She scrunched her eyebrows together. “What?”
“I mean, if you take away the looks and the popularity, what kind of person do you think Kevin is?”
“I don’t know. A good one?”
Her face looked like he’d just asked her to describe the essence of Calculus. He could tell this wasn’t going to be an easy thing for her to grasp. Modern media seemed to portray ‘good’ as popular and attractive. When you combine those messages with teenage hormones, he could only imagine what it did to the pubescent brain. He tried another tactic. “How do you want people to treat you?”
“What? What are you talking about, Uncle Paul?”
He shook his head. He wanted to tell her his point. But if he did that, she wouldn’t truly learn anything. He had to give her the tools to make up her own mind, even if she came to the wrong conclusion. “Do you want to stand by and let people hurt others or do you want to be the one who helps others?”
He turned around and walked downstairs, hoping she’d learn.
Paul knew if Haverford saw him waiting outside his door, he’d take it out on David, so he waited around the corner.
“This is so unfair,” Kevin said, pointing an accusing finger at David. “He tripped.”
“That is my final word on the matter. Now close the door on your way out,” Haverford said from inside the office.
As soon as the door closed, Kevin shoved David.
“Kevin,” Paul said, as he stepped into their field of vision. Kevin noticed him and tried to throw up a plastic smile, but couldn’t muster it.
“I was just telling David to be careful,” he said, and stormed out of the office.
“What happened?” Paul asked.
“Assistant Principal Haverford gave us both in-school suspension.”
He hated that David had to suffer consequences on top of being bullied, but at least Haverford had done something. The bruise on David’s face had darkened. It was small, but Paul felt anger that Haverford had kept David in his office without getting him something for it. With Haverford’s fear of lawsuits, Paul was a little surprised he hadn’t called the nurse, but he guessed David’s father hadn’t promised an endowment, so he didn’t matter.
“Let’s get some ice for that,” Paul said.
They walked into the dining hall. Dinner had ended an hour ago, so the room was empty. He found a hand towel behind the serving line and dumped some ice in it. “Put this on your eye. The cold will burn, but it’s the best thing to keep the swelling down.”
David applied the cold pack and stared at the floor. After a few moments, he said, “I wanted to fight back, but I didn’t know how. And I was scared.”
Being scared of other people was no way to go through life. And Paul thought Kevin might want to get back at David again.
“If you wanted, I could teach you a few ways to stand up for yourself.”
His face brightened. “Really?”
He nodded. “But I’ll only teach you things to defend yourself. You do not start a fight. Understand?”
David nodded. “When can we start?”
Paul had nothing to do tonight. “How about now?”
Excitement washed over David’s face. They left the building and headed toward the gym. The topsy-turvy weather had settled on freezing. No snow, but the school custodian Ralph Chapel, who loved talking about the weather, kept predicting a huge Nor’easter was coming any day.
“What fighting moves will you teach me?”
There was an eagerness in his voice that Paul wanted to dispel. “I don’t want to give you the impression that fighting is cool or fun. It isn’t. And you should never start a fight—that’s for weak minded people who can’t use their brains to come up with a better solution.
“Learning to defend yourself first and foremost is about establishing a goal. Your goal should always be to protect yourself and those you care about and end the conflict in the safest and most effective way possible. That’s the key. Being safe and out of danger. Sometimes the best way to do that is to avoid a fight, understand?”
David nodded. “Establish a goal of being safe and out of danger. Got it.”
They entered the gym. It was a state of the art facility with shining weight benches, stairmasters, treadmills, and every other exercise equipment you could imagine. Only a few people were around at this hour.
“Next, you must observe your surroundings. Take note of whether the floor is slippery, what objects are around you that can use, what allies or adversaries are near, what escape routes are accessible, etc. Also take stock of yourself and your opponent. Are either of you injured or favoring a body part? You with me?”
They climbed the stairs and pushed through the second floor door. The cavernous room had a three lane track that circled a basketball court.
“Observe everything and everyone around me, check,” David said, looking at Paul like he was dispensing the wisdom of the ages.
As they found a corner mat, Erin walked in. She wore black leggings and a teal jacket. She waved and came over. She put her hand on David’s shoulder and said, “I heard about what happened. Are you all right?”
“Yes, Miss. Randolph. Mr. Taylor, I mean, Mr. T, was just about to teach me self-defense.”
Paul inwardly groaned. He knew Haverford and some other teachers would freak if they learned he was teaching a student self-defense. But David’s black eye demonstrated Kevin didn’t realize the unintended damage his size and strength could inflict.
Erin glanced at Paul and raised her eyebrow. “Oh really?” Her expression wasn’t critical. It was as if she was surprised he’d do something like that. “Well,” she started stretching next to them. “Carry on, then.”
“As I was saying, after you’ve established your goal and observed everything around you, analyze that information. Theorize about your opponent’s capabilities and compare them to your strengths and weaknesses. Then you analyze the consequences of possible actions. Will your actions make the situation worse in the future, or better?”
David nodded.
“Finally, you decide what to do. It could be something as simple as bluffing your opponent to make him leave, or, as a last resort, it could be fighting. It’s a cost versus benefits game. Make sure whatever you do benefits you more than your opponent.”
“I understand,” David said.
“Figured you would. But just in case you forget, remember this acronym: GOAD.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Goal, observe, analyze, then decide.” David recited the words as if he’d known them all his life.
Erin started her run.
“Now, I’m going to teach you one move tonight. It’s a leg sweep. Watch carefully.” He put his weight on his left leg and swung his right in an arc in front of him. Paul repeated the movements several times. He observed David, who was watching intently. “Now, imitate me.”
David did so, and Paul observed him.
Erin ran by them. Her legs moved in long, elegant strides that ate up the track. Her shoulders looked relaxed, and her arms moved back and forth in an easy rhythm. Few things were sexier than a woman confidently running.
David looked up at Paul and caught his eyes on Erin. Paul quickly refocused on their training.
“Sink your hips lower. It’ll lower your center of gravity so someone can’t push you over while you’re doing the move.”
He nodded and sank his hips lower and repeated the leg sweep.
“Good. Now, try to sweep my leg out from under me.”
David looked unsure. “Go on.”
He practiced the move and it had no effect.
“This move is effective when your opponent has most of their weight on the extended foot. You’ll need to wait for that to happen before you use it.”
He nodded. They faced each other and Paul moved toward him as if he was about to attack. David used the leg sweep and Paul stumbled forward.
“Are you okay?” David asked.
“Yeah.
And that’s exactly how you should do it. But you’ll almost always be fighting someone bigger than you, so you need to use GOAD and find the right time to act.” They faced each other again. “Let’s go again.”
They continued this training using both his left and right leg for a long while. When Paul noticed David sweating and sucking in his breath, he said, “Let’s stop. You’re doing very well, but this move will take time to master.”
“Thank you, Mr. T,” David said. He started to leave, but turned back. “You said that I’d almost always be fighting people bigger than myself. What happens if they’re too big?”
Paul didn’t want to give David false confidence, and he also wanted to prepare him for reality. Sometimes you lost. The scar on his chin itched and he scratched it.
“That’s why it’s so critical to not only learn GOAD, but understand it. There may come a time when you get in a situation that is too much for you to handle. When that happens, you either find something or someone to even the odds—or you run.”
David’s mouth became a taught line. “Thanks, Mr. T.” Then he left.
Erin finished her run and walked over to the mat. Paul glanced at the digital clock on the wall. She had run five miles in under thirty minutes. She breathed heavily but wasn’t winded. Impressive. She walked toward the mat.
“You are a mystery Mr. Taylor. You put a wall between yourself and your colleagues but you’re here at night helping a student.”
Paul blinked. The criticism seemed to crystalize the subtle comments Jacob Li had illuminated when he asked how Paul viewed school and his desire to help David. It made him realize how perceptive Erin was and reinforced Jacob’s cleverness.
“I like this Taylor better,” Erin said, smiling.
Her smile reminded him of Shelly and how she’d encouraged him to stop isolating himself.
“Please, call me Paul.”
“Paul it is then.” She stretched on the mat. “You’re teaching David to protect himself because you think Kevin will hurt him again?”
“I do.”
“And GOAD will do that? From what I heard as I passed by, it didn’t sound like the self-defense I was taught.”
“Self-defense is a lot like clothes. Many styles, but only a few fit each person well.”
“Don’t tell me you’re comparing something to fashion. This is the first time I’ve seen you without khaki pants, a blue shirt, and some crazy tie.”
“I guess that is ironic,” he said, laughing. He’d started the khaki and blue shirt thing because the FBI had frozen all his assets and they were the cheapest things he could find. What he found was that he liked not having to think about clothes.
Erin stood up. “So what self-defense size would you call me?” She put her hands on her hips and kicked one leg out in a semi-pose.
Warning bells went off in his head. This was a trap. He’d learned through hard experience to never comment on a woman’s figure.
She laughed, and he guessed she was ribbing him.
“What, you don’t think a woman can be good at fighting?”
“No, that’s not it at all,” he said. “I had a female instructor who regularly kicked my ass. It’s just that there’s a difference between self-defense classes you learn at a gym and the training you get from professionals.”
“You learned from professionals, huh?”
Paul realized he’d revealed too much and kept quiet.
“Okay, let’s see how good you are,” she said, assuming a fighting stance.
He sighed. If he didn’t practice with her, she’d assume he didn’t respect her abilities. If he did, he might reveal more about his undercover past than he wanted.
Paul didn’t see a way out of this now, he’d just have to play down his experience. He assumed a normal standing pose. She lunged forward with a right cross, and he brought up his left arm and grabbed her wrist, but disengaged.
She must have guessed he was holding back, because she said, “Oh, hell no, you are not going to go easy on me because I’m a woman.”
“That’s not…” he said. Before he could explain further, Erin attacked with a quick series of blows: right cross, spinning roundhouse kick to his left, then a leg sweep. He blocked or caught all of them. She repeated those moves in random order. Whatever class she’d completed, she’d learned the moves well, but her instructor hadn’t taught the subtle things like faking a move or guarding yourself from counterattacks.
Every move he blocked, however, made her madder. She quickened her attacks. His breath came in gasps. His left shoulder blazed with pain, and he felt it go limp.
“Enough,” he finally said, panting.
She was breathing heavily, but seemed satisfied he’d called it quits before she did. He put his arms on his head to help his breathing, but the left one wouldn’t respond.
“What’s up with your arm?” she asked.
“Old injury,” he said. “It’ll be all right in a minute.”
“How’d you get it?”
He hadn’t intended to lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth. She’d be thrown in jail. “Seal wrangling. Those little devils can be tough if you don’t watch them.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
She said nothing for a second, then burst out laughing. “Stop it,” she said. “That’s not even sarcasm. It’s…”
“I call it a sarcastically fanciful narrative.” The strength in his arm was returning.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“The past is in the past,” he said, realizing the irony of his statement.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand you. You won’t talk about your past, you speak languages you don’t tell anyone about, and you’re a great fighter. I was the best in my self-defense class. But you weren’t even really fighting, you were just blocking my attacks.”
He wanted to explain himself, but he had to downplay his training. Learning about his Top Secret past would put her in danger. “You executed the moves beautifully. You have a real talent. But typical self-defense classes focus on a few scenarios. You did the same three moves over and over again. It was easy to predict.”
“But if you had attacked me from behind, I could have crippled you.”
“That’s what I mean. You were taught scripted moves. If you had car keys, you could have gouged my eyes out, and if I had grabbed you from behind, you could have flipped me. But those require your attacker to be in certain positions and do specific actions. In the real world, that rarely happens.”
“You sound like you speak from experience,” she said.
He opened his mouth to say something ridiculous like, ‘I trained with boxing kangaroos in Australia,’ but he didn’t think his sarcastically fanciful narratives would work twice with her. She was too intuitive. He decided on part of the truth. “For my last job, I had to travel a lot. I was trained to handle real-world situations.”
“Think you could teach me?”
That was an interesting prospect. He desperately needed to get back into shape. He was still sore from his Montreal excursion. This could help him. “If you’re interested. But you’ll have to go easy on me. I haven’t trained in a while.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “I’ll train you to be a better runner if you show me better self-defense techniques.”
His arm was back to normal and his breathing had eased. He stretched it out and said, “Deal.”
“So what self-defense size do you think I am?” she said, smiling coyly.
He laughed. “Not falling for that.”
“Oh, come on,” she said, stretching with him.
“You’ve got the instincts of a fighter, and you’ve got speed and endurance. I think Jiu-Jitsu would be good for you.”
“You could teach me that?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We can work on making you unpredictable too.” He grabbed his jacket. “I think I’m done for the night. You staying?”
“No, I’m interested in this. I w
ant to keep talking,” she said, grabbing her jacket and following him out.
“Why did you take self-defense classes?” he asked.
“Wait,” she said, “you want me to talk about my past, but you won’t talk about yours?”
“Fair enough,” he said. He’d evidently touched a nerve.
They walked down the stairs in awkward silence. As they exited the gym, she said, “Why do you ask?”
“Because self-defense is an exercise of the mind,” he said. “It takes time and a lot of effort. You have to be intelligent, focused, and driven. People generally become driven out of necessity or because of something they’ve seen or experienced.”
They walked out into the night. The sky was clear above them, and the billions of stars looked like diamonds on black velvet. The cold air burned his nose and lungs.
Erin looked on the verge of telling him something. He didn’t pressure her. She needed to feel comfortable telling him whatever was on her mind.
After a minute or two, she said, “In college, I dated this guy. He was nice and good looking. He was even studying to become a doctor.” She paused. “After a few weeks, I realized he was too possessive. I stopped responding to his texts, hoping he’d get the hint, but that only seemed to make him more obsessed.
“One night, he got drunk and showed up at my apartment when my roommates were gone. He wanted to come in, but something was ‘off’ about him, so we spoke through the chain.” She folded her arms across her chest protectively. “When I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore, he became crazy and busted the chain. I ran to the kitchen, throwing tables and chairs in his way. I reached for a knife, but he grabbed me from behind. I yelled for him to get off, but he held tight and I couldn’t break free. Luckily, two guys from the apartment next door heard me. They rushed in and tackled him.”
He watched her. Her face was expressive, as if the memory was sharp in her mind, but it didn’t seem to crush her spirit, as if she’d accepted it and moved on.
“If it hadn’t been for those two neighbors, I don’t know what would have happened.”
The Italian Deception Page 11