behalf just to be certain.
The moment arrived. The young man was only a few paces away. Asha sighed and stepped to the right edge of the grassy shoulder, but to her surprise the young man stepped off the shoulder entirely, splashing down lightly into the muddy road. He smiled and performed a small bow, gesturing for them to continue on their way.
“Thank you,” Asha muttered.
“You’re most welcome on this beautiful day.”
Asha grimaced.
“It is a beautiful day, indeed,” Priya answered. The nun paused. “I may not have seen the faces of the other people on the road, but I could feel their misery as they passed us by. But you, you are light and free.”
“I am indeed.”
Asha stopped walking several dozen paces away, just at the edge of being able to hear the conversation over the soft, unceasing sound of the rain.
“Have you always been so appreciative of the world, or have you been more recently enlightened?” Priya asked.
“Oh, recently, very recently,” the young man said, nodding and smiling. “Just this morning, as a matter of fact.”
“Really! Tell me all about it.”
Asha rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Well, I was only passing through Kasar on my way to visit my father when I heard about the boy, so I went to see if the story was true, and there he was.”
“What boy?” Priya asked.
“You haven’t heard? The living Buddha! Lord Buddha reborn, they say. Oh sister, you have to go and see him for yourself. It will change your life.”
“How so? What did this boy say to you?”
“Oh nothing, nothing at all. He never speaks and never moves. They say he’s never even eaten a single bite of food!”
Asha groaned and rolled her eyes again.
“He just sits there under the tree, meditating,” the young man continued. “And everyone says that one day soon he will open his eyes and reveal the secrets of the universe to us all. I spent an hour sitting near him with the others, just watching him sit there as still as a stone. No pain, no fear, no worry, nothing but serenity! I wish I could have stayed longer, but I really have to see my father. But I will be back as soon as I can, I promise you that.”
“Amazing.” Priya smiled and bowed her head. “Thank you for sharing your experience with me. I shall go and see this young sage for myself.” She touched the cloth that she wore over her sightless eyes. “So to speak.”
“Take care, sister!” The young man climbed back up onto the grassy shoulder of the road behind them and continued on his way.
Asha waited for Priya to catch up and then resumed her own brisk march along the shoulder. “So we’ll be stopping in Kasar, then?”
“We were going to stop in Kasar anyway.”
“Not on purpose. Only because it’s there.”
“Ah. Well, now we have a purpose.”
Asha grimaced. She pulled a sliver of ginger root from her shoulder bag and poked the little green-white spear into the corner of her mouth. She chewed. “Let’s try to keep the purpose short, if we can. There’s still a long road ahead.”
2
The village of Kasar sprawled across the intersection of the main highway and a smaller country road running off east and west into the fields. The village was little more than a collection of empty market stalls, neglected shrines, and a single ox-turned mill that smelled of rotting grain. There were a few houses scattered around the intersection, but nothing else. No shops, no indication of any craftsmen of any sort. No smithy or forge or tinker, no tailor or weaver, no potter or glassblower, or stone carver, or anything.
Evening was coming on quickly. As the sun retreated into the west, the sky faded to dusky violet and slate blue. The rain lessened, which did nothing for how soaked the travelers were or how dangerous the muddy highway was underfoot, but the noise of the falling water dropped considerably. Asha welcomed the quiet. Even here in this pitiful village, there was life to see and hear. Rows of crops, huddled flowers, and even trampled weeds.
She pulled her long, sodden hair back to uncover her right ear. The dragon’s venom seemed to burn a little more these days, and the hard scales on her skin itched and chafed, but Asha ignored the irritations. Instead, she focused on the sounds of living things, the hums and titters and songs of souls. Some were human souls, ringing out loud and clear with emotion and life and intention, while others were animal souls, muddled and vague with primitive desires and impulses, and lastly were the plant souls, dimmest and strangest of all, singing their mysterious notes that told her almost nothing except, “Here I am. I live, I grow. And I carry a seed, or a fruit, or a root that you might want.”
Asha paused at the edge of the intersection of the highway and the farmers’ lane. To the north and south she saw and heard little of interest. There were only a few more travelers on their way to wherever travelers go. Other souls rang out inside the houses and stalls, the souls of tired people with little on their minds but supper. She heard the animals and plants among them, rodents and vermin and weeds, sounds she knew all too well. Nothing new. Nothing she needed. The one thing that sang a bit louder and a bit finer than all the others was a lone almond tree near the pilgrims, but even that lovely tree couldn’t tempt her to stand about in the wet, dark road.
Satisfied that there were no other healing gems hidden in the rough of Kasar, she turned her attention to the crowd at the west end of the village. She needed no cursed ear to hear the gathering there. At least a hundred men, women, and children stood and sat in the muddy grass beside the road, all clustered around a gnarled little tree, its branches drooping with shining wet leaves.
“I hear them,” Priya said. The nun smiled and petted the mongoose on her shoulder. “Such soft voices, so full of reverence and expectation. So much joy and eagerness. Like a single great breath being held, awaiting a beautiful sunrise.”
Asha only saw a hundred homeless people with slouching shoulders, dripping hair, and wet clothing plastered to their thin frames. They looked tired. They looked hungry. “I suppose you want to visit this living Buddha right now?”
“No time like the present.”
Asha frowned up at the darkening, overcast sky. It was exactly the same as last evening, and the one before. Recently the days had been a blur of sameness, of routine. “If you say so.”
They turned off the highway and approached the crowd spreading out from the little tree in concentric semi- circles. As the two women moved among the faithful watchers, many hungry eyes shifted to the newcomers, and many empty hands were extended toward them. If Priya sensed the gestures, she made no sign of it. Asha simply ignored them. The fields and forests were full of food for anyone willing to make the effort, and she carried no money at all.
They stood before the little tree among the closest pilgrims and Asha studied the boy seated among the roots, and she described him to her companion. “He looks to be about ten or twelve. Thin. Middling skin. Shaved head. No eyebrows. Seated in the lotus position, completely naked. Clean fingernails. Eyes closed, mouth closed. I can’t see his chest rising as he breathes at all. Not even the slightest tremor or twitch in his hands or feet. No footprints or other marks on the ground around him. The falling rain has spattered a little bit of mud on his lower body. He’s been here a while, that’s for sure. He must be cold and hungry, whether he knows it or not. He won’t last long like this.”
“That is one possibility.”
“It’s the only possibility,” Asha said. “The human body has limits. I’ve seen this sort of thing before. I saw it growing up in Kathmandu. Sages, monks, priests, and other stunt artists. He won’t last, or he has someone secretly
