by Lotta Bangs
Armando turned and raised an eyebrow.
“Explain please, Simon,” he ordered the boy on the floor who had a pair of yellow gloves threaded over his belt.
“Sir, the little minx attacked me when I offered her challenge.”
“You, a mere yellow glove, thought to defeat a third level silver? Not even by subterfuge could you manage that, as she has proved. Taj?”
“He tried to trip Fermina with his cane. I blocked the stick, pulled her back and gave her to Phillip to support, then charged him and broke his fibula.”
“Phillip?”
“It was so fast I didn’t see anything until I was holding her mother and Taj was blocking his stick. Then she seemed to dive around the corner at him while reversing her cane and whacked his calf as he fell. She landed on both feet in a crouch, ready to strike again.”
“So she used the momentum of her dive and of the cane swing to strike while still in the air? And twisted around mid-dive? I’ve never seen that. No wonder you defeated three French champions, sensei. Did you devise that move too?”
“Yes sir, but it will only work for someone small. I developed a number of such moves to handle much larger opponents.”
Simon was still lying on the floor and now feeling the pain. I squatted and pulled the two broken pieces into alignment while he grimaced.
“Sir, do you have plaster bandage or at least a balloon splint?”
Armando sent someone to fetch them.
“I hope you have clean underwear, Simon, as we’ll need to remove your pants. They won’t come off over a plaster cast.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing?”
“I’m a second-year medical student. This is a clean simple break, but the fibula is the bone responsible for turning your leg in and out and for ankle movement, so you will need a cast immobilizing the leg from above the knee down.” No need to tell him that setting bones was no longer taught for the MD. I did have experience though, as I had set dozens of broken animal and avian bones.
“You will sign it for me, won’t you sensei?”
Fermina had finally freed herself and knelt to remove his shoe. “Seems an awful lot of trouble to go to for an autograph.”
“But it will be unique. Worth a fortune later when she becomes famous.”
The supplies arrived.
“Phillip, please pull his pants down now, and be careful not to expose him. I may have studied anatomy but I haven’t yet seen a live specimen and don’t wish to do so now. He has been affected by the shock of the injury.”
Simon wore tight blue long-legged undies which firmly outlined his huge erection. A couple of girl students gawked and tittered to themselves.
Simon winked at me. “It pays to advertise.”
“Not to me, it doesn’t. My family are old school Argentinian and I will be carefully chaperoned until after my wedding. In fact, if I wasn’t holding your leg together, Armando would have had me whisked away by now.
“Anyway, it’s not even a foot long. Don’t get uppity. I’ve eaten sandwiches which were bigger.”
The general laughter alerted me that I’d said the wrong thing, but it was a while before I’d puzzled it out. I’m not usually dirty-minded.
“Phillip, please grab Simon’s ankle and pull steadily while I remove my hand. Move your fingers up under mine as I let go. Perfect.”
I moved my right hand up to just below the left, placed the left inside the scrunched up trouser leg and asked the twittering girls to pull down the pants legs in unison.
I moved my right hand down to grab his ankle again so Phillip could let go, then nodded to him to grip again after the pants were removed.
Simon had hairy legs.
“Okay Simon, unless you want your leg hair ripped off with the cast, we’ll need to shave this leg.”
The girls stopped their twittering and did a competent job, then tenderly slathered the leg and foot with petroleum jelly.
I asked for a male volunteer to stand astride Simon’s waist and grip firmly on his thigh, while I sorted through the supplies.
There was a D-shaped stirrup which I maneuvered over Simon’s instep after wrapping the foot in plain cotton wool. Phillip held it in place.
I wrapped the plaster bandage loosely over the plain cotton wool to allow for swelling, wet down my hands and massaged water into the plaster, then scrubbed bits of gunk off my hands before it set.
Someone had fetched an oversized old pair of karate pants which were slipped back on him and Simon was helped up.
“Wrap a blanket around the plaster when you get home and keep the leg elevated whenever possible to keep swelling to a minimum.”
“Why do I need a blanket? It feels quite warm.”
“As soon as the plaster settles, it will start to dry, draining away your body heat. Then it will feel like a block of ice.”
I gave him both canes to walk with.
“You’re not afraid to be defenseless against me?”
“Simon, even with both legs and armed, you couldn’t handle me with my arms tied behind my back. Get over yourself and go home before you pass out.”
“I’m no weanling, I won’t faaiiii . . . “
And down he started until I caught and pulled him upright. The canes clattered to the floor.
“Do we have a wheel chair? Someone get him out of here.”
* * *
There were only fifteen minutes left of the intermediate savate class when we finally arrived there. My earlier karate students were sitting against the walls as observers. I moved among the students, correcting their stance.
With one chap, I had to move his leg by hand the way it should have gone before he understood, but he got it right the next try.
This teacher wasn’t good enough to be teaching beginners.
“What do you suggest professeur?”
“That I teach all your savate levels, including the teachers in one large two-hour class daily, sir. Do you have a room big enough?”
“Yes we do. I can have it and the students ready in fifteen minutes.”
We were given herb tea and fruit scones while we waited. I ate Fermina’s share and looked for more. Amused, Phillip passed me his. I smiled my thanks.
Phillip and the other karate students wanted to participate in my class too. We adjourned to the auditorium.
I chose Ron, the chap I had corrected earlier for my partner. He had originally appeared hopeless, but had made the move perfectly after I showed him how, and that’s what I needed in a partner.
We went through the basics, removing all the wrong teaching.
Ron’s improvement inspired everybody. He only needed one adjustment for any movement to get it perfect, so while he demonstrated each step over and over, I moved among the students, adjusting and rectifying as needed.
The beginners and karate boys picked things up more quickly than the experienced students who had a lot to unlearn.
After I corrected two of Armando’s moves, the other teachers were happy to accept my corrections too. We made great progress.
Nobody wanted to stop after the two hours, so we went for another, but then I had to stop because of hunger. Everyone could hear my stomach rumbles.
“Sorry people but I must eat. We can resume in an hour if you all can handle more of me.”
Armando’s chauffeur brought in a great basket of food and I wolfed into it, eating at least half by myself. Armando looked surprised, but didn’t comment.
When I returned to class, Phillip presented me with two large chocolate milkshakes which I also ingurgitated.
“You keep this up Phillip, and my mother will start marriage negotiations with yours.” He and Fermina both laughed.
After another hour, the class looked more businesslike. The students all had the boxing moves down and knew the kicks. Grapples were less important at this stage and could be picked up later as could speed.
I put together a short savate defense combination of feints, punches and k
icks and when the class had that, taught them the reciprocal attack combination and had them practice those in pairs, swapping over every ten minutes, allowing Ron to step back in the class and partner with some of the weaker students for a while.
He looked absolutely brilliant compared to most of the others. Meanwhile I partnered in turn with the weakest teachers.
Next I taught a totally different kata and complementary combination, demonstrated these using Ron and again corrected the students on the floor.
My stomach reminded me that another three hours had passed. I told the class to continue practicing both sets as long as they liked, but I was going to look for nourishment. Fermina and I walked out together.
* * *
Armando raced after us.
“Taj, you can’t just walk out on a class like that.”
“Why not? I set them something to work on. I’m hungry and need food.”
“But you just ate enough for five people and then had two giant milkshakes. You can’t be hungry already.”
“That was three hours ago. I like to eat at regular intervals. Can’t you hear the borborygmus? My gut is cramping and I’m tired. I’m sick of your trying to suck every bit of knowledge out of me for free without caring how I or Fermina feel.
“She has been bored out of her brain all day and has creases on her backside from the bench seat. You haven’t even bothered to provide her with a comfortable chair. Fermina and I will be going home tonight. We’ve had enough.”
“Just who is the adult here? Who is in charge? How can you let her behave like this Fermina?”
Fermina had found a more comfortable chair and sat down, ignoring him.
“Fermina is a well brought up Argentinian woman who wouldn’t dream of talking back to a man. I’m a trained killer, so I say what I please.
“You forget Armando, that despite my youth, I am a successful businesswoman. I run my own three dojos, at a very nice profit too. I trained my own staff, all superb teachers, and I pay them well, at least double what you pay the no-hopers here.
“My staff are loyal and work hard for me, but I wouldn’t ask anyone to put in the hours you forced on me today. And still you want to suck more from me.
“Don’t let’s forget that I’m a hungry six-year-old child who has been allowed no nap all day.
“You’re a mean old miser and almost bankrupt because you have no idea how to handle staff or students. You can’t even give your own teachers respect. Walking in and interrupting a class the way you did and displacing the teacher without any explanation, is disgraceful.
“You cannot teach martial arts properly unless you yourself live by the code. Your own teachers would be ashamed to see you today.”
My last comment hit a nerve. Armando’s face and bravado collapsed. He was suddenly a broken man.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Come into the office and I’ll pay you what I owe.
Chapter 11
New Partner & Assistants
I followed Armando into his office, and that’s where I saw them—the two small neat gray certificates, printed in dark blue, just like the many he’d written up for me—and I was swept back to memories of the only adult I had befriended at Typhon.
“You were a student of Horrie’s. No wonder my barb stung. He was so big on instilling the right spirit in his kids.”
“Yes, he was a great man and teacher. Were you taught by one of his students?”
“No, Horrie trained me himself.”
“I thought he was killed in the Terror. They found the bodies of his wife and children.”
“Horrie was with the rebels. The Government troops captured him. He was tortured—electrocuted over and over by some incompetent. They fried his brain.
“When he wouldn’t talk, because by then he couldn’t, they broke in on his family, skewered his two-year-old daughter with a bayonet, then his eight-year-old son. The children never awoke and died instantly. One of the bastards filmed the whole thing.
“Then they went for the wife, expecting to rape her. She fought so hard against armed professional soldiers, killed two of them with just her bare hands, head and feet. The officer came up behind and beheaded her with his saber.
“The Americans gave Horrie a videotape. I used to watch it with him. He was so proud of her and pleased that they all died quickly, without suffering.”
That’s where I had seen him before! Much younger, of course.
But it was the security chief who had blackmailed the Ambassador in Buenos Aires.
I had been within feet of the bastard who murdered Horrie’s wife, and I had let him live!
I just stood there, the tears streaming down my face.
Armando fetched Fermina who wiped my tears and made me blow my nose.
“Is there anything I can do Taj?”
“Yes Mom, get the chauffeur and buy me food. A lot of it, please, enough for everyone.
“Armando, I know the chauffeur was hired to impress me and that you really cannot afford him, nor that fool mansion. When he returns, let him and the limo go.
“Find yourself a small flat and get out of that mausoleum. Rosa is wearing herself out trying to keep it up without staff. It’s time to earn back your self-respect. I can get you out of this mess if you do as I say.
“I want a fifty/fifty split in the dojo. I’ll cover your debts if you transfer your mortgage to Bank Galen. Remember, I’m doing this for Horrie, not for you. He would have liked me to help another of his students.”
“Is he still alive?”
I checked. “Yes he is. He’s eighty now.” I always sent love to Horrie when I did all my other Typhon friends, and had given him extra on this milestone birthday. Somehow he had learnt to reflect some of the love back to me so I could feel it.
It may even have been a subconscious reflex—his brain was so damaged, it was hard to tell—but it showed that he still lived. His martial arts skills had remained intact and he was an excellent teacher, but he would only teach children.
I was his favorite student. He had noticed my aptitude early and pushed me hard, but carefully, so the guards and officials didn’t notice how much I knew.
I would pass on his new teachings to the others when we were outside the wire where Typhon listened but couldn’t see us except when the satellite was overhead. And Horrie knew the satellite’s schedule.
I became a skilled teacher there because our lives could depend on this proficiency.
Every few months Horrie’s brain would short circuit and he’d go to pieces, mourning his lost family. I would sneak into his room then and we’d cuddle up under a blanket in his big wingback chair, watch that horrible video and fall asleep together.
I always felt safe in his arms. The guards all knew, but they loved Horrie too and covered for us, because I was the only one who could calm him.
Horrie was one of the few masters of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and taught me every secret move of that art at every level, without my needing to sit out the ridiculous number of years at every stage that the authorities had ordained.
As Horrie said, once you had mastered each move and could execute it with perfect form, it was yours forever and needed no further practice. He was also a master of many other martial arts and brought me up to the highest levels there. We often spent the night in practice when he couldn’t sleep.
He had a fixation about proper certification—that had to be where Armando picked it up—and wrote me up a new certificate each time I had another achievement. He kept these certificates in a metal box behind a loose brick next to his bed leg.
He reminded me often that I must take them with me when I escaped—he even helped organize our escape plans—but when the time came I had to help with the young ones and didn’t have a chance to collect them.
I owed Horrie a great deal.
* * *
I had investigated Armando’s financial situation and reputation before we arrived here. The dojo was a good one with a lot of potential but
he was only two months from foreclosure. I could have waited and acquired it cheaply, but he was also Horrie’s student, a friend of Fermina’s family, and his wife knew the Albas.
I contacted Maggie and had her arrange the mortgage transfer and partnership papers. One of the part-time teachers was a notary public. Armando fetched her to witness our transactions.
I arranged with Maggie for the same firm which had handled my previous dojo alterations to do this one, but to add four extra floors.
The blueprints were ready in moments. I scanned and approved them. The work would begin in two days.
* * *
Fermina and the chauffeur appeared with a banquet. There was no canteen or dining area, so we returned to the auditorium where my students were still practicing.
Several of them volunteered to help bring in the rest of the food and we all picnicked there, sitting on the floor. Except that Fermina used the chair from the hallway, making the hard bench her table.
As Armando had made no statement, I announced that we had gone into partnership and I was having the building remodeled and extended. Anyone who had property on the premises should remove it today as all furniture would be cleared out and stored during the rebuilding.
Fermina and I would be moving to a local hotel whose ballroom I had rented for continued classes.
I paid Paul what Armando owed him then rehired him and his limo.
Fermina returned with him to the house to collect our luggage, explain the situation to Rosa and move into our hotel suite with the chauffeur in an adjoining room. Armando didn’t say a word about either her or my needing to be chaperoned.
* * *
Each student typed their full names into my computer which printed out sticky labels for them to wear so I could learn to recognize them.
After everyone had eaten their fill and tidied up, I started the next session, with calisthenics designed to ease digestion and taught three more kata and their bilateral series.
While the class was practicing those, I talked to Ron as we moved among the students. He was better looking than average but his lack of confidence and habitual hunched clumsiness gave him an aura of dorkiness. He was painfully shy but slowly opened up to me.
He lived at home with his mother and gave her all the wages he earned at his job as a pharmacist. Dear Mom had no other income, and though able-bodied, had never worked and had no qualifications.