by Emily Ford
CHAPTER FIVE: KRAV MAGA
“I can do this,” Rose says under her breath. She pauses before entering the Krav Maga self-defense school. She doesn’t like the idea of having to learn how to fight, but the discussions with both Dr. Vance and Detective Jenkins made her realize that maybe it was a good idea. It might help her feel less afraid, at the very least. She takes a deep breath and, with shaky hands, she pushes open the glass door and enters the school.
Inside the door is a small sitting room with two short rows of folding chairs. A young man in a suit sits in the first seat, lost in his iPhone. The seats have a clear view of the first training room by way of a large window in the wall that allows visitors to watch the class. It’s a self-defense class for kids. Rose stands while she watches the children bounce around the room, all wearing white martial arts gis with variety of different colored belts. A man in his late fifties leads the class, his own gi black with a black belt. His face is kind and he seems to be doing more smiling and laughing than teaching as the kids try adorably to execute kicks and punches in their oversized sparring gear. Rose smiles and relaxes, even laughing at times. The lighthearted scene distracts her from her own anxiety.
“Are you here for the self-defense session?” The soft, deep voice nudges her from her trance. To her right approaches a tall, handsome man about her age with wavy light brown hair that just barely brushes the tops of his broad shoulders. His eyes are a warm shade of brown. Taken aback by his handsome features, she barely even notices the flesh-colored scarring that covers both of his cheeks and part of his chin.
“Uh… yes,” she stutters. She gazes down at his black gi and black belt.
He extends his hand to her. “Welcome. I’m Michael. I teach the private lessons.” He nods towards the training room.
“I’m Rose.” It’s difficult for her to look away from his warm gaze, and she drops her eyes out of habit. Her husband would become instantly jealous and possessive if he felt she was looking at any other man too long. She wasn’t allowed to look let alone talk to them. Her insides instinctively tighten in apprehension of setting off her husband’s volatile temper, despite the fact he’s nowhere in sight.
“Hi, Rose. Come with me. We’ll get started.” Michael leads her down the hallway and into the adjoining classroom. He bows before entering. “When you enter the classroom here, we bow to the flag,” he instructs, pointing at the American flag on the far wall above the large mirrored wall.
“Oh, okay,” she says quietly. She bows and enters the classroom. The far wall in front of them is covered with mirrors, and sparring gear and extra mats line the sides of the classroom. A free standing heavy punching bag shaped like a human torso with a head sits in one corner. This is a real life training room, she thinks to herself.
“Take your shoes and socks off, and set them along the wall. We train barefoot here.”
Rose complies and removes her black and pink Nike shoes and black socks and sets them against the wall closest to the doorway. She’s aware that the instructor is watching her, which causes her shy nature to flare and exacerbates her anxiety. She silently reminds herself to breathe while simultaneously doubting that she should even be here. Wrestling with her inner conflict, she walks in bare feet onto the cushy mat and meets Michael in the middle of the room, stopping a few feet away from him.
“The most important thing to remember is, if you can run away from trouble, then run. But if you can’t, then you need to be prepared to do anything to save your own life. Even if that means seriously injuring someone else. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she says timidly.
“Any man is going to be stronger than you. It doesn’t matter how big or small he is, men are stronger than women. It’s just how we’re made. So my job is to teach you how to defend yourself in ways that don’t rely on you overpowering a man. Instead, I’m going to show you how to hurt or disable the attacker, long enough for you to get away or to keep hurting him until you have a window to get away.”
“That sounds good to me,” Rose says.
Michael steps closer to her. His proximity makes her nervous. At first, it reminds her of how her husband used to intimidate her by getting close to her face to whisper his threats. Instinctively, she steps backwards.
“Don’t do that,” he corrects.
“Sorry,” she says automatically. She looks at him with wide eyes. She again silently scolds herself that she’s way out of her league coming to a place like this. She doesn’t belong here! She doesn’t have what it takes to do this.
“Don’t be sorry, just don’t step backwards.” He steps close to her again and grabs her throat, gently. “If a man comes up to you and does this, he means to choke you. What do you think you should do?”
Rose’s mind goes blank. Her senses are on overload. A handsome stranger has his hands around her neck, and she can’t tell if she’s enjoying the attention, or if she’s scared to death thinking about how it could be her husband trying to strangle her.
“He means to strangle you, Rose. He wants to hurt you.”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles. She has already broken into a nervous sweat and feels her body growing hot.
“Are you okay?” Michael asks, softening his grip. “You’re sweating… are you nervous?”
“Yes… I mean, I don’t know.” she stammers.
He studies her conflicted expression for a moment and then smiles. “It’s okay, Rose. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She meets his warm brown eyes and sees that he is being genuine. He is not threatening. He is safe. “I know,” she relents, with a small sigh.
“This is a safe place, where you will learn how to protect yourself. No need to be nervous. I’m only here to help you.”
Rose is silent and a little overwhelmed by his kindness. Michael’s words and mannerisms are disciplined and firm, but he’s gentle and reassuring, as if he truly means to help her. To have a man tell her that not only is she safe, but that he means to help her, is the stark opposite of every intention of her domineering, bully of a husband.
“Okay, you strangle me,” he says. He grabs her hands and brings them up to his neck. He is a foot taller than her and she stretches to reach his neck to mock strangle him. He brings up his hands. “Squeeze your fingers together, like this,” he demonstrates. “Now, in a quick, fluid motion, aim for your own collarbone and swipe at the hands at your neck.” He demonstrates the move and easily flicks her hands away from his neck. “Do it again, only this time try to hold onto my neck. Try to strangle me.” She performs the movement and is surprised when he easily swipes her hands away, breaking her hold on him. “Okay, now you try.”
He puts his hands around her neck. She executes the move. They practice the move several times, until she starts to forget about her life drama and the anxiety she experiences about taking the self-defense class. Michael is not only a great teacher, but she can see that he is a kind person. His strength is evident but he uses great restraint when he touches her. She wonders if he is a true gentleman outside of teaching.
“Next step. Look down at your legs. Now look at mine. Look how close we are, close enough for you to kick me square between the legs, right?” he asks.
She looks down, past the two veiny, muscular forearms mock strangling her, to their feet. “Oh… yes!”
“Now when you kick, use your shin. It has more surface area and it’s much harder than just using the top of your foot. You’ll do more damage with it.”
She slowly simulates a kick, then looks up at him. He smiles.
“Good! Now in a real situation, kick him hard. And repeatedly if you have to. Enough to inflict so much pain that he forgets what he was doing. Then, you run.”
The lesson continues until Rose begins to feel comfortable with her new instructor. The moves he shows her already make her more confident. At the end of the hour, Rose is completely relaxed.
“You did well today,” Michael says.
Rose smiles. “Thank you.”
“Now, I’m going to ask you an uncomfortable question.”
“Um, okay?” Rose’s stomach tightens, anticipating that something horrible will come out of his mouth. Horrible words so frequently came out of her husband’s mouth, it’s the only thing she expects out of men now.
“I ask this of all my female students. Is there something going on that has brought you here? Are you having a problem with someone?”
She relaxes. Thank goodness he’s not barking a harmful criticism or threat at her. Thank goodness he’s not berating her or putting her down. He’s nothing like the monster she’s used to living with.
“Well, I’m here because…” she pauses and looks into his warm eyes. He appears to genuinely care and awaits her response. But her confidence wanes and she looks away. She can’t let anyone in yet. It feels too dangerous. “No. I just want to learn self-defense,” she mumbles.
Michael nods and drops his gaze. “Come back the day after tomorrow. Same time,” he says.
“Thank you,” she says, feeling sad to leave. She retrieves her shoes and sits on the matted floor to put them back on.
As she stands up to leave the room, she is taken aback by the handsome, smiling face of another young man as he bows and enters the training room. When he sees her, he first looks to Michael and nods, then comes directly to her and shakes her hand.
“Hi there! I’m Johnny,” he says, his dark blue eyes sparkling. Almost as tall as Michael, he’s built stockier and seems to be more open and outgoing in comparison. His dark hair is cut short in military style, and he’s wearing a dark blue gi with a black belt. His smile is broad and bright. “I teach the Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes here, but I’m sure Michael has already told you all about me!” He laughs at his own joke.
“Hi,” Rose says smiling.
“This is Rose White,” Michael says for her. “She’s new.”
“Well, Miss Rose White, it’s great to have you here!”
“Thank you,” she says, blushing.
“Johnny is a police officer, Rose,” Michael says.
“Oh, wow, that’s great!” she says. A feeling of guilt suddenly sneaks up on her. It is a heavy, true guilt, as if she deserves to be arrested for the way she planned and executed her escape from her husband. Three months of planning, she thinks to herself, to be exact.
Johnny nods at Michael’s comment. “It doesn’t hurt to have a guy like me around.”
“Well, nice to meet you,” she says to Johnny. “And, thank you, I’ll see you the day after tomorrow,” she says to Michael and gives him a small wave.
“Goodbye, Rose,” Johnny says.
She walks into the parking lot, automatically checking her surroundings for any sign of her husband or someone he’s hired to get her, before she leaves the safety of the building towards her car.