Body Shot (The Dojo)

by Patrick Jones

“I used to be,” Latasha said.

  “We used to be,” Meghan mumbled.

  “Meghan, what’s wrong?” Latasha asked. “You’re quiet one second, then jumping on chairs the next. When I see you at school, it looks like you just woke up. You okay?”

  “Kevin got me worked up, so I just needed a minute to relax, that’s all. I’ll be fine.” Meghan looked at the table to avoid Latasha’s gaze. “Latasha, don’t worry about me. I don’t.”

  Latasha sighed. “Maybe that’s why I think I should.”

  “I want to spar with Hector at the end of practice tonight,” Meghan said. It was an hour before the Monday-night teen class. Only she and Mr. Hodge were at the dojo.

  “Meghan, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mr. Hodge said.

  “You’re afraid I’ll get hurt?”

  Mr. Hodge put his hand on Meghan’s shoulder. “That’s part of it. It’s fine doing the drills with the boys, but sparring isn’t a good idea.”

  “But I’m not going to get better drilling and sparring with the same three or four girls,” Meghan pressed.

  “Maybe, but why not Nong or Shawn, someone closer to your own weight?”

  Meghan took her gloves and helmet from her backpack. “Because I can beat both of them, and trust me, you don’t want that. It would destroy Nong’s confidence.”

  Mr. Hodge laughed. “Nong’s got plenty of confidence.”

  Meghan shook her head, amazed that Mr. Hodge didn’t see through Nong like she did. “No, all that trash talk is just for show. He’s really not confident as a fighter.”

  “Well, he is better in drills than he is in sparring,” Mr. Hodge conceded. “Nobody, except maybe you, knows more about MMA than Nong. He’s got all the skills.”

  “It’s funny,” Meghan said. “Nong has the skills but not the confidence, so he often doesn’t win. Jackson lacks the skills, but he usually wins with power and confidence.”

  “This sport is all about balance,” Mr. Hodge said as he helped Meghan with her gloves.

  “That’s why Hector would be a good match,” Meghan said. “He’s the most balanced fighter in the dojo. If you want me to be a champion, I’ve got to face better competition.”

  Mr. Hodge paused and then furrowed his brow. “Okay, but you’ll start with Shawn, and only if he’s okay with it. We’ll do it tomorrow night so he has time to prepare.”

  “I thought he was taking time off to run cross-country,” Meghan asked.

  “You know, knowing you, I’m surprised you’re not more hooked into the gossip around this place.” Mr. Hodge laughed. Meghan said nothing as she put on her practice helmet.

  “I’m here to fight, not make friends.”

  “You seem to be doing a good job on both accounts.”

  Meghan sighed just before she launched a powerful left hook at Mr. Hodge.

  “Is that all you got?!” Mr. Hodge examined the blocker he held in front of him.

  Meghan threw an overhand left followed by a right jab and shouted, “I’m here to fight, not make friends!”

  “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Meghan asked Shawn as they did sit-ups together. “I mean, you won’t be upset or anything if I beat you.”

  Shawn laughed. “It’s good that you have dreams, Meghan.”

  “So why are you not running cross-country?” Meghan knew that Shawn loved MMA, but he also loved playing high school sports. Mr. Hodge let Shawn split his time since Shawn had joined before Mr. Hodge implemented his “no outside sports” rule.

  “The thing about cross-country is there’s not as much to learn,” Shawn explained. “Here, every practice is different because every fight is different. I guess that’s why I’ll fight you.”

  “Well, it won’t be different for me, because I’ll win,” Meghan said, smiling.

  Shawn laughed again. “Well, either way I lose, so I have no expectations. If I beat you, then I beat a girl, so big deal. If I don’t win, then what? But I don’t care. I just want to fight.”

  “Me too.”

  They were starting to breathe hard as they kept the same pace with each sit-up.

  “You’re so competitive,” Shawn said. “I can’t believe you don’t play a sport at school. I bet Mr. Hodge would let you. Everybody knows you’re his pet.”

  Meghan scoffed. “I don’t think so. More like—what’s the opposite of a teacher’s pet?”

  “OK, more like his protégée.” Shawn laughed. “Didn’t you ever do school sports?” he asked. Meghan didn’t answer as she increased the speed of her sit-ups.

  “I bet you did. You would’ve been a perfect forward in basketball: strong, tall, smart.”

  Meghan closed her eyes. There she was on the court, finding daylight and driving toward the basket. Tommy had thrown a perfect pass, while Latasha set the screen. Her mom was on the bench directing traffic, yelling, and leading the cheers.

  “Volleyball too. Am I right?”

  “Is this an interview?” Meghan said between breaths. The smack of someone’s fist on the punching bag sounded like the whack of the ball, and Meghan saw herself spiking it.

  “You know, you’re odd for a teenage girl. Not in a bad way, but just different.”

  If you only knew, Meghan thought.

  “I mean, at my school, every girl your age cares about guys, who’s hooking up—all of that.”

  “All of that’s a waste of time.” Her stomach burned as sweat drenched her scarred flesh.

  “Even how you bike everywhere,” Shawn continued. “Man, the second I turned sixteen, I got my license and drove whenever, wherever.”

  “Shawn, I guess I’ll have to punch you in the mouth tomorrow to shut you up.”

  Shawn laughed. “I’m just curious, that’s all. I’ve known you for almost two years, and I still don’t know anything about you. Are you in the Witness Protection Program or what?”

  “What.”

  Shawn laughed again and took a break as Meghan continued doing sit-ups like pistons firing in an engine.

  “Any questions?” Mr. Hodge asked the assembled students after explaining his decision to let Meghan begin sparring with the boys. As if on cue, Nong started trash-talking, while Hector said nothing. Meghan knew she’d never spar with Jackson since he was a heavyweight, but Hector was a middleweight.

  “Okay, let’s see how this goes,” Mr. Hodge said. “Meghan and Shawn, let’s go.”

  Mr. Matsuda stood next to Shawn and checked to make sure that all his protective gear was on tight. Mr. Hodge did the same for Meghan. Meghan heard Mr. Matsuda giving Shawn instructions, but Mr. Hodge said nothing. He just placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.

  “Three rounds, two minutes each. Let’s work hard!” Mr. Hodge blew the whistle and then moved toward the center of the ring to act as referee.

  Shawn and Meghan touched gloves and then assumed a fighting position. Shawn pushed the action as he circled around Meghan, but neither threw a solid strike or tried a takedown.

  “Let’s go, Meghan!” Meghan heard Mika yell.

  “Shawn! Shawn!” The boys started to chant.

  Shawn shot in, but Meghan sprawled and held onto Shawn’s neck, then moved into an underhook. She tried to throw him but couldn’t, even though as a flyweight, he weighed a few pounds less than she did. Shawn pushed out of the underhook and tried for a double leg, but Meghan stuffed him and countered with two kicks that glanced off Shawn’s elbow. Shawn fought back and threw the first solid punch, a straight right jab that bounced off Meghan’s helmet.

  Meghan danced around Shawn before throwing strikes: head hunter hooks followed by body shot kicks. Shawn deflected most of the strikes. As Meghan pressed the action, Shawn backed up until he was against the cage. Meghan clinched and wrapped her arms around the back of Shawn’s neck, but as she brought up a heavy knee, Shawn pushed back and took Meghan to the ground. On the ground, Meghan locked in closed guard. Shawn struggled to break the guard and get better position, but Meghan was in firm control even fro
m her back.

  With neither fighter gaining an advantage, Mr. Hodge stopped the action and stood them up. More circling followed tentative strikes from Meghan, while Shawn kept trying for a takedown.

  “Thirty seconds!” Mr. Matsuda shouted.

  Meghan faked a roundhouse kick to Shawn’s side, then caught him off guard with a right jab, an overhand left, and an uppercut. The whistle blew before Meghan could inflict more damage.

  When Mr. Hodge blew the whistle to start round two, Shawn came out swinging. Using his small reach advantage, Shawn punched, stepped back, and set up another strike. Meghan defended with front kicks, but they didn’t slow Shawn down. Then, when Shawn missed a left hook, Meghan locked him in the clinch and pulled his head down while lifting her knee up. The crack of her knee against his jaw was followed by the thud of Shawn’s back hitting the mat.

  On the mount, Meghan dropped hammer fists. Using a butterfly guard, Shawn hooked Meghan’s thighs with his ankles, underhooked her arm, pushed up, and elevated Meghan from her mount. As Meghan tried to balance with her right arm, Shawn snatched it between his legs and rolled through. Before Meghan could escape the arm bar, Mr. Hodge blew the whistle to end the fight.

  Shawn released the hold, stood, and helped Meghan to her feet. She managed not to wince as he pulled her up by her right arm. They took out their mouth guards. “Good fight,” Meghan said.

  “I got lucky,” Shawn said as they touched gloves.

  “No, you got skills, but I got something too.”

  “What’s that?”

  As she watched Shawn’s right hand being raised, she whispered, “Motivation.”

  In her usual Starbucks corner spot, Meghan scrolled through messages and posts in between sips of her Green Tea Frappuccino. She felt her arm starting to throb. Perhaps she could have worked her way out of the hold, perhaps not, but Mr. Hodge should have given her a chance. She worried that she wouldn’t get another shot against the boys. She knew she could beat Shawn if given one more opportunity. She’d just need to avoid a takedown, find a better balance.

  The green tea perked her up but seemed to make her arm hurt more. She called Tommy.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about that thing at school the other day.”

  “Me too,” Tommy said. “Maybe because it’s volleyball season, I’m thinking about—”

  “Don’t.” Meghan threw the word like a perfect kick.

  Tommy paused. “I wonder how things would be different for all of us,” she said.

  Meghan sensed the sadness in her voice and changed the subject. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Party,” Tommy said.

  “Something new and different for you,” Meghan quipped. She rubbed her sore right arm with her left hand. “Where?”

  Tommy laughed. “Meghan, don’t you know me? The party is wherever I am.”

  “So, maybe next week, you and I can go?” Meghan asked Nong. They were in the far corner of the dojo, doing sit-ups to warm up.

  “You don’t want any of the Ninja Warrior,” Nong said and laughed. “Besides, don’t you think you should beat Shawn first before talking trash about me?”

  “We’re going again tonight,” Meghan answered as she hit the fifty sit-up mark.

  “So what’s your plan?” Nong asked.

  “Why? Are you his spy?”

  Nong laughed. “I want you to win. I mean, I like Shawn and all, but you, me, Hector, and Jackson have been training together from the start. We’re like family.”

  “Family,” Meghan mumbled, embarrassed.

  “Something like that,” Nong said, also sounding embarrassed.

  “Well, then it’ll be such a shame to beat you up, big brother,” Meghan said.

  “No, I’m the little brother,” Nong said. “The Ninja Warrior is an underdog wonder.”

  Meghan just laughed. She thought Nong’s Ninja Warrior trash talk was funny, although Mr. Hodge didn’t like it. Meghan thought Nong would’ve figured that out by now.

  “You’ve fought Shawn. How do you beat him?” Meghan asked.

  As always, Nong kind of rambled, comparing his spars against Shawn with great MMA fights of the past, but ended with a big smile. “Shawn’s tough to beat, but he’s inexperienced. So when he makes a mistake, you take advantage, Ninja Warrior style.”

  After listening to Nong, Meghan found Hector and Jackson throwing strikes against the heavy bag. Jackson threw thunder, strong and loud; Hector threw lightning-fast punches. She asked them the same question.

  “Shawn is streaky,” Jackson said. “He’s hot or cold. He doesn’t have a balanced game.”

  “He’s on-again and off-again at the dojo, so he doesn’t have our mental toughness,” Hector said. “In the cage, he lays back until he gets a chance and then comes out swinging.”

  “Same thing on the ground,” Jackson said. They were still throwing punches as they spoke. Mr. Hodge never wanted to see anyone standing still. In the dojo, you moved—or moved out. “Once he gets somebody down, he’ll do nothing and then explode. You need to catch him between.”

  “When he’s vulnerable,” Hector said. “You get him when he thinks he’s in control.”

  “Thanks guys,” Meghan said. She wanted to touch gloves to show her respect, but ­Hector and Jackson never stopped drilling—Mr. Hodge would be proud. Meghan was ready to make him prouder. She’d fight a smarter fight so he wouldn’t need to protect her again.

  “Let’s do the same as last time,” Mr. Hodge said. “Three rounds of two minutes.”

  Shawn and Meghan touched gloves and returned to their corners. Before the whistle blew, Meghan noticed that Jackson, Nong, and Hector stood apart from the other students. They’d positioned themselves near Meghan’s corner. They cheered when she landed the first strike: a solid body shot kick to Shawn’s side.

  Just as before, Shawn alternated quick strikes with takedown attempts, and Meghan defended with sprawls, clinches, and kicks. After each of his failed attempts, Shawn retreated toward the ropes, which allowed Meghan to press the action. She continued with kicks, knees, and punches to the body. If she couldn’t knock him out, she’d knock the wind out of him.

  The round ended with neither fighter in control. Nong, Hector, and Jackson came up to the ring during the break. “I’d give that round to him, but keep up with those body shots,” Nong said. “It makes it harder for him to breathe.”

  Hector nodded. “He can’t explode if his tank is empty,” he added.

  Jackson clapped with the others as the whistle blew.

  Meghan started the round with another roundhouse to the body, but Shawn held onto her left leg. He tripped her to score the takedown. Meghan landed with good position, not allowing Shawn to mount. He struggled to maintain even side control, which allowed Meghan to sweep from underneath and regain her feet. As Shawn tried to stand, Meghan clinched his neck.

  “Guillotine!” Nong shouted, but Shawn was too strong, and Meghan couldn’t get her hands locked. Shawn got to his feet and waited for Meghan to bring the fight to him.

  “Let’s work hard, Shawn!” Mr. Hodge said. Shawn responded by rushing toward Meghan, but she was ready. She threw two hard left hooks to the body followed by a roundhouse kick to the ribs. Meghan could hear Shawn gasping for breath. She threw a lazy front kick, and Shawn took her down again with another single leg. But on the way down, she controlled his body.

  When Shawn tried a strike from the mount, Meghan grabbed his right wrist and pulled. She unlocked her feet and scooted out. Before Shawn could pass guard, Meghan sat up. She quickly wrapped her right arm around Shawn’s exposed right shoulder and locked it on her left wrist.

  With Shawn’s arm firmly in her control, Meghan rolled back, put her right foot on Shawn’s left hip, and threw her left leg high over his back to lock him in position, completing the Kimura. The submission hold put her in total control. Shawn tapped in an instant. Mr. Hodge blew the whistle, and Meghan heard applause surround her just like she used to hear on the hard
wood courts in practice. You’re not just an athlete, Meghan recalled her mom telling her over and over. You’re a champion. When Mr. Hodge raised her hand, she pointed one finger toward heaven.

  Meghan described every second of the fight to Latasha as they sat in her normal spot at Starbucks. With some pills and a Frap coursing through her, Meghan rambled until Latasha reached across the table and clasped Meghan’s shaking left hand. “What are you doing?” Meghan asked, shaking her hand free.

  “I can tell something’s going on,” Latasha whispered. “You were fine ten minutes ago. You’re totally wired now.”

  “Nothing’s going on. I’m just excited about getting a W.”

  “Look, I’ve played sports my entire life. I know a problem when I see it.”

  “What problem?” Meghan laughed, Latasha didn’t.

  “You’re a pill head,” Latasha whispered. “I know you’ll deny it, because that’s what addicts do.”

  Meghan wasn’t laughing anymore. “I’m not a pill head,” she whispered back. “I don’t have a problem, and it’s none of your business.”

  “We said we’d watch out for each other, so I’m keeping my part of that deal.”

  “I don’t need you to do that.” Meghan felt like hurling the cup against the wall. She stood up to leave, but Latasha grabbed her wrist.

  “Did you ever see a hamster in a cage?” Latasha said.

  Meghan didn’t answer. She used all of her energy to keep from exploding at Latasha.

  “That’s you. You’re like a hamster on one of those wheels. You keep running and running in place, but listen, Meghan, you’re getting nowhere.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Meghan hissed and started for the door.

  Latasha grabbed her arm. “You have to take a pill to go to sleep and then one to wake up. You take a pill to feel good, and when that wears off, you take another. You take one to stop the pain, but it just keeps coming back.”

  “MMA is a hard sport. I get hurt more in one day than you do in a season.”