test,” I said.

                Ian laughed and said, “My wife’s grandfather would say It is as smooth as a tear on the Goddess’s cheek. It has a richness in flavor that I have not tasted in years.”

                I guess he saw the puzzled look on my face because he asked, “Did I say something that offended you?”

                No,” I responded. “My Godfather’s grandfather uses that phrase all the time, but it says it in Gaelic.”

                I turned to Bonnie and asked, “If it’s not prying may I ask the name of the grandfather that Ian is referring to?”

                “Angus McGregor,” Bonnie replied. “Why?

                “Do you know a Bruce McGregor,” I asked?

                “I have a first cousin named that who is a priest. He served in China for years,” Bonnie replied. “He went back to Scotland when the authorities in China clamped down on those of the Christian faith.”

                I reached into my back pocket and took out my wallet. Inside was a group of photos. I found the image of Bruce and showed it to her. I knew by the look on her face that it was him.

                “You know him how,” Bonnie asked?

                “To many in China I was the ‘que shao yi ge,’ because the Chinese authorities could not find me,” I explained. “Bruce is my godfather. I lived with him from the age of fifteen until I came back to go to university here.”

                The tears filled in Bonnie’s eyes as she said “ni haon ionadh go mbraitheann tu teaghlack saoil” in Gaelic. Which means no wonder you feel like family.

                Ian and I sat at the island bar as Bonnie and Alana worked together. I learned that we were all having a typical Scottish meal of Haggis, neeps, and tatties. Haggis was ground up sheep’s liver, lungs, and heart with spices in an artificial casing served with turnips and potatoes.

                Like most in the old world, we had learned a long time ago not to waste any part of an animal. The western culture as I was learning about it had a whole different approach to what was editable or not.

                Over dinner, I explained about my parents and Bruce’s relationship. They knew that my parents had gotten him out of China before they were taken. Bonnie had a lot of questions about family, and she got caught up on the ones that I knew. Alana asked a few questions and I answered them as best as I could.

                Ian and I got into a long discussion about Angus and his inability to trust authorities. Using my insights, I gave him a better understanding of why one would think that way. By the time dinner was over both Alana and I had their approval to start dating.

                I learned that Ian’s parents had immigrated to the United States before he was born. He had met his wife while attending school in Edinburgh, Scotland. They had dated two years before getting married. Bonnie had been born and raised in Kildrumary and had been working in the capital when they met.

                Ian offered me another Scotch after dinner, and I declined saying that I had decided long ago after seeing a fellow student being killed by a drunk driver, that drinking, and driving was not worth the risk.

                The spring prom was scheduled for the first Friday in April. Alana asked me if I can dance. I said traditional yes modern no. She giggled about that.

                After saying good night Alana walked me to my truck.

                “I knew you were different the first time I saw you,” Alana said. “The way that you touched me seemed to bring out a gentleness that showed tenderness and care. Everything I experienced today seems to enhance that fact. Even my parents seemed to be captured by your spell.”

                “I was raised to respect all life, of any type,” I explained. “Any living thing that feels experiences the same emotions as we do. Have you ever heard the soulful song of a robin that has lost its mate? The cry of an eagle that’s broken its wing?”

                “You’re a different kind of man, Dirk Blackstone. I told my mother the day you said goodbye at the hospital, that we would become man and wife,” Alana said. “Mom says that I am more Celtic than I realize because I seem to be born with an old soul. I see that in you.”

                I went to say something but before I could she planted a wet one on my lips. Before I could say a word, she said, “Good night my future husband,” and headed for the house’s front door.

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