The very first day Wolf met him, he had no idea where he was going, and only knew that his mother wanted him to meet someone. After a short walk from their house, they arrived at their destination and knocked on the door of a beige, single-story home. An older man, tall and slim with diamond blue eyes and greying blond hair, opened the door.
“Mr. Kelly?”
“Yes.”
“Hello,” Wolf’s mother said. “My name is Lizzie, and I was hoping that I could speak to you for just a few minutes?”
The man narrowed his eyes as he looked at the wafer-thin woman with mid-length, wavy black hair, and circles under her eyes standing before him. She wore black pants and a floral, long-sleeve top with a high collar, and just above the neckline of her shirt, he noticed delicate blackish-blue lines that indicated something, or someone, had recently gripped her neck too tightly.
“Are you selling something?”
“No, I’m just a neighbor and wanted to speak to you about my son,” she said.
“Alright, come in,” he said, motioning for both of them to enter.
“Wolf, you wait here. I want to talk to him alone,” his mum said, stepping inside the house, the screen door snapping closed behind her.
Inside, Mr. Kelly motioned for her to sit in a specific chair at his dining room table.
Wolf’s mum sat with her back to the front door and began talking. “Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Kelly. As I said, my name is Lizzie, and I’m here because I heard that you are a martial arts teacher. Sorry to have just shown up at your house, but I wasn’t sure how else to get in touch with you.”
The man sat quietly in the chair with his long legs crossed, both hands resting on his knees. “Continue,” he said.
“My son needs to learn how to protect himself and gain self-confidence, so I was hoping you’d consider being his teacher?” she said, twisting her hands below the surface of his sturdy wooden table.
“With all due respect…it’s Lizzie, right?”
His mother nodded.
“Lizzie, since moving back from Japan, I no longer teach. Karate is not just about self- defense, it’s a life choice, a way of being, and frankly, children in this country don’t have the patience to learn the old ways.”
“I see,” she sighed. “But, could you please just meet my son? Maybe after you’ve met him, you’ll consider a few lessons?” Her eyes were moist. “Please. His father is hard on him. My husband’s really not a bad man deep down, it’s just that he had a hard time growing up himself, and when he drinks too much, he loses control and…I’m sorry, I’m saying too much. I don’t need to bother you with these things. It’s just that I want Wolf to have the best chance at being a strong and confident man, and I thought maybe you could help.
“What does his father think?”
Wolf’s mother shifted her weight on the hard chair. “Oh goodness, he doesn’t know I’m here. George always has to be in control, and he wouldn’t agree to this. He can never find out.”
“I see,” he said, pondering her words. “Tell me again how you heard of me?”
“Well, when you moved here, a lot of the neighbors were curious about who you were, and why you had no wife or family, so they started talking and, you know, small towns,” she said shyly. “Then, I ran into a woman who lives just a few houses down from you. Maybe you know her; Judy O’Connell?” she asked.
“I’ve never met her personally, but I know she was a long-time friend of my father.”
“Yes, that’s right. She told me that they had kept in touch after he moved to Japan. She said that they had exchanged letters and that your father had written that you’d become a great teacher of martial arts.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, when she told me this, I felt that maybe you could help my son. Can I bring him in? Will you at least meet him?” she said, inhaling deeply and holding her breath for a few seconds longer than normal.
“Give me a minute to think,” he stated, his brows furrowed.
He thought back to when Lizzie first entered his house and how he purposely positioned her with her back to the door so that he could see over her shoulder and watch Wolf on the porch. The whole time she asked for his help, he observed the boy pacing back and forth on the veranda, occasionally kicking small pebbles off the wooden deck with his long legs. As he looked at the boy, he knew he would accept him as his student. The only reason he made Lizzie plead her case was to ensure that she was fully committed to supporting her son on the path that he was about to undertake.
After a few minutes of silence, Mr. Kelly took a deep breath and said, “Alright, I will meet Wolf now and see if he can be, and wants to be, my student. If I choose to teach him, he must train with me daily, and you must not let him quit until he completes at least one year, no matter how much he complains. If this is agreeable, I will train him for free. Will this work for you?”
“Yes, certainly, but I have to pay you. Just tell me how much it will be.”
“No payment,” the teacher said sternly, holding his index finger straight up in front of his chest.
“Fine. That is more than we could ever ask for, and very generous. Thank you.”
The two adults stood up and stepped out onto the porch. Wolf turned and looked at them and noticed each had a light-yellow mist hugging their bodies, and the man’s aura also had gentle, oscillating waves of purple.
Only Polly knew that Wolf could see auras, and she could see them, too. She had told him that most people in the physical world lost their ability to see them as they grew older, and he remembered when he was very little asking Orville if he could see colours, but his brother told him to shut up and stop saying stupid things, so he never asked anyone again.
“Are you ready?” Mr. Kelly asked Wolf from the doorway, the top of his head almost touching the frame.
“Um, I-I-I guess. For what?” Wolf replied.
“I am Master Kelly,” he said, “and I am going to teach you karate. Would you like to learn?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you know that was why you were here?”
“No, sir. My mum never tol-tol-told me wh-why we were com-ing here.”
“Well, now you know. Do you know what karate is?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Do you want me to teach it to you?”
“Yes,” Wolf said, straightening his spine and standing taller.
“And, why do you want me to teach you karate?”
“There’s um, this samurai, Junsaku, and I wa-wa-was him before. Like, me and him are the same guy. I want to b-b-be like him now,” Wolf answered.
Master Kelly nodded his head in understanding.
“Sorry about that,” his mother apologised, shrugging her shoulders and inhaling deeply. “He has quite an imagination.”
“No need to be sorry. I am certain your son is telling the truth. Now, goodbye, Lizzie. Nice meeting you. Wolf, we will start your training now. Follow me,” he said, exiting the porch and turning the corner towards the back of the house.
“Go, son! You mustn’t keep him waiting. And, this is our secret,” Wolf’s mum said, pushing strands of curly black hair away from his face and tucking them behind his ear. “Your father doesn’t need to know I brought you here, and he wouldn’t understand, so let’s keep this between you, me and Mr. Kelly, okay? You have to promise!”
“Geez, Mum, okay, I promise. Bye,” he replied, leaving the porch and walking briskly towards the rear of the house.
“Bye, son. And be careful walking home. Stay on the sidewalk.”
“Ah huh,” he muttered, continuing to move further away from her.
When Wolf reached the backyard, he stopped in his tracks, his mouth slightly open. The yard looked like the Japanese gardens he had seen in the encyclopedia and the places he had visited in Japan when he left the box. There were massive stones and boulders, wood-plank pathways, several short trees with green, leafy tops fanning out, and a lily pond filled with plump,
orange fish. In the center of the yard was a cherry blossom tree in between blooms, its vibrant pink and white flowers cocooned inside small buds, and below the tree were many strange objects placed on the raked dirt: Wheel-shaped concrete rocks with sticks poking upright from their centers; three, pinewood timber posts of different heights standing upright and perpendicular like obedient soldiers, and a variety of different sized ceramic jars.
Master Kelly noticed Wolf looking at the objects. “Those will be used for your hojo undo training. They will help strengthen your body and develop your iron shirt,” he said.
Though Wolf had no idea what he meant, Master Kelly knew exactly how Wolf would use these training tools in the future. He envisioned Wolf hitting, punching, and kicking the wooden poles until his flesh hardened and his body toughened. He could see him strengthening every part of his hands and body by gripping the mouths of the different jars with outstretched fingers until he could barely hang on anymore, eventually becoming so strong that he could hold the jars for hours, even weighted with water or sand. He knew that Wolf’s training would cause him great discomfort and even pain until over time his mind and body would develop the strength to move beyond it.
Master Kelly motioned for Wolf to follow him to a structure at the back of the yard. The building had thick, dark timber beams, alabaster-coloured walls, and glassless windows that could seal from the inside with wooden shutters. On the roof were rich blue tiles that cascaded down and curved as they flowed, the eaves extending past the walls, and the sliding doors were made of milky white paper stuck to waffle-pattern, wood frames. Wolf knew that this building was the dojo.
“Remove your shoes,” Master Kelly said.
Wolf followed his teacher’s instructions and took off his heavily soiled, canvas runners, placing them near the entrance.
“Before we step inside, we bow to the dojo, or shomen ni rei,” Master Kelly said.
Wolf watched as his teacher put his hands at his side and bowed from the waist, and then stepped inside the dojo with Wolf following. Inside, golden bamboo tatami mats covered the floor and there was no art on the walls except for one framed black and white photograph of a Japanese man.
“Thi-thi-thi-this is your dojo?” Wolf asked, looking around the square room.
“Yes. It is here that we will train, and you will also learn Bushido.”
“The code of honour,” Wolf said.
“How did you know that?”
“I don’t know, I just do. I know that it means words like courage, and honesty and, and…um, I forget the rest,” he finished, wrinkling his nose.
Master Kelly stood silently in front of Wolf with his hands at his sides. Then, he bent at the waist, his spine and neck stiff, and bowed towards Wolf before standing straight. Wolf tried to copy his teacher by putting his arms at his sides and bending at the waist, but his body leaned slightly off-center and he knew he wasn’t doing it correctly.
Master Kelly smiled and walked to the picture on the wall. “This is our grand master, or Soke, in Japanese. His name is Gotou Yoshikatsu. He is the founder of the style of karate I will teach you, called Makoto Ryu Kempo Jutsu, and we will show him respect by always bowing to him when we train in this dojo.”
Wolf rolled back his shoulders as he stared at the black and white image of a somber old man with a long beard and shining eyes, the outer edges of his dark pupils encircled by light. Then Wolf looked up at his teacher who towered above him at six-foot-four, and Master Kelly stared at him intensely, not blinking, and Wolf thought they must be playing the staring game which he liked to play with his dog, Carla. As he gazed into his teacher’s glacier-blue eyes, forcing himself not to blink, his eyes began to burn and he wished Master Kelly would be as easily distracted as his dog. Wolf was relieved when his teacher finally looked away.
“You have succeeded in your first lesson, Kohai. Your second lesson will be to learn a proper bow,” Master Kelly said, “but not today. Today you have a task.”
Wolf had no idea what lesson he had learned yet felt proud that he had passed.
Master Kelly went to the corner of the dojo and handed Wolf a broom, a bucket full of water, and two navy blue towels. Wolf stood holding the items in his hands, grinning with anticipation as he waited for instructions.
“First, sweep the dojo. Afterwards, wet one towel with water and clean the floor, then use the other towel to dry it. Then, go outside, remove the objects from underneath the cherry blossom tree, and rake the dirt using the rake near the tree, putting everything back exactly where you found it.”
“Okay,” Wolf replied.
“Kohai, these are places where we will train, so we must show respect. Now start, and I’ll be back to check on you.”
“Um, o-o-okay, sir.”
“Sensei. I am Sensei to you, Kohai.” Master Kelly said.
“Sensei, before you go. Wh-wh-why are you calling me Kohai, and not Wolf?”
“You are Kohai because you started your training after me, so you are junior to me, or Kohai. I started before you, so I am senior to you, or Sensei. And, Kohai; trust me. If you will allow me, I will make you strong and guide you on your path.”
“Yes, sir. I mean Sensei!” Wolf blurted out as Master Kelly turned and left the dojo, disappearing into his house.
Over an hour later, Wolf completed his assignment. The tatami mat floor was free of dirt and debris, and he had raked under the cherry blossom tree, removing dead leaves and flowers and disposing them in the bins at the side of the house. And, after he raked under the tree, Polly came and helped him put the strange objects back exactly where they were before.
While Wolf and Polly waited for his teacher to return, they went over to what looked like a rectangular sandbox. They found a short broom on the perimeter, and Wolf picked it up and used it like an enormous paintbrush, dragging it across the sand and making crisscross patterns and swirls on the surface. After thirty minutes, he and Polly got bored so they went inside the dojo and sat on the floor with their chins resting in their hands, waiting for Master Kelly to return.
When Master Kelly came back, he stood in the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, surveying the room and the yard. Then, in a calm, gentle voice, he said, “Tomorrow you will find a weed in your yard. Pull the weed from the ground, and throw it in a bin. And, you need to pull a weed every day until I tell you to stop. Will you commit to this, Kohai?”
“Yes, ah, Sensei,” Wolf replied.
“And, you will train with me every day. No exceptions. Come any time of day, before or after school, and on weekends. We do not need a formal schedule,” he said. “Most of the time, I will be here, so when you arrive, knock on my backdoor. If I don’t answer, I will give you the combination to the lock on the dojo and you can go inside and practise on your own. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sensei.”
“And Wolf, you must practise. No exceptions,” he stated. “Tomorrow, we will begin our training and I will teach you how to bow to me as your teacher; sensei ni rei. But for now, run home, breathing deep into your stomach, and do not walk,” he finished.
“Yes, Sensei,” Wolf replied.
He smiled as he bolted towards the front of the house. Once on the sidewalk, Wolf ran as fast as he could, his face heating up as he tried to breathe into his stomach. As his legs drove him through the town and towards his house, he developed a small, sharp pain in his abdomen but kept running, feeling elated at the thought of his next day of training.
Chapter Eleven
Sunrise illuminated the curtains in Wolf’s room and woke him from his sleep, prompting him to begin his daily search for a weed. In his red pyjamas with tiny, white race cars, he left through the kitchen door and tiptoed barefoot across the damp grass, sweeping the surface of the ground with his torch. “Hey, Buford,” he said to the blue-tongue skink hiding under the leaves of a bush, “you should be out exploring right now, not hiding. You need to get some confidence.”
Buford’s blue-violet to
ngue shot out of his mouth and was quickly retracted as he turned his head away from Wolf.
“Whatever,” Wolf said. “You can be scared and hiding all the time if you want. It’s your life.”
Wolf finally chose a weed from his mum’s flower garden and tugged it from the ground, carrying it back inside and tossing it in the bin before returning to his bed to snuggle under his blankets and fall back asleep.
Over an hour later, he heard his mother shout, “Boys, time to get up for school.”
Both boys reluctantly crawled out of bed and dressed in their school uniforms, then went to the breakfast bar where their dad was already seated, drinking coffee.
“Good morning,” their father said, his thin, black hair combed over his balding head.
“Morning, Dad,” Orville replied, punching him lightly on the arm before sliding onto the stool next him.
Wolf felt relieved that his brother sat next to his dad. Wolf knew that his father had come home late, and Wolf could still smell the sour stench of alcohol on his breath. Luckily for Wolf, when his dad came home the night before, he had only looked at the boys in their beds before retiring to his room.
With Orville sitting between them at the breakfast bar, his father lowered The Daily Telegraph and said, “Wolf, you going to say good morning to your old man?”
“Go-good mo-mo-morning,” Wolf stuttered, his throat dry.
Polly floated next to Wolf and put her hand on his shoulder, staring at his father with frosty emerald eyes.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it,” his father stated, shifting in his seat.
Polly stretched her right arm across the counter and placed her fingertips on the edge of his dad’s coffee cup. She tried to tip the coffee into his lap, but couldn’t generate enough energy to make his coffee spill, causing only a small ripple on the surface of the liquid. Angry that she couldn’t tip his coffee, she made a fist, frowning as she stared intensely at Wolf’s father.
She Named Me Wolf Page 3