The Light Between The Shadows

by Tsukiko Spark

  It took five students to stop him, as he was buff and muscular by then, and drag him into the principal’s office. His father arrived at the school some time later. He usually sent one of his assistants to handle his son’s problems, but this time he showed up himself, and he seemed upset. The principal informed Amos that his son would not be continuing at the school and instructed him to take Ben home.

  Father and son didn’t speak during the drive home. When they reached their house, Amos locked his son inside his room and told him he would stay there until it was decided how to handle him.

  He stayed in the room for nearly two days, taking only food and bathroom breaks. Time seemed like an eternity to him, mainly because of the fear of the unknown. To alleviate his fear and boredom, he watched TV channels that showed a marathon of Rohan Rough movies—he was a film star who specialized in martial arts, mainly aikido. The more Ben watched the movies, the more he was lured by the actor’s effective and elegant fighting style. He watched how, with concentration devoid of fear or emotion, the actor’s character managed to defeat his enemies and even humiliate them at times.

  For the first time in his life, something truly interested him. He began taping the movies and repeating the aikido movements in front of the screen. He was athletic and he learned the moves easily. Later, he began reading about the art in magazines and books he had found.

  When his punishment was over, Amos’s personal assistant, Josh, came to talk to him. They sat in the posh living room, Ben’s concern growing even more.

  “Your father decided to send you to a military academy,” Josh began. “He believes you need a different educational approach to be better set up for life, more like your brother Joe.”

  “A military academy? No way!” he yelled. “And why couldn’t he come here himself and talk to me?”

  “Your father has a lot of work. As it is, he missed out on quite a bit to handle the nonsense you engage in. You’re going to the military academy in a week! Use the time to say good-bye to your friends.”

  “No academy. I’ll run away!” He continued yelling resolutely.

  “You can’t run away. Where will you go? Your father has all the means to find you and drag you back here.”

  “So I’ll move to a different country… Japan!”

  “Japan? What on earth will you do in Japan?” the assistant asked in surprise.

  “I’ll study at an aikido school!”

  Josh sighed. He felt bad for the boy and wanted to help him.

  Aikido? Japan? Who knows, maybe in a faraway place like that he’ll find stability in his life, he thought. “Let me see what I can do.”

  He left the living room and engaged in a long phone conversation in the next room. He returned after some time and sat down next to young Ben.

  “Okay. Your father agrees; you’ll travel to Japan tomorrow. I’ll take care of the flight arrangements and provide some money for the trip and for getting settled. I guess at some point in life you need to go with what you believe in; I just hope this is the right path for you. And hey, if everything goes smoothly, your father might even see you before the flight.”

  He didn’t.

  Ben snapped out of his memory, thinking, A different educational approach? Is that what it was? That’s what my father wanted, for me to be more like my brother, Joe. Maybe this time he chose to send me to an extreme place? Maybe he ordered this treatment for me?

  It suddenly dawned on him that Shira would be coming back soon with a more severe punishment for him. Damn her. She also wants to reeducate me. Everyone wants to reeducate me. His mind whispered desperately.

  Shira returned late at night. She entered the studio and sank down at the table. “What am I going to do with you?” she asked in frustration. “Your behavior has gone too far! I cannot trust you at all!” Her anger was harsh and severe. “I won’t allow any disrespect of another’s life, not even that of a cat!” She sighed. “You have to learn, perhaps for the first time in your life, that your horrid actions bear consequences. They cannot be overlooked!

  “As I said before, I have zero tolerance for violence! Therefore, you will be given one of the worst punishments I can give. You will learn the lesson, and hopefully it will be etched in your consciousness so that you never think of repeating such behavior ever again!”

  She sat down in front of him and hooked his collar to a short chain near the mattress. Ben felt the anxiety rising in his throat ready to explode.

  She stopped for a short pause. “I’m going to place you in a closed chest for twenty-four hours.”

  He retracted, his body moving back as he shook his head from side to side in terror, signaling her not to do it.

  “I’m sorry, but you haven’t left me much choice. I realize it’s hard for you to accept it, but my decision has been made.”

  He continued shaking his head, and his body curled inward as if he had folded into himself.

  “As always, you must agree to it; until you agree, I won’t continue your treatment.” She stopped again and gave him time to digest his punishment. “Do you agree?” she asked after a while.

  He shook his head once more.

  She helped him relieve himself, but she didn’t perform any other duties. She led him back to his spot and tied him to the shortest chain.

  “Okay, I’m going to sleep. I hope you’ll change your mind by morning.”

  DAY 28

  Ben didn’t change his mind by morning.

  Shira kept with the same tactic, but he didn’t consent even by lunchtime.

  “Look,” she finally said that evening, “you’re tied to the shortest chain as it is. You can’t see, you can’t eat, you’re wearing a gag and leg cuffs. Adding a small thing to limit your movement won’t make a difference… It’s only hard psychologically.”

  He was close to desperation; he huffed.

  “Does that mean you agree?”

  He wanted to say a few things on the matter, ask a few questions, but it was impossible. She had crushed him again. He had no choice. He nodded.

  “Okay. Let’s go to the bathroom so you can relieve yourself and freshen up first.” She knew that despite what she said about being placed in the chest, it was not going to be simple, and she wanted to ease things for him as much as she could.

  “I’m hooking you up to a catheter, okay?”

  He hated the idea but didn’t want to face the unpleasantness of turning down her offer. She hooked him to the device. This time, he was awake and felt this uncomfortable procedure. He took it all in stride without complaining. Then they returned to the studio.

  She wheeled in a wooden chest the size of a dresser from the storage room. She opened the box, padded its bottom with a soft blanket, and helped him settle inside, his legs slightly folded in front of him since there was no room to straighten them. His heart began to pound. She shoved a large pillow between his legs, which were still cuffed. Then she took a long strap and wrapped it around his legs. She slipped another large pillow behind his back.

  Then she pulled out a heart rate monitor from her gym bag, wetted its edges, and strapped it to his chest. She placed the watch on her wrist.

  “Now I’m going to hook you up to an IV; make a fist.”

  Ben didn’t feel the needle; the adrenaline was rushing through his body.

  She slipped the catheter and IV bag through slits in the chest so they could be seen from outside. Finally, she took the lid and slid it in its track, leaving his head outside the chest. A semicircular niche surrounded his neck. She fastened the lid with a clasp.

  “I want to remind you not to shout or try to talk, or else I will be forced to add more time for you in here, and believe me—I don’t want to.”

  He nodded.

  “Now I’ll place earphones on your head.”

  He didn’t understand why.

  S
he took earplugs and inserted them into his ears. He wriggled inside the chest. “Umm!”

  “Twenty-five hours,” she said loudly. Then she placed the earphones on his head; playing some sort of white noise.

  “Umm!” He was anxious.

  “Twenty-six hours.”

  But he no longer heard her. He couldn’t change anything. She covered his earphones with a hat that had ear muffs and tied the strings of the hat under his chin. Finally, she placed a small wooden box with ventilation holes over his head and fastened it to the chest with clasps. She dangled the chain hooked to Ben’s collar through a designated slit. Now his entire body was inside the chest.

  She covered the entire chest with a large white tablecloth and wheeled it back into the storage room.

  She looked at the watch that monitored his heart rate, which indicated that his pulse was skyrocketing. She closed the storage room door and went to work at her desk in the studio.

  Throughout the entire evening, she peeked at the raging heart monitor. His pulse only began to decrease toward nightfall.

  DAY 29

  In the morning, after she woke up, Shira went to check on Ben. She opened the storage room door and looked at the covered chest. Silence. She glanced at the watch again. It seemed that he was awake inside.

  She changed the bags. After that, she found herself pacing back and forth aimlessly around the studio.

  The phone rang.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  A friend on the other end of the line wanted to congratulate her on her birthday. Because of the latest developments, she’d almost forgotten she had made plans to go out and celebrate her thirty-third birthday with her friends. Now she had to change plans and invite her friends over instead. She had to cook, clean, and organize everything for the event.

  Her friends stayed at her place the entire afternoon. It was hard for her to celebrate at first, but later on, she loosened up a bit and was able to forget a little about Ben.

  Wine glasses were raised in a toast. Laughter rolled among the tree branches, and cheerfulness filled the garden. Shira had almost forgotten how much happiness and laughter the company of others brought her.

  The treatment took a great deal of sacrifice on her part. She didn’t realize it, but the recent events with Ben were emotionally draining and left her empty. It made her happier to take some time off.

  The studio quieted down after the last guest left. She started to clean up when she heard a vague sound emanating from the storage room. She walked to the room and saw the chest jerking every so often, and one of its corners was banging against the wall and making a noise. She looked at the monitor and his pulse seemed normal to her, so she decided to let it go and left the room.

  About an hour later, the banging got louder. She had almost finished cleaning and tidying up. She sat down in front of her computer, looking at the heart rate monitor again. His pulse was normal. There were four hours left, including the added time, before she could release him from the chest. The noises got louder, then weaker, then louder again toward evening.

  When time was up, she went over to the storage room. The chest continued to move slightly. She rolled it into the studio, then she lifted the tablecloth, opened the clasps of the head box, and lifted it. Ben was just as she had left him. He was sweaty and drained. It wasn’t clear whether he had slept or not. She slid open the lid and grabbed him to lift him out.

  He jerked wildly in her hands, his entire body leaping out as if he were escaping from the chest. He slipped from her hands and fell on the floor.

  Shira held her breath. The chest nearly turned over on his head. He rolled from side to side on the floor and began to weep. She quickly removed the hat, the headphones, and the earplugs, then finally the gag.

  He broke into uncontrollable crying.

  She sat down to embrace him. His sobbing got stronger. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t control his response.

  “Don’t put me back in there,” he wept, trying to regain control.

  “Shh.” Shira held him. “Shh… I won’t put you back in there… Don’t speak.”

  Again, the wailing burst out of his throat; his entire body weight was on her as she embraced him warmly and caringly. She caressed his sweaty head and back. “Shh… I’m here,” she kept telling him.

  He continued to cry quietly. He remained lying in her lap for a long time, then finally, he calmed down and fell asleep.

  As soon as she felt his slumber was deep enough, she gently pulled him back to the mattress, uncuffed his legs, and covered him with a blanket.

  DAY 30

  The following day, Ben woke up early in a fright. Only after realizing he was lying on the mattress in the studio again did he calm down. His entire body hurt due to tight muscles, and his mind replayed the dreadful twenty-four hours that had just passed. The experience he had undergone seemed like it took place in a different reality.

  He recalled how he broke down in front of Shira. How he bawled like a little kid. It was all her fault. He hated her for that.

  He was ashamed and disgusted by the thought that he, Ben Brattler, the most eligible bachelor, cried in such an embarrassing way, and that she witnessed it all. He huddled deeper into the mattress and didn’t want to get up.

  “Good morning,” Shira said softly after waking up.

  He remained huddled, still, with his face to the wall.

  “Ben, are you getting up?” She asked gently.

  He didn’t move. She put her hand on his back. He shook her hand off violently.

  “Would you like to freshen up? Eat something?”

  He didn’t respond.

  She walked away.

  A while later, she returned. “I made you a piece of bread with the jam you like. Here, take a bite.” She tried to turn him, but he pushed her hand away. “Come on, you must eat something… It’s for your own sake, if you want to stay strong.”

  He felt drained. Desperate. Defeated. He turned around, took one bite, and turned back, facing the wall.

  She sighed and got up.

  She tried several times throughout the day to coax him into getting up or eating. But aside from a few tiny bites, he didn’t eat and he stayed put.

  In the evening, Shira approached him again. “Come—a quick shower and you’ll be back to sleep.” She tried to convince him.

  Ben stood firm.

  “I’ll brush your teeth very carefully, just the way you like.” One could hear the grinding of his spine when he turned around and got up with apparent reluctance.

  She gently removed his catheter and IV. His body language continued to display his unwillingness throughout the bathing ritual.

  “Would you like to eat something?” she asked him when they were done.

  He shook his head with much emphasis.

  “Lay back down on the mattress?” she asked sadly.

  He nodded. He lay down on the mattress, filled with anger and nagging thoughts. The rusty wheels of his memory began to spin, taking him back to the past, to when he first arrived in Japan. He recalled the day he arrived at the small aikido school and observed a lesson.

  ❧

  It was a cold, rainy winter day. Ben was only sixteen, and for the first time in his life, he felt like something real was happening to him. He was mesmerized by the students’ movements and wanted to be like them—focused, calm, yet acting with that inner peace.

  To study martial arts at that school, he had to be approved by the teacher—the famous, dignified sensei. Everyone in the area wanted to study with him; he was a legend. However, he accepted only a few—he had only three students that year—and he was considered extremely tough. Ben didn’t care; he just wanted to study under his guidance. He went over to the sensei’s office, a small shack in the school’s spacious backyard. The rain was coming down in torrents. He jogg
ed across the muddy yard and quickly knocked on the door.

  The sensei opened the old wooden door and looked at the youth. He knew what he wanted—like those who came before him—to be accepted into his school.

  Ben wore a pair of torn jeans and a wet, muddy, white T-shirt. He wanted to enter the dry office, but the sensei stood close to the entrance and blocked his way.

  “Can I come in?” he asked, the rain pouring down on him while his eyes blinked and his hands tried to cover his head unsuccessfully.

  The sensei was in no rush to let him in. Ben was still standing outside, wondering why.

  “You want to study aikido with me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes. Let’s talk about it inside.” The teenager tried to rush the conversation and go indoors.

  He wasn’t familiar with the dress code in Japan, in which your attire indicates the respect you have for the person you’re meeting with.

  “Did you learn Japanese?” The sensei asked.

  “No, what’s that got to do with it? Let me in!” Ben demanded angrily; he was wet and felt the cold.

  “And why do you deserve to be accepted to the school?”

  “I can pay you as much as you like, but first move and let me in, or you won’t see a dammed penny.” The teen tried to find a way to bypass the teacher and get inside. This pathetic attempt to push the dignified man ended with a quick sendoff.

  “Sorry, you don’t belong here.” The sensei turned around and shut the door. Ben was left shocked and humiliated in the pouring rain.

  DAY 31

  The following day, Shira got Ben to sit down at the table for breakfast, but again, he hardly ate, and when they finished, she took him back to his spot. He lay down and snuggled up, keeping still until noon. The same happened at lunchtime and dinnertime.

  The memories flooded him again at night. He recalled his efforts to get accepted into the sensei’s curriculum.

  ❧