Redemption

by Dufour, Danny

  Suddenly, Danny saw one of the kids try to free the officer’s gun from his belt. At that moment, Namara burst into action. He came on them from behind like a gust of wind, seized the hand of the one that tried to take the officer’s gun and broke it with a jerk. The breaking of bones and the cries of the thug rang through the station. Half a second later, it was his two clavicles that broke under the impact of Namara’s double-punch. The first attacker writhed on the ground shouting in pain. Namara made a 180-degree turn to pounce on the second thug. Before even touching the ground in his jump, he broke his left knee on the reverse spin kick. The thug fell to the ground in a blaze of pain, but Namara caught him by the wrist to prevent him from going to the ground, because he wasn’t done with him. He broke his elbow by swinging a fist right to the joint. This time, he fell on the ground definitively. His face hit the floor hard. A spray of blood came from his mouth. The second thug, half-conscious, groaned. Namara approached the bloodied police officer seated on the ground.

  “Are you seriously hurt?” Namara demanded, already knowing the answer.

  “How… uhhh… I… no, I don’t think so,” said the office, still dazed and not really knowing what had happened right in front of him.

  “You ought to press that panic button and wait for reinforcements.”

  “Yeah… you’re right,” said the officer, and he obediently pressed it.

  The officer began to collect his thoughts and he realized that he had truly almost died. He looked at his two attackers who were half-dead and who were now stretched out on the ground, broken into pieces and completely out of commission. The whole scene had unfolded in a fraction of a second. He had seen a man arrive out of nowhere and he had crushed them with a blazing speed like a bolt hitting a tree.

  “You barely escaped, Officer Franklyn,” said Namara, inclining his head to read the name on the blue uniform of the NYPD.

  “Yeah… yeah… I… I guess… I… Thank you, a lot. Those two took me by surprise. They would have surely killed me if you hadn’t been there,” said the officer sitting on the ground who tried to stop the blood flow from his nose. Namara asked if his nose was broken; he wasn’t sure. One thing that is sure, he’ll survive his injuries.

  “You’re welcome. I saw that you were in trouble, I allowed myself to intervene,” said Namara in a calm voice.

  “Few men would have done what you did,” said the officer looking at his torn and bloodstained uniform. “In fact, mister, what’s your name?” he asked, raising his head to look at his saviour, but he realized that he was alone.

  The man had disappeared. All that was in the tunnel were the two thugs on the ground beside him. He noticed that beside one of them was a puddle of blood with three broken teeth scattered on the ground that had come out of one of the two hoodlums. The officer, who had sworn as a police officer to protect the weak, had almost died in duty that night. He was convinced that he had had the help of a guardian angel to protect him. This man had appeared like a vision to then leave. Officer Franklyn was convinced that this unknown man whose face he could never forget had saved his life and that, without him, his wife would have been a widow and his two children, fatherless.

  * * *

  He decided to see the sea on his day off. He took the N train toward Brooklyn to get to Coney Island and walk down the beach. When he arrived on the island, he could almost believe himself in another world. There was the oldest circus in the world and the time indicated to see the state of the attractions. Many rides were rusted by time and the buildings were faded by the sun and years. One could see tons of graffiti over the length of the walls. However, Danny liked to walk by, because he found that there was a sort of magic with the attractions and the beach. He had been surprised to notice the beauty of the beach and the quality of the sand for a place like New York. Tons of New Yorkers came for the weekend to relax and the island was filled with activities for the beautiful hot days. The operators shouted to draw people to their kiosks to win prizes. The rides went without stopping. Hundreds of pedestrians walked over the boardwalk spread over kilometres down the beach. The aroma of cotton candy and frying fish in the pair drifted out of numerous cart-restaurants that one found sprinkled everywhere.

  He had walked and sunbathed the entire day and he stayed on the beach to see the sunset at the ocean’s horizon. He had lain on the beach to close his eyes for a few seconds, then he drifted off to sleep by accident. When he awoke, the darkness was complete and there was nobody on the beach. It had to be close to midnight. Danny asked himself how he could have slept the whole time and he rose to take the train and return home. The place that had buzzed with daytime activities was completely deserted at night. The park was dark, the alleys deserted with the sea wind blowing from just off shore. All the rides and kiosks were shut with metal doors or grills. The presence of graffiti and the age of the buildings left the place lugubrious. He walked with a decided step without an apparent hurry and a few vapours of sleep. He told himself to get back to the house and eat, because he was famished. He was far from doubting that that day, which seemed peaceful in his eyes, would be a day that would change his life forever. He began to realize that aspect when he realized that he was being followed at a distance by three people. He glanced back to catch a glimpse under the guise of avoiding tripping so as not to alarm them.

  He saw that the three people were white and they had long hair that looked dirty. Everything indicated that they were hooligans or junkies in need, looking to attack him, rob him or indeed more. The pack had sensed prey and they looked for the opportune moment to unleash in keeping a certain subtle distance in the streets. He walked on the sidewalk a while when he spotted a public washroom. He entered with a rapid step and walked in to a urinal to simulate the expected action in such a place. The area was relatively vast, empty and dirty. There was a line of four urinals and four stall toilets on the other wall. The place was coated with white tiles and fluorescent lights. He stationed himself at the farthest urinal, glancing around with his peripheral vision at the entrance to his left. He wasn’t ready for a fight and he just wanted to get home. He hoped the three would decide not to enter or even that he was only imagining that they were following him. Seeing the three enter through the door, he concluded that he’d imagined nothing. He hated being right this time.

  He mimed pissing, whistling, looking at an imaginary point on the wall as though he hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone. He saw that one of the three closed the door and he heard a light click that indicated that they had locked the door so nobody could enter. That indicated something in Namara’s head. If they had only the intention to rob him, all that they would want, would be to save themselves the fastest possible to not get caught. They wouldn’t lock the door if it was their only goal. He knew that they were going to try by all evidence to kill him after stealing to avoid his pressing charges. It must have been junkies in need and he had to expect anything. One of the individuals approached him as though to take the next urinal over. Suddenly, he whipped out his knife with his right hand, pounced behind Namara and placed the blade against the small of his back.

  “Hey dude… hand over your wallet or I’m gonna cut you!” he whispered while the two others watched in retreat, apparently very nervous.

  “Ok, calm down… I’m going to give it to you, it’s in my pocket.”

  Namara hadn’t finished his sentence before he spun to his right so the blade couldn’t reach anything and he seized the hand holding the weapon at wrist level. With his other arm, he grasped at the junction of the elbow of his attacker and thrust his arm upwards, dislocating his shoulder and tearing the muscles. His attacker screamed, but Namara seized the knife and planted it into his neck in the carotid, rendering his attack fatal. The scream of his aggressor ceased in a heartbeat and he fell to the ground to empty himself of blood. Another junky pulled out a knife as well and cried while running toward him:

  “You son of a bitch! I’m gonna fuck you up!”

  Nama
ra blocked the knife blow that flew toward his stomach with his forearm and he seized the wrists to control the hand holding the weapon. With his other hand, he seized the Adam’s Apple and smashed it with his hand like a eagle claw closing on his prey. He heard this second hooligan’s Adam’s Apple rupture. He dropped the knife in a fraction of a second. Namara loosed an upward blow with his elbow from the bottom to top. His elbow hit directly under the jaw. The blow was so violent that his neck broke right away and death was instant.

  The third junkie drew on his shoulder and Namara used his momentum to throw on him and grab his neck in his two hands. He pulled his neck from the bottom and gave a powerful thrust of his knee that reached his face. He seized again his head and planted it directly into the urinal. The impact was violent enough that the urinal cracked along with his skull. The water began to spurt everywhere and the violence of the impact and the fight had loosed several wall tiles. Calm settled, except for the splash of water from the urinal.

  “What a mess!” Namara shouted, enraged, surveying the half-destroyed bathroom with three dead men sprawled on the floor.

  He unlocked the door and left at the same pace he’d entered. The place had the calm of death. He waited at the station for the subway train and realized that tonight, he had killed for the first time. He boarded the train to leave Coney Island that was empty of him also. The train left the island and Namara watched the immense buildings scroll by as he went by. During the time, the ocean wind continued to blow in the deserted alleys, swirling the litter left around by the vacationers present very early in the day.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Toe the line, gentlemen!” ordered the little referee.

  The gong resounded and Danny was now in his second Triad fight. He had sworn to never return, but when he realized that he once more had no money for rent, he checked the piece of paper that they’d given him and that he had left on the corner of his kitchen table. He didn’t think about it, but registered for another combat. This time, his opponent was a karateka who seemed well trained. Twice as big as Namara, the latter feared having difficulty controlling those long legs. He could see that he was in great shape and that he moved well. The karateka advanced on guard leaping toward him to demolish him while the crowd screamed in delirium incomprehensible chants. As it was his second time, the crowd recognized him and they screamed his name several times in support. The karateka launched a right kick that Namara blocked easily with his hand. His adversary, with a great agility in his legs, had used the kick as a trap. With Namara’s block, he took the opportunity to send him a kick directly in his side. Namara didn’t fall, but the impact was so powerful that he had four cracked ribs on that side. He tried to change his position by pivoting left of his opponent to avoid more blows.

  The karateka took the chance to send a punch right to the face, splitting his lip and bloodying his nose. At the impact, a jet of blood splashed the arena. The hit shook him up and he fell. He stayed there for a bit to gather his thoughts. He knew that the hits that he’d gotten were his fault. He had lost attention at the beginning of the fight and that loss won him these injuries. He tried to refocus, but his mind was confused because of the hits, the pain that he felt and the screams of the crowd that accentuated his confusion. Seeing that Namara was shaken, the karateka mounted another charge. This time, he sent him a punch directly to the face where he was hurt to finish him, but Namara seized the wrist in the flight of a second. With a quick movement, he pulled the arm of the karateka making him lose balance and, with the elbow of his opposite arm, shot a blow in his face. With the same elbow he propped on the forearm and it gave with a sharp break.

  The karateka yelled in pain trying to get out of the danger zone. Namara kneed him in the stomach and the karateka collapsed on the ground, paralyzed with pain. Namara took a great breath to regain his senses and the little ref thrust his hand in the air.

  “Namara, the winner!”

  The crowd wouldn’t stop shouting their satisfaction. They wanted more. Danny tried to wipe the blood that ran from his mouth and nose. They brought him a towel and money which he took. He left when he had his money. He was furious with himself. His inattention tonight could have cost him dear. He had gotten out, but he was hurt. He knew that he could have ended up in the morgue for his mistake. His ribs gave him atrocious suffering with every breath he took like his heart was going to split in two each time. Back at his place, he disinfected his wounds. He had lost plenty of blood, but his wounds had stopped bleeding. His bathroom sink was full of bloody red cloths with which he had cleaned his face. All the blood reminded him of Chandra and suddenly he felt like he was going to throw up. His head was turned. He left the bathroom holding his hide to seek out a bottle of bourbon that he had in his armoire. He turned on his little radio, sat on the ground against the wall and drank. With every mouthful, his wounds burned.

  He put away a few swigs and began to cry in silence in the dark of his apartment. He thought of Chandra. He didn’t have any fight left in him, he was tired. He asked why he had fought all these years to get here. He went to grab a knife and sat back on the floor. He placed the point of the blade against his wrist. He looked only for a reason to not do it. He couldn’t find one. The tears flowed and he continued to drink until the bottle was nearly empty. He pricked his wrist with the tip of the blade when he remembered Tim who must come to see him tomorrow to continue his training. If ever he did this, Tim would end up finding out what happened and that would indicate that he had failed in his task and that, overall, he had abandoned him. He wouldn’t be wrong. He pulled the tip out of his wrist and with a cry he stabbed the knife into the wall. He heard the blade’s vibration when the knife pricked into the wall.

  He continued to empty his bottle in the night, letting the tears mix with the alcohol and spill over him every time he took a sip. He looked out the window and saw three pairs of piercing yellow eyes watching him. He crawled over to it and saw that three black cats were sitting on the windowsill, staring at him.

  “Hey, buddies… what are you doing here?” muttered Namara, completely drunk.

  Suddenly, the cats reminded him of an old Egyptian legend that said the gods took the form of cats to guard and watch over the living.

  “I must really be sloshed to think about that stupid legend… eh?” he sniggered with sarcasm at the cats.

  He fell asleep there on the floor after a few seconds, alone and completely drunk. The three cats continued to look at him, still on his windowsill as though they were watching over him tonight like a certain Egyptian legend. Those that believed the legend would have certainly told Namara that the three nocturnal visitors were trying to tell him that he wasn’t alone as he believed and that his hour hadn’t yet come.

  * * *

  Tim ran with all his might, his attackers at his heels. He turned the corner of the street when he saw Danny waiting on the sidewalk near Ditmars and 42nd street. Tim out of breath, stopped to look at Danny. The troop and their leader stopped running upon seeing the grown-up with Tim. The leader stayed behind Tim telling himself that he would not do it for this time now that there was this man there who seemed to know him.

  “Hi Tim,” said Danny.

  “Hey,” Tim responded breathlessly.

  “You have to make a choice, you know… confront your fears or flee… it’s your decision.”

  Tim thought of his training and he recovered. His hands shook with nervousness. He turned to face his opponent, raising his guard. The leader of the gang smiled, saying that he would teach him a lesson in front of the group. He raised his guard as well and advanced toward him to hit him. He sent a hit directly that Tim blocked. As Danny had taught him, he immediately linked a direct punch that hit his opponent right on the face. He fell on his back, confused by the impact and Tim launched at him to continue sending a hail of fists. Tim’s young torturer tried to block the hits, but he was incapable. Danny advanced to separate the two kids.

  “You know that if I hadn’
t stopped Tim, you would have been worse messed up than your little friend!” said Namara harshly.

  Namara helped the kid on the ground to stand before facing Tim while the others watched the scene.

  “You must be ashamed that you took advantage of others that way. I hope that this teaches you a lesson!”

  The kid said nothing. He was by all evidence legitimately humiliated because of the situation that had unrolled in front of spectators. Tim and the other kid shook hands in truce and the group left. Tim stayed in place, still dazed at what had happened. He felt that he didn’t believe he had demolished that which scared him and at that, with a great ease to his great surprise. Tim smiled and he seemed to have an illuminated face as though a great weight had lifted off him. Danny understood that which he lived through in staying with him on the same corner of the street. He smiled.

  “You chose to face him and you won,” said Namara.

  “Yeah, but it’s because of you, because otherwise I wouldn’t have acted like that…”

  “You made your decision by yourself and if that was the decision you would have made, I wouldn’t have argued. I waited for you at the corner of the street. I thought they would follow you today.”

  “Yeah, but it was because of you…”

  “You owe me nothing, kiddo. It’s you alone that accomplished it. I’m really happy if you learned something, but I’m telling you that you gave me something, more than you think. So thanks!” said Namara, giving him the Wing Chun salute that Tim returned proudly with a smile.

  He went back to his house and Namara watched him leave, saying that today, time had learned to him a great lesson: to confront one’s own demons. He had seen the confidence that he’d won for himself at the moment when the other kid fell on the ground, won. He knew that the confidence never left now and was happy to have participated in it. He had fulfilled his promise. He walked toward his own house when his cell rang.