by Lotta Bangs
“No, I definitely want to go back tomorrow to see my new building and show Armando the bust, but we’ve got classes booked here too.”
^^Taj, you’ve trained enough silvers to handle these classes. The three you brought from the small dojo are experienced teachers. Put each of them with an Evans girl and several of the top silvers and let them all learn on the job.^^
“What do you think, Paul? Want a day off from martial arts to drive people back? You could see your family again and grab a sister or two to accompany you around the place. There’ll be plenty of jobs available at the dojo which may interest them.”
“Sure, Taj, the change will be fine. I have a bus-driving license too. It might be easier to take one of the buses there and back. There might be other people interested in returning or moving there to help do the interviews and start classes.”
“Good thinking, Paul. I don’t know much about your town.
“Maggie could you work up a questionnaire for new members to fill out at Registration, stating what particular services they are interested in having, what classes they want, and what times they want them. Also what skills they can offer us. We could have three or four six-hour shifts running if there is a demand for longer opening hours.
“And could you also make a list of available jobs there for both skilled and untrained persons. We’ll post those tomorrow and start vetting applicants.”
“We’d better call a staff meeting with Armando’s people and mine and sort everything out. There’s also another class to start. We can announce the new facilities here to the ladies and invite them to move in.
“Maggie, is the Galen crèche running yet? And do you have floor plans I can see?”
* * *
Things were a little chaotic for a while, but soon it was sorted out. Maggie had left three entire floors of small apartments with tiered bunk beds for small fry. Apparently all the children at the shelter were under nine and averaged four per lady. No wonder the mothers had all looked so exhausted.
Most would have married in high school because of an unplanned pregnancy. Products of a capitalist society, without skills, they found living on a small wage difficult.
They argued and fought, made up in bed and soon were pregnant again. Formula was expensive, hospital bills terrifying. The luckier ones remembered what breasts were made for and accepted Welfare.
The young men saw their youth and dreams disappearing with no prospects of improvement in the future. They took out their frustration on the person they blamed for landing them in this hopeless mess.
It was a huge problem that Western society couldn’t handle. I hoped Maggie’s scheme would give the women a new start. But who would help those guys?
Twelve other floors of small apartments were also available for students and women. These had a queen and two single beds.
I had a beautiful new 4-bedroom apartment, above the office floor. This seemed like a luxurious double suite, for me and my executive assistants. There were three other very nice apartments on the same level; the rest were smaller. The previous apartments and dormitory floors were sandwiched beneath.
Chapter 18
Opening the Fourth Dojo
Janine had a bus-driving license and wanted to take the other bus over. She also had an articulated vehicle license, probably because of her strong competitive streak. She had decided having first pick of the best jobs would be more advantageous than getting a free holiday.
She said Ron had already trained his replacement at the pharmacy in the shop’s system, and was eager to start his new career with me. He also had a bus-driving license, so could drive the bus back.
I ordered six more of the 60-seater coaches in white with a metallic gold horizontal stripe and my logo centered each side, the seats upholstered in cherry red. Armando had never had buses, so we would have four at each large dojo plus the two at the small one.
Despite our having had a very early breakfast at oh dark thirty, so we could set out before dawn, the Galen cafeteria provided each coach several hampers of nourishing food and drink for the trip.
It was only as we drove away that I saw that my building was at least three times taller than it had been. And there were more levels below ground too! I’d check into that when we returned.
* * *
The three new towers were visible from a great distance. Mine was flying long pennants: black, cherry, gold and bronze, fluttering wildly in a strong breeze, the metallics reflecting and flashing scintillations of sunlight. Paul drove past the façade to the car park entrance around the corner and parked in the reserved coach area near the lifts.
The façade had looked lovely with a huge copy of my logo shield, at least eight feet high and twelve wide, centered above the double glass doors, about a third of the way up and ‘Prospero’s’ in a golden-bronze casual italic script, arcing over that. There had been a stream of people walking in as we drove past, though the building across the road had been silent and closed.
Ron was at the coach door before we had alighted and quickly filled me in. Maggie had contacted him and made him responsible for Public Relations. There was press waiting in the foyer.
Apparently Maggie had advertised our services heavily worldwide. She touted us as having full security, the best childcare in the world, martial arts expertise and real help in finding and training for jobs. She had announced that women and families in need of protection could access our building through any Galen facility. More than a hundred single-parent families had already moved in, with more arriving all the time in a quiet reception area upstairs.
Galen cut across national boundaries so easily, but we’d be in trouble with immigration if she hadn’t obtained legal visas for all these people.
Most of these women were already working three-hour shifts at various jobs. Short shifts best suited nursing mothers, also allowing them to try more than one type of work at a time and fit in defense classes.
* * *
I decided to go back out onto the sidewalk and walk into the main entrance like everybody else. The guys protected me from being mobbed by the press who were at their usual obnoxious worst. I ignored all questions, pulling Armando along by the hand. I led him to the curtained alcove, defended against snoopers by two stalwart guards. One handed me the draw rope.
“Armando and I started this joint venture after we discovered that we had both had the same sensei, the martial arts teacher and champion, Master Prospero. He was one of Armando’s earliest teachers, and mine, raising me also to a master of the martial arts.
“Earlier in the week I taught self-defense to a few women from a refuge, and was impressed by how rapidly those damaged ladies recovered their self-esteem and confidence. Now we’re going to do that on a larger scale. So today I am dedicating this dojo to Master Prospero, the strongest and kindest man I have known. He would be proud to be associated with this cause.”
I pulled the cord and the curtain slid back smoothly. Armando and I both bowed to the bust.
“He’s shorter than I remember.” Armando’s eyes were in danger of overflowing.
“That’s because you were a young boy and he had such a powerful personality that he appeared more imposing.”
The questions came from all directions as paparazzi flash bulbs popped:
“Where’s your mother?”
“Comfortably at home watching this on the TV.”
“This is your fourth dojo. How many more are you planning on?”
“While I was in Buenos Aires I ordered twelve castings of my logo which is set above the inner doors into my dojos. We’ll see what happens after I’ve used all those.”
“Is it true that you beat up one of the husbands?”
“No, he interrupted a class and raised a hand to me threateningly. I threw him to the padded floor. In the process I dislocated his elbow and made a pretzel of him.”
“How do you make a human pretzel?”
“You simply use nerve pinches and dislocations t
o lock all his limbs so he cannot move.”
“Sounds painful.”
I gave my evil grin. “It feels even worse.”
“Doesn’t a person need to be very strong to fight off an attacker? We know you’re strong and very fast, but how about these women? After being abused for so long, wouldn’t their first reaction be to cower away?”
“No, the way I teach inputs the kata moves into their body’s memory. If someone approaches them threateningly, their body immediately produces the correct moves to fend off that threat. They react instantaneously before they’ve had time to think.
“In fact, when I was teaching Ron here, I attacked him with a very realistic paper dagger. He kicked it out of my hand and threw me across the room with full force before his mind realized the attack wasn’t real.”
“That must have hurt!”
“Nah, the floor’s padded with mats.”
Paul volunteered: “A fifteen-year-old schoolgirl at our previous dojo was attacked by three muggers with knives while going home from her first day of Savate lessons. She put all three in hospital and came out without a scratch. They’re still in jail, all wearing casts, one also with his jaw wired. They’ve been identified by two other women they had attacked and raped and are awaiting trial,”
“Is your teaching method really so effective?”
“Yes. You won’t believe it until you try a lesson yourself. I’ll be starting a class shortly. You have time to buy yourself exercise gear and savate shoes. Bring the camera crew. Just don’t tape the other students unless they give you permission.”
“That statuette is really good. The old guy looks alive. Who was the artist?”
Paul answered: “Taj carved it herself, then it was molded in bronze.”
“So you’re calling yourself Taj now?”
“That has always been my registered fighting name. I use it everywhere except in Buenos Aires.”
“My cousin has been studying karate for two years and he’s still not very good. He gets bullied regularly and can’t fight off anyone.”
Ron answered: “I used to be bullied too and did savate here for over a year. I tried really hard but couldn’t get the moves right. I was absolutely hopeless. Then Taj came to class a fortnight back and showed me how to move correctly, and immediately, in that lesson, I could. Now I’m an expert.
“Taj has perfect form. She understands what a person is doing wrong and shows them how to fix it so they get perfect form too. Perfect form is the whole secret. Taj teaches everyone to achieve it and recognize it in others. Her way reduces the learning time by many years.”
The TV crew left to buy workout clothes. The others weren’t invited to the class so left to cover more interesting stories.
* * *
Our bags had been taken up to my reserved apartment. Rosa took charge of Armando. Paul and I decided to have a look around my latest acquisition.
There was a green grocer’s with the most beautiful fresh fruit and vegetables, most of which I didn’t even recognize. The produce absolutely radiated healthfulness. An ice-cream bar had the widest selection of mostly fruit-based flavors. Plus there were juice, shake, milkshake and sorbet bars. A bakery, a florist’s with the loveliest fresh flowers, again, mostly strange to me, several cafés and many ethnic restaurants.
There were stalls selling original handmade jewelry with the cheaper gemstones as well as the pricier ones, set in gold and silver, as well as galenite coated base metals which would never tarnish. Those actually looked tougher, more macho, and suitable for guys.
I bought several beautifully wrought gold chains for Fermina and a swirled sunburst yellow gold brooch set with rays of pavé diamonds with matching earrings. I had only seen her wear plain gold jewelry, but these were beautiful and not ostentatious.
Several shops sold handicrafts and the materials to make them. Natural, cruelty-free wools and blends in beautiful colors which even tempted me. I bought enough to knit a soft, double-thickness lap rug for Fermina. The shop owner was fascinated by my description of what I planned and asked that I write up a pattern so other ladies could try the design.
And everywhere there were battered and bruised women working with pride. Several sported bandages or slings. All looked fierce and in control of their lives. They’d already had their first Savate lesson.
Maggie had designed employee uniforms. Most wore black slacks with white dress shirts and bronze sleeveless jackets in various lengths and styles to flatter their bodies. Large name-tags were clipped to their breast pockets.
A few wore plain, round- or V-necked, A-line pinafore dresses in black or bronze, with long-sleeved white shirts underneath, or scarves tucked into the neck or otherwise tied. The obvious Muslim women wore white head scarves, with trousers under their long-sleeved dresses.
Paul and I chose an Italian restaurant, ate a fresh salad, great heap of seafood pasta and vegetables, vegie juice and cappuccinos, then took our purchases to the flat to shower and change. This apartment was even more luxurious than the previous, evidently designed to impress visitors.
* * *
The tele-reporter, Cathy was decked out in vivid workout leggings and black hi-cut leotard. Two of her crew wore muscle pants and tiny singlets. Paul and I stuck to tight cherry t-shirts with our usual black bottoms. The other men assisting wore black bike or muscle pants and bronze singlets with their names emblazoned in gold-outlined black, front and back. Paul and I had our names on the backs only.
Over eleven hundred students were present. I asked everyone who did not wish to be filmed to please move away from the TV people who were all grouped on one side. There was more movement to that side than away from it. My assistants spread out in front of the group, some turned sideways, others with their backs to the students, though the mirrored wall showed their reflections in reverse.
I stood on a dais and demonstrated the first two kata slowly as the assistants and class followed. When those were understood, we moved among the class correcting stance.
The first breakthrough was a man in front of Ron, who immediately attacked him, raising gasps from near observers. By this time Ron understood that the first persons across the barrier may be confused and fight back viciously, so he was cautious, being sure to touch, not strike until the fellow twigged to what he’d done.
This guy was an oddball. As soon as he realized what he had achieved, he did a kind of circular Injun-type war dance, whooping and batting his mouth. This may have been intended to show his pleasure, but confused most of the class.
Fortunately a woman was the next to crack it. Paul handled her more gently and soon had her smiling.
Cathy was the third person to get there. Naomi sparred with her a while to demonstrate to her that she now had the skills and her body knew how to use them. Cathy was ecstatic, jumping up and down with joy, though some of that may have been put on for the camera, as, I belatedly realized, had the war dance.
I now gave my little speech and asked that the three persons who had crossed the barrier, join the staff in correcting stance in those still trying. They should also watch for anyone else who had developed perfect form and initiate them as they themselves had been, by sparring to show the newbie what they had accomplished.
Breakthroughs came continuously, thick and fast after that. The class conquered eight kata by the next break. Each of them learned to recognize perfect form in other students and helped get at least four of them over. All were overjoyed and proud of their achievement.
Cathy’s grin almost split her face as she and her offsiders came to thank me.
“You were sure right Taj. I would never have believed such a thing possible until I did it. I’ve always been a klutz at anything sporty, but that seemed really simple. Thanks for the free lesson. I’ll be back soon to finish the course.”
“I’ll be glad to see you here Cathy. You’re a natural and would probably be a very good martial arts teacher. You should be able to teach your cousin what you know now, a
nd help him feel as good as you do.”
* * *
We stayed two days, checking that everything was running well. In that time over four thousand women had joined the course and had moved in with their kids. Two more crèche levels had opened. I didn’t think there’d be enough jobs for so many, but working only 3-hour shifts and everything being open around the clock, allowed those who wanted it, to work two or three different types of jobs during the week and pick up new skills and knowledge.
Janine, who had kept all her qualifications up to date, put strong swimmers through life-saving courses to qualify as lifeguards and taught others how to teach swimming to various age groups. Her daughters taught swimercise variations and aerobics, as well as helping with the martial arts.
Some women had dance skills which they improved upon in other classes, then used those skills to teach dancercise to adults or basics to children. We had two lovely ladies who knew Balinese temple dancing and their classes were much in demand. Belly dancing in several styles also proved very popular.
I was interested too, seeing immediately that both styles could easily be arranged into kata. I’d do that sometime soon.
Several women had accounting skills and worked out short courses to teach others how to budget and organize their finances. Some taught classes in handicrafts. The products they made were quality graded and sold in the stalls. One woman worked leather to make original belts, headbands and bookmarks.
These modern women found astonishing resources in themselves, often picked up in childhood from aged relatives. Their self-confidence and strength grew and blossomed into new achievements.
I could see now why Maggie wanted these women for Galen—they were driven to succeed and had only needed a little initial help.
Two of the belly dancers decided to move to the other dojo which had no teachers of that art. Several others also decided to go with us.
The staff had all agreed that the self-defense courses would teach only savate to the highest level, the three most popular karate styles to black belt sixth dan, and a little judo and jiujutsu with the less dangerous disabling techniques. Anything more advanced would be arranged later when there was an established demand for it.