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Sinichi Tanaka stood, watching them for a moment. Then, the slightest of smiles creasing his wounded face, he backed quietly out of the room, leaving the two of them together. The men from Johannesburg would just have to wait.
The primary had business to attend to.
27
My body was asleep. My mind fluttered toward wakefulness. I heard their voices.
Father. Mother.
I was healing, coming back from the edge of the pit I have inhabited all of my life. I realized that there was love enough in all the world to bring me out.
Aubry Knight. Promise Cotonou. The two of you were born to love each other, that is clear. What I do not understand is how you tolerate my intrusion into your lives, how you make room for a small, unworthy creature who needed you … needs you … so desperately. Miracle of miracles, you love me still.
We are family.
I drifted back into dream. In that dream, I saw us together again, in a world large enough to ignore us, to let us live our lives and hold each other while there is still time. Death is too close, always. Only love holds back the night.
All of the powers of hell or heaven may strive to keep us apart, but they will fail. I swear it.
Mother. Father.
You cannot understand what you have done for me.
But you will.
AFTERWORD
I would like to thank Jeff Learned, Harley Reagan, Pendekar Paul De Thours, Steve Sanders-Mohammed, Ray Doss, Bobbi Laurens, Danny Inosanto, and Richard Dobson. Special thanks to the Awakening the Warrior Within folks: Dawn Callan, Robert Humphrey, Bob Bailey, and especially Gary Sullivan, who gave me the best and cruelest gift any man has ever given me. Bless you.
Dr. John LaTourette (a true wildman) has contributed more to a scientific understanding of the psychology of combat than any single individual I know of. His highly recommended texts and tapes can be ordered.
These are friends all, and contributors to my understanding of the martial arts I love so dearly.
Michael Kerr and Dr. Richard Landers, for technical assistance. Larry Niven for encouragement.
Beth Meacham, for patience above and beyond the call of duty.
Eleanor Wood, thou charming and ruthless one. A warrior in agent’s clothing.
To my daughter, Lauren Nicole Barnes, who taught me to love without reservation. And my wife, Toni, who waited patiently for me to discover that that was exactly what I needed to learn.
To my father. Dad, there has never been enough time. I think that we finally understand, and have said what we needed to say. If there is more, it has to boil down to: I love you. So I’ll just say that here, now, for the record.
To my most beloved sister, Joyce, and her children, Steven and Sharleen. May life be sweet to you, always.
To Patric, Nanette, Tomme, and Tom. Family. Period.
To Casey, Sandy, Angel, Adams, Donna, Victoria, Dan, Pat, and the rest of the Lifewriting/Firedance bunch: thanks for believing. Firedance is an actual technology that is being reclaimed from the mists of time. It promises to unleash the full spectrum of mental and physical capacities. It is currently in its infancy, and massive amounts of technical and practical research remain to be done. Those interested in what I call “Self-Directed Human Evolution” can write to: Ronin Arts Productions, 19425-B Soledad Canyon Road, Suite 183, Canyon Country, California 91351. Or call 805-251-2633.
A special thanks to Brenda, for a night with the Bolshoi, and to her malevolent spawn David, for Hide-and-Seek at Vasquez Rocks.
For Chuck and Mati at Yoga Works in Santa Monica, and K. Pattabhi Jois, whose beloved Ashtanga Yoga, thinly veiled, is the basis of the “Rubber Band” technique.
To Sri Chinmoy, whose astounding creativity (800 books, 6,000 songs, 7,000 poems, and 130,000 paintings!) and fully documented, unparalleled physical prowess (lifting 7,063¾ pounds??!) are evidence enough that miracles still exist.
And to all of the others who have added to my life, my understanding of the craft of writing, who have given me love and support and room to grow over the years
Bless you. Be gentle with each other. Life is short, and death lasts forever. Therefore, never carry anything in your heart which is heavier than a song.
Steven Barnes
Canyon Country, April 10, 1993
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