Bad Elixir

Bad Elixir

By

Victor Pilgrim

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 by Victor Pilgrim

All Rights Reserved.

Foreword

This story was intended to be an homage to the old western and martial arts films of the 20th century. I wanted to take the two genres and merge them into one story. Understandably this has been done before in television and film, but I wanted to add my own personal take on it while maintaining some of the tropes of the films and television shows of those genres from this time period.

This is a period piece, but with elements of fantasy. The historical references may not be fully accurate as the story is meant to take place in an alternate Earth. I can only hope the reader enjoys reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 1

The Xīwàng

Dust from the arid landscape lightened the dark brown of a bowler hat that sat atop the head of a man looking over a small plateau into the distant horizon. The man had his hand held to his brow to protect his eyes from the noon sun’s glare. He made a noise that held meaning only to himself while he spat brackish liquid from the right of his mouth. The liquid landed on a passing bird, which wobbled in its flight. The man standing behind him wore clothing that had a rich sheen, much more elegant than the first man’s brown, drab, dust-covered suit.

Excuse me Mister McCrae, but we have signed the deed, the elegantly-dressed man said.

A loud sound could be heard in the distance. Mister McCrae recognized it as the 12:15 train. He pulled a handkerchief from his top pocket and wiped his forehead of sweat before turning to face the other man. He replaced the handkerchief and grabbed the roll of parchment the elegantly-dressed man was holding and unrolled it, examining the bottom of the paper. He made another noise, twitching his bushy moustache, and spat another shot of brown saliva into the wind, getting some on the paper and the elegantly-dressed man. The man did not react, but waited until Mister McCrae rolled up the paper and handed it back to him.

Yep, Mister McCrae responded simply.

The elegantly-dressed man took the paper back and tucked it into the fold of his arm. He cupped one of his hands while he made a fist of the other and brought them together as he bowed. Mister McCrae made another twitch of his moustache in response.

As the man rose, he pointed towards the town to his right.

It would be my honor to escort you back to the train, Sir.

Mister McCrae didn’t show any gratitude as he turned and walked back into town, the elegantly-dressed man following by his side. As they walked down the main street of the town, others came out to watch them. They followed as the two made their way to the entrance of town, where the train station was located.

Mister McCrae, you have been a great foreman to our people throughout these years of work. We are grateful that you took it upon yourself to help us purchase this land from the railroad company.

The train was just pulling in as Mister McCrae took one last look at the town and down at the humble, pathetic man before him. A feeling of pity came over him as he stared at the man and the people of the town that had gathered behind him.

Good luck, were Mister McCrae’s final words as he turned away and entered the train.

He looked out the window of his cabin to see all the people of the town bowing to him as the train pulled out.

When the train had disappeared into the horizon, the elegantly-dressed man turned to the crowd and exclaimed in his native language, Zhège zhèn shì wǒmenmen de!

The crowd cheered.

Xīwàng meant hope in their native tongue, and that was the name it was given.

That night, the entire town took part in a festival. Two men drank from a jug in a quiet corner, watching over the festivities, when the elegantly-dressed man walked up to them.

Nín hǎo. Nǐ hái mǎnyì jīn wǎn de qìngdiǎn ma? the man asked as he bowed to them with cupped hands.

Both men bowed back, one of them responding, Nín hǎo Dewei zhèn zhǎng, gǎnxiè zǔxiānmen xiànzài wǒmen zhōngyú yǒu shǔyú zìjǐ de yīkuài dì le.

The second man began to say something, but stopped when a hand came out from an opening in a pile of sacks behind them and grabbed the jug of alcohol, pulling it inside the pile. They moved the sacks away to reveal a drunken man lying against a wall with thick, shaggy dark brown hair beard covering most of his bright red face. The wrinkles on his short-lipped light brown Stetson hat were matched by the rest of his wrinkled apparel: a light brown dress coat and matching pants, and a white dress shirt – or at least, what once was white, before accumulating all the grime, dirt, and stains now covering it.

Shì shuí ya?

Zhè wài guó rén zài zhè zuòshén me?

Wǒ zìjǐ yě hěn nàmèn. the elegantly-dressed man replied, then spoke to the man, now drinking from the jar, How did you get here? I never saw you before.

The man’s glazed eyes glanced off somewhere past them while a grunt came out from his partially opened mouth. Spittle shot from him and landed on the elegantly-dressed man’s clothes. The other two looked appalled.

How dare you spit on Mayor Dewei! Yang guizi!

They were about to retaliate when the Mayor held them back.

Please calm down you two. This foreigner is too drunk to know what he is doing, the Mayor said as the two began to relax.

You are right Mayor Dewei. Let us leave this gwai dog to his drink.

They left the man alone, but the Mayor turned back one last time to look at him and thought out loud, This isn’t going to be the first foreigner to visit this town. Could this be a sign of things to come?

The Mayor was unsettled, and could not enjoy the rest of the night.

In the months that followed, the people changed their shabby railway town into what looked like a traditional village: The roofs were reshaped to match the gabled look of the town folk’s culture; complex dougong bracketing systems replaced the support beams that were originally in place; statues were constructed, and a fountain was built in the middle of town with a statue of a man sitting in an elaborate robe with a long beard draping over his lap.

The train passed a great number of times. A few curious types stopped to visit but never stayed long. They felt alien in what was a foreign environment to them.

One day, the train stopped containing two unique passengers. A woman dressed in an elaborate Victorian dress, and man in a white suit with a red handkerchief.

Mary let’s hurry. The conductor looks annoyed.

Please John. I don’t want to forget anything.

The man waited outside the 9:45 train, watching the woman inside. She finally emerged holding several small bags.

You women and all your fandangled beauty products. It’s a wonder you’re able to travel!

The conductor’s annoyance nearly turned to laughter, but was stopped cold by the woman’s fierce look in his direction. Her husband’s snicker drew the woman’s attention back to him, and he stopped suddenly as well.

If you can’t be a gentleman then at least be a man and take some of these bags, Mary spoke as she thrust most of what she was holding over to him.

Yes dear, John took the bags and was led by his wife away from the station. As the two made their way into town, they managed to navigate through the narrow streets of people. Eventually someone bumped into John. He dropped some of the bags he was holding and they landed in front of a man sitting on a bench. One of the bags slid to his foot, causing the man to stop reading a scroll he was holding and stand up, revealing a blue robe with lengthy draped sleeves.

John tried to lift the bags while looking up at the man and saying, I am so sorry, Sir.

My husband is such a gollumpus. Please accept our apologies, Mary said while the man scrutinized them,

You are foreigners, the man responded.

Foreigners? Did we enter a new country? John quipped back.

Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect, the robed man bowed to them with cupped hands We are all citizens of this great United States.

Mary looked unimpressed, but asked, Do you happen to know where the nearest inn is?

Yes, please, where is it? I don’t think I can go on carrying all of this anymore, John said with gritted teeth as he gathered the rest of the bags.

Ah yes, please follow the road down further until you get to a pool with a large statue. The inn will be to the left of it.

Thank you, Mary said to the man then turned to her husband, Come on John.

John grumbled and the two worked their way again through the narrow street and finally found themselves standing in front of a two-story building.

Can you read that sign John?

Dear I can barely see past these bags.

Well this is where the pool with the statue is so I guess this has to be the inn. Come on John.

John grumbled again, but reluctantly followed. Mary opened the front doors and walked into an open area from which both floors were visible. They passed a couple of tables where patrons were drinking or eating.

Excuse me, Mary said to a woman standing behind a long counter.

The woman stopped talking to the man she was conversing with and turned her attention to Mary.

She became wide-eyed as she saw Mary and responded, Ah, a foreigner…

Mary cut her off with a noise of disgust, and the woman continued, So how may I help you today? Our chef has just informed me we have freshly cooked duck, just made.

Perhaps later. We are here for a room. I telegraphed ahead weeks ago of our arrival.

Oh? I don’t know of any…. she stopped and turned to a woman who was tending scrolls behind her and spoke with authority, Zuìjìn yǒu jiē dào diànbào ma?

The woman turned back to Mary and asked, I am sorry, may I have your names please?

John and Mary Wallace.

The woman turned back again and said, Nǐ zhīdào zuìjìn wǒmen yǒu jiē dào John hé Mary Wallace de diànbào ma?

Diànbào? Wǒmen cóng mòshōu dào rènhé diànbào yé, the other woman replied.

The woman shook her head and made a disappointed sound.

She turned back to Mary and said, I am sorry but we did not receive the telegram you speak of.

What! John exclaimed as he began to buckle under the weight of the bags.

Mrs. Wallace our inn doesn’t get many that come to sleep here, so we can accommodate a room for both of you

Thank the son of God, John cheered and tightened his grip on one of the bags.

Please take this key. The room is up the stairs. Third to the left.

Did it have to be upstairs? whined John.

Come on John.

After preparing in their new room, the two emerged again and made their way down to the atrium. They looked around the area and found that some foreigners, few as there were, had grouped themselves in a corner. John and Mary found an empty table amongst them and sat down, waiting until a waitress came up to them and took their order.

Ah more foreigners. How may I serve you today?

Mary looked like she was about to make a retort when John interrupted, I remember the lady up front mentioning you have duck. I think we’d like that please.

Good choice, the waitress said with a bow, then turned and walked away.

Who do these yellow-skins think they are? They forget they are citizens just like us?

Dear, I don’t think we need to have this conversation now. Especially with so many of them around here, John said as he looked around nervously.

These Chinamen don’t see themselves as one of us. They think they are still in China, a drunken man sitting behind Mary commented.

Another entered the conversation, Yeah, they must think they are better than the rest of us with all these expensive silk, stones, and metals. I mean look at that statue out there made of that weird green stone, and only last night I saw a yellow-skinned coolie coming from the mountains with a bucket of gold. Everyone’s eyes widened at this piece of information. The corner was now filled with chattering.

So the rumor is true, Mary said, suddenly happy.

It sounds like it, John replied.

Good, then tonight we can go out to those mountains and take a look around. I’ll get the map and lantern and you can carry the equipment

Carry the equipment? But–

John, be a man.

Here is your duck.

John and Mary got up from their table and Mary said to John, We have to get to sleep early, then turned to waitress and said, No thanks. Why not give it to the non-foreigners over there.

The waitress looked confused while the two left for their room.

Chapter 2

The Rìběn

A man was sitting on a bench in the train station, fixing the braids in his hair when the 3:30 train pulled in. He watched as the doors of the train opened and out poured several men wearing a variety of American hats. The men had their hair pulled back