Fledgling: Jason Steed

by Mark A. Cooper

  Jason walked off toward the children. They were running around playing “touch.”

  The queen and the duke had four children: Cuthbert, age fourteen; Louise, twelve; Henry, ten; and Catherine, almost five. Jason looked at the children running around. He was not one for playing games. To him, it looked like a waste of time.

  Jason walked off down to the palace gardens, which started at the end of a long, well-manicured lawn. A neatly trimmed hedge surrounded two huge weeping willow trees. In the center of the trees was a large pond with some very expensive koi carp given to the queen from the Japanese prime minister.

  Jason walked over to the pond and sat at the edge, watching the fish. The pond was very deep and had a stone lion in the center with water pouring from its mouth.

  “Do you like apples?” A tiny voice came from behind the trees. Jason looked up and could just see a small figure through the trees. As he walked through the weeping willow branches, he saw a little girl about his age wearing a pretty white and pink dress. She had curly blond hair with pink bows. She held her dress up, trying to hold as many apples as she could pick up. She did not seem to mind that she was revealing her underwear.

  “Yes, I like apples. May I pick one myself?” Jason asked walking under the apple tree. She looked at Jason and smiled. He reached to the lower branches and picked an apple.

  “Let me check it. If it has a maggot in it, you will be ill,” she said, sitting down on the grass and spilling her apples around her. She took the apple from Jason and studied it. She took a bite.

  “It’s a good one,” she said with a mouthful of apple, passing it back to Jason, who sat down next to her. Jason took a large bite, and they smiled at each other.

  “I’m Catherine. I will be five on Wednesday. What is your name?”

  “Jason Steed. I was five two months ago.”

  Jason wasn’t sure how much time passed. He only knew that he was having more fun than he’d had since he’d arrived. Catherine showed him how to make daisy chains. She put one around his neck. He made a bracelet for her wrist. They also searched for four-leaf clovers. She told him they would bring him good luck if either he or she could find one.

  “Look, a maggot,” Catherine said. It wriggled in her fingers. “I am going to feed it to the fish.” Jason followed her to the pond. She held the maggot at arm’s length and let it dangle, attracting the koi carp.

  “Catherine, get away. You can’t swim!” a voice shouted.

  It was Cuthbert. Startled, she lost her balance and fell into the water with a splash. The onlookers shrieked and started running. Catherine had gone under and had not come back up. Even the queen herself picked up her dress and ran. Jason didn’t hesitate. He simply dove in.

  The pond was icy cold. It was like being hit by a cricket bat. As he struggled with the weight of the water pulling on his clothes, he kicked off his shoes, wriggled out of his new coat, and reached for Catherine. His hand found her soft, warm arm, and he pulled her up. Once she had her head out of the water and had taken a breath, she started to panic, pushing Jason under the water. He came up and grabbed a breath of air, got under her body, and pushed it toward the edge. She was screaming and choking. He held his breath and continued to push her toward the edge. She was very heavy, but he summoned enough strength to pull her up out of the water.

  Catherine shivered on all fours, coughing and crying. Jason put his hand on her back and tried to comfort her.

  Ray outpaced the other guests and arrived first. He scooped Catherine up in his arms and started carrying her back toward the palace. Jason, who now had also lost a sock, followed behind, pulling out slimy water weeds from his hair.

  The duke took Catherine from Ray. She was coughing and crying. “I believe she may have swallowed some water,” Ray informed him.

  “What was one doing by the pond, dear?” asked the queen, wiping the girl’s face with her hand. They carried her into the palace. Ray turned and looked down at Jason. He still had pond weed on his face and head.

  “Sorry, Dad, I lost my new coat, shoes, and a sock.” He pointed down to his bare pink foot. For a moment, he feared his father was going to be enraged, but Ray broke into a shaky smile and then laughed as he bent down and picked him up.

  “You have no idea how proud of you I am, son. Well done, Jason. Gosh, you are cold. We better get you out of these wet clothes.”

  ***

  The following morning, Ray was up early as normal and took a run around the house grounds—a two-mile course. As he approached the house, he heard a strange noise. It sounded like someone crying out in pain. As he rounded the corner, he found Jason barefoot, wearing just his underwear.

  He was performing his karate katas.

  For a few minutes, Ray stood watching his son perform the movements with precision, speed, and grace. At each strike or kick, Jason gave a “keeah” shout.

  Just as Ray got dressed, the doorbell rang. He walked to the front door and saw a man with a black car parked down at the front gates. Ray hurried down to greet him.

  The stranger looked to be in his late fifties and was slightly overweight, wearing a black suit and tie. He had balding gray hair and looked very pale too. His appearance reminded Ray of an undertaker.

  “Can I help you, sir?” Ray asked.

  “I am Archibald, her majesty’s head butler. I have an invitation for Master Jason Steed,” Archibald said, passing a sealed letter to Ray through the gate.

  “Thank you, sir,” Ray said, opening the envelope. After he read it, he gave a broad smile.

  “Archibald, is it customary to bring a gift? I have no idea what is expected at a kid’s party. Any ideas for a five-year-old princess?” Ray asked.

  “Sir, I would let Jason choose something. Can I inform the palace he will be attending?” Archibald asked.

  “Yes, he will be there. It’s an honor. Thank you.” Ray walked into the house and found Jason standing at the fridge, drinking milk directly from the glass bottle.

  “Is that how a guest of the princess behaves?” Ray asked, startling Jason. He jumped and spilled some milk down his chest.

  “What guest of a princess?” Jason asked, puzzled.

  Ray wiped off his milk moustache and passed the invitation to Jason.

  Jason looked at the note. He could read his name and some of the other words but failed to make any sense of the message. After a few minutes, Ray pointed at the words with Jason and helped him read them:

  Master Jason Steed. Her Royal Highness Princess Catherine invites you to her fifth birthday party on Wednesday, 2:00 p.m.

  It was signed by Catherine in her own writing.

  “Dad, I can’t go. Nana and Granddad Macintosh are coming from Scotland to see us before we go home.”

  “They are coming today. The party is tomorrow. Now, put the milk away or get a glass, and don’t drink out of the bottle again. What sort of impression will that give your grandparents?”

  “It will show them I do just as my dad does,” Jason said, giving a cheeky grin.

  ***

  When the Macintoshes arrived, they started weeping. Jason was confused, but he said nothing. His grandparents had spoken on the phone and seen pictures, but they had not seen him since their daughter’s funeral. His grandmother kept kissing him, and Jason found the affection a little overwhelming. He did enjoy hearing stories about his mother when she was a child.

  Ray asked if Mrs. Macintosh would give Jason’s hair a cut. Jason insisted on leaving his blond hair long enough in front to cover his eyes. Because she did not want to upset her only grandchild, she agreed, leaving his blond bangs down over his eyes. Ray said nothing. He wasn’t even terribly annoyed. He had gotten used to seeing his son’s hair like this.

  ***

  The following afternoon, Ray took Jason back to Harrods to buy a gift for Catherine. Jason chose a pair of inflatable armbands. He thought her father should teach her to swim. Once they arrived at the palace, Jason was surprised by the attention he got. S
ome of the palace security and police came and shook his hand. They called him “our little hero.”

  Jason followed a footman through the great halls of the palace. He looked up at the huge paintings and large sculptures. The hallways were bigger than anything he had ever seen before. He passed door after door until they arrived at a long corridor where Henry, Cuthbert, and Louise were waiting.

  “Giles, we will take Jason to the party,” Cuthbert told the footman. Jason, still nervous, smiled and nodded. He followed them into a large room. Pink and white balloons hung from the ceiling. The Beatles played in the background. In the center of the room was a large table full of colorful food. He could see Catherine in the corner sitting on the floor with a group of girls around her age.

  “Jason Steed, welcome and please let me say thank you. You are our hero. We will never forget what you did,” the duke said, shaking Jason’s hand. The girls and Catherine looked up when they heard his name and stared at Jason. He started to blush when the queen walked in front of him, holding out her hand.

  “Hello, Jason. May I say how grateful we all are? We owe you a great debt for your courage,” her majesty said.

  “Thank you, ma’am” was the barely audible reply.

  Catherine came and thanked him for coming. They sat next to each other at the large table and ate. She promised Jason that she would learn to swim. Jason did not join in the party games; he just wanted to watch. Later, she showed Jason her new dolls, something he hated but went along with.

  As the party ended, Catherine wanted to walk with Jason down to meet his father. When they said good-bye, she leaned forward and kissed him. It stunned Jason. He had never been kissed by a girl before, but he liked it.

  Once in the car, his father teased him. “Boy oh boy, you are starting early.”

  ***

  Back in Hong Kong, it took Jason almost a year to complete his black belt in tae kwon do. Once he had it, he wanted to learn more. Wong Tong had told him once of an ancient form of Japanese martial art called jujitsu. It was an art that used the opponent’s strength and force of attack as a weapon against him. In Hong Kong, there was a dojo and a grand master. The other students at Jason’s dojo had talked about this mysterious old man who had spent his life training in jujitsu. He would only teach twelve students at any one time and only taught the very best. Jason asked Mai Lee to take him, but she refused, saying it would be a waste of time. Plus, Wong Tong still had much to teach him.

  Jason was normally put to bed at seven o’clock each night, but he could never sleep for more than an hour or so at a time. One night, after Mai Lee had put him to bed, he got up, dressed, and climbed out of his window. He crept through his backyard and climbed the eight-foot wire fence into the marine’s assault course. For two hours, he climbed the rope ladders, ran the courses, and crawled through the tunnels. Every single night, he would go there and spend as much time training as he could. He used a stopwatch his uncle Stewart had given him as a gift.

  When he wasn’t at school, he would time the marines around the course. The fastest marine he timed was seven minutes and six seconds. The slowest was nine minutes and eighteen seconds. His own time was over fifteen minutes, but each night, he got faster and faster. Eventually, he could complete the course in less than ten minutes. Mai Lee could never understand how Jason’s knees and hands were always dirty, cut, and bruised in the morning.

  ***

  Later that fall, Jason wore Mai Lee down, and she agreed to take him to see the grand master at the jujitsu dojo. Jason wore his karate gi with his black belt. They had to wait two hours before they were shown in.

  Jason bowed as he entered. “Grand master, I would like to be a student of jujitsu please,” he said.

  The grand master looked the small boy up and down and asked, “What is that belt? What school?”

  “It’s a black belt for tae kwon do, sir.”

  “You are too small, boy. How old?” came his rapid reply.

  “Six, sir.”

  The grand master nodded and smiled.

  “Okay, you come back before you are eight with two more black belts from two different schools, and I’ll teach you.”

  The task was impossible, but Jason respected the grand master enough not to argue. He thanked him, bowed, and left. The same day, Jason enrolled in the judo school held at HMS Tamar, and on the following day, he enrolled at a Shotokan dojo. He also continued to go to Wong Tong’s dojo twice a week.

  The judo was the hardest for him to master. He was only six after all. The next youngest student in the group was ten. This style was a lot more physical. He struggled and grew tired of constantly being thrown on his back, but the lessons he learned about defending himself against bigger and heavier opponents would help him in ways he could not even imagine.

  ***

  By the time he was nearly eight, Jason went to his first competition. He was especially excited because his father was home and had promised to watch.

  As it turned out, Ray never showed up.

  Jason spent much of the time watching the door to see if his father would come. He was so distracted that he lost in the final round to a thirteen-year-old boy. Wong Tong saw it as a victory, for Jason was half the size of his opponent and could have won—that is, if he had concentrated. The victory was in the lesson.

  Jason passed his extra two black belts and also collected a second Dan black belt (a higher grade in tae kwon do). On top of that, Jason was learning to speak Japanese from his karate instructor at the Shotokan dojo. He was ready to talk to the grand master once again.

  ***

  Now eight, bigger, and wearing a smart new gi, Jason walked himself to the jujitsu dojo to apply. The grand master sat in a large gold and red throne-like chair. His students sat cross-legged around him. Jason recognized Jet Chan, a thirteen-year-old karate champion. His picture was often in martial arts magazines. Jason approached, carrying a black belt in each hand and his second Dan black belt around his waist, and then bowed.

  “Hello, grand master. Thank you for seeing me again,” Jason said in his broken Japanese. “I have two additional black belts, plus a second Dan in tae kwon do, sir. Please, can I become a student, sir?”

  The grand master looked very surprised to hear him speaking in his native tongue and nodded. He replied in English.

  “When is your eighth birthday, boy?”

  “Yesterday, sir.”

  “I see. So, you failed me. I told you to return before you are eight.”

  Jason looked stunned. “Yesterday was Sunday, sir. I collected my black belt from judo on Saturday,” Jason argued.

  “I don’t accept excuses. You failed. However, you have done very well for one so small. Come back in six months with another black belt, and I will consider it.”

  Jason was so angry that he started to shake. He had learned from his first nanny, Miss Watson, how to deliver a look that could kill and planted “the look” on the grand master.

  It was impossible to get a new black belt in six months. He felt he had done more than he had been asked to do. He noticed Jet Chan laughing at him. Jason turned and started to walk away. He hoped this movement would show disrespect.

  “Boy,” Jet Chan called out.

  Jason, whose eyes were welling up, stopped and turned.

  “You have all these belts and yet you are not honorable. You should know you bow before you leave. If you don’t, it is a sign of disrespect,” Jet Chan said.

  Jason took a few steps forward. “Martial arts is honor, respect, and discipline. How can your grand master teach me honor when he has none?” Jason replied. Again, he turned to walk away.

  Jet Chan stood in his path.

  “How dare you insult our dojo and the grand master. There is an old Japanese saying—”

  “I don’t want to hear your old Japanese saying. There is an old British saying—up yours.”

  A gasp erupted from the students. Jason’s pulse picked up a notch. The students formed a circle around
him, standing ready to attack. Jason dropped his belts, crouched in a fighting stance, and stood ready on his toes, ready to protect himself despite the odds. What a fool he had been, he told himself. He would be very lucky to get out without any broken bones. For a few tense moments, his attention was on every move and sound around him.

  The grand master stood and gave a loud clap of his hands and told his students to stand down. He admired the courage of Jason. He nodded a slight bow to Jason and gestured with his hand for him to go. No one had ever stood up to him before, and perhaps he had been a little hard on the boy. But he didn’t change his mind. With a wave of his gnarled hand, Jason was dismissed.

  ***

  By April 1973, Jason had just turned ten—and he had a new black belt in kung fu and a third Dan in tae kwon do.

  Wong Tong entered him into a competition. He would have to fight in the under-fifteen-years-old category. Many of his opponents would be up to five years older than him, but Wong Tong said he was more than ready.

  Meanwhile, Jason had expanded his nighttime activities. He continued to practice on the assault course, but he had also found a way to break into the flight simulator room. The small window in the men’s toilet was never locked, so he could climb up and pull himself in.

  At night, he taught himself to fly a variety of aircraft and helicopters. It was like a huge game for him. At first, he would crash, but slowly, he mastered how to take off, fly, and land.

  Ray came home to Hong Kong the day before the competition. He told Jason he had some great news to tell him but wanted to wait until after the competition. He never did explain why he’d missed the competition two years before.

  Maybe he has a girlfriend, Jason told himself.

  ***