When everyone was settled, he explained what the contest was all about. “At our dojo, we teach century-old techniques and moves. We also work to build character, increase confidence, and encourage students to respect themselves and others. This contest taps into all these things. After all, contestants are testing their karate knowledge by creating their own katas. They’re also displaying confidence and strength of character by entering the contest. Many of them talked over ideas with others, a sign that they trust that their concepts would be greeted with respect.”
He smiled then. “But most of all, we decided to run this contest because, well, we thought the kids would have fun making up their own katas! So, without further ado, let’s get to it!”
He consulted a clipboard. “First up is Melissa Darlington. Come on up, Melissa, and let’s see what you created.”
Melissa was a yellow belt. She hadn’t been training for long, so she didn’t have a wide range of moves. But she did a nice job with a series of upward blocks, straight-in punches, and a few kicks. The audience applauded her efforts appreciatively.
Next up was Dan, one of the students who had just tested that morning. He wore his new purple belt with pride. Unfortunately, he seemed to forget how his own kata went, for after six moves, he just stopped, bowed, and sat down with a sheepish look on his face.
“All right, Dan, no problem,” Sensei Joe reassured. “When we run the contest next time, you can show us the whole thing!”
A blue belt went next, and then an orange belt. Both had put together nice katas, Cole thought. But in his opinion, the winner hadn’t yet performed.
Then Sensei Joe called out the next name. “Monique Cleary, you’re up!” As she rose to her feet, however, he held up a hand. “But first, let’s take a short break. Five minutes, folks, and then we’ll be back!”
Cole and Marty exchanged looks. They got to their feet and, moving as stealthily as cats on the prowl, disappeared into the storage room.
“Did she see us?” Marty whispered.
“I don’t think so,” Cole replied. “Now we just have to wait for the right moment.”
27
Five minutes passed. Cole could tell when the audience had resumed their seats because everything got quiet. He waited a beat longer and then whispered, “Ready?”
Marty nodded, opened the storage room door, and tiptoed out with Cole at his heels.
Monique stood in ready position before the audience. Her eyes were focused forward. Her back was to the boys.
As quietly as they could, Cole and Marty moved to stand behind and on either side of her. Several of the people in the audience whispered and pointed at them. Cole lifted a finger to his lips to plead for their silence.
“Whenever you’re ready, Monique,” Sensei Joe encouraged.
She nodded once. Then she took a deep breath and bowed.
Behind her, Cole and Marty bowed, too. And when she began her kata, they did as well.
Upward block! Palm heel strike! She had no idea that they were behind her until — “Ki-ai!” — her own cry was joined by those of the boys!
She froze. For a split second, Cole thought she would stop altogether. But she didn’t. She turned into her next move, her fists one over the other, and then stepped forward for the low straight-in punch followed by the kick.
Marty and Cole did each move with her in perfect unison.
“He-ya!” the three shouted together.
Around they turned to the opposite direction, to do the cross shuto, the knee, and the double punch.
“Ki-ai!”
Then came the throw, a sweeping move that saw both arms circling up, over, and around, ending with the fingers pointing to the ground. The throw turned them to the back of the room. That’s where they directed their right straight-in punches and left snap kicks.
“He-ya!”
Back around they spun, three-quarters to the right, for another cross-shuto, this one with the opposite hand. Knee and punch came after and then —
“Ki-ai!”
— another three-quarter spin into an outward elbow jab found them facing the audience again. But only for a second, for with the next move, a left circular outward block, they shifted to the left. A spear and a punch — “Ki-ai!” — finished the kata.
As one, they turned to the front, crossed their fists in front of them, and bowed.
There was silence for a heartbeat. Then the audience exploded with applause and whistles. Sensei Joe stepped forward, clapping and smiling. “I think we have a winner,” he said, and the crowd roared with approval.
Monique hadn’t moved. Cole walked toward her, unsure if she was happy or furious. Then she turned and looked at him. Her blue eyes were shining and she was smiling from one ear to the other.
“You learned my kata!” she said. “I can’t believe it!”
Cole stabbed his toe at the wood floor. “I had to do something to make up for what I did,” he said. “I’m really, really sorry for taking it out of your bag.”
Monique’s smile faded. “It was a rotten thing to do,” she said.
“I know,” he admitted. “And I don’t mean to make excuses but… why didn’t you tell me and Marty that you had made up a kata? Why did you make it sound like you weren’t going to enter the contest?”
She turned away but not before he saw her blush. “I wasn’t sure if was going to enter, because I wasn’t sure if my kata was any good. That’s why I didn’t show it to you, either. I thought you might laugh or call it dumb or something.”
Cole was about to protest that he’d never do anything like that. Then he thought back to how he had often treated her and realized she had every reason to think that he might. He heaved a big sigh.
“I might be a green belt,” he said then, “but I think maybe I need to return to white belt level. Seems I’ve forgotten the part of my training that teaches me how to respect others and be a good person.”
Monique threw an arm around his shoulder. “Aw, don’t worry, we all make mistakes sometimes. And —”
She stopped talking suddenly. Cole looked up to see her staring through into the waiting room at a person standing there. It was Ty. He was staring right back at her. Both wore amazed expressions.
“I know him,” she said. “He’s the boy who tried to help me and my mother in the playground all those years ago!”
“You started taking private lessons right after that, didn’t you?” Cole asked.
“Yes!” she exclaimed in astonishment. “How did you —?”
Cole punched her lightly in the ribs. “Come on, let’s go see him. And I’ll tell you all about how I figured out one of the greatest mysteries of my life.”
“Which is?”
“Why you started taking private lessons — and why I didn’t do the same thing when you jumped ahead of me in rank!” He laughed out loud. “Just think! If I had, you and I would be even, and I wouldn’t have spent the last three-and-a-half years being jealous of you. Instead, we could have stayed friends.”
She returned his punch with one of her own. “Well, we’re friends again now.”
“That’s right,” Cole agreed just as Marty came up and looped his arms across their shoulders. “And that’s how I intend to keep it from now on!”
Matt Christopher®
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Karate Kick Page 7