Chapter Nineteen

 After Madison had her afternoon snack, I told Jay there was something she wanted to ask him with a conspiratorial grin.  “A question, for me?” he said in easily assumed excitement.

 Madison looked at me for reassurance.  “It’s alright, sweetie.”

 “Can you really teach me karate, like Beth said?” she asked nervously.

 “Hmm.  That’s not just a question.  That’s an important question.”  He said it in a relaxed tone that put Madison at ease, and I gave her a told-you-so smile.  “I’m afraid my answer to that is another question.  Why do you want me to teach you?”

 Madison looked at me again, and I repeated his question for her.  She looked Jay in the eye and said, “Because I like you.”  Oh, how I envied her fearless honesty.

 Jay tried to hide the impact that had on him.  “Alright, but why karate?”

 “Beth told me you wanted to teach me,” Madison said, confusion creeping into her voice.

 “She told you?  When?”

 “When we said goodbye.”

 “Beth...” Jay said to himself, making me wonder at what he felt about that.  He shook his head to clear his thoughts.  “Well, she’s got my best interest at heart, I’ll give her that.”  He muttered under his breath, “Would have been more her business if we were dating.”

 I didn’t pretend to not hear him.  “She’s still a friend, Jay.  Doesn’t that count for anything?  You said yourself you were looking forward to it.”

 “That I did,” he said, admitting defeat.  “Alright, Madison.  I’ll teach you, and your mom, karate.”

 Her eyes lit up comically.  “Mommy too?”

 “It’s only fair, right?” I asked her.  “I like Jay, too,” I added lightly.  “When do we start, sensei?”

 “Oh, no.  None of that.  No uniforms or belts, either.  However, I must insist you change, Laura.  Have you got sweatpants and a t-shirt?”

 “What’s wrong with this?” I asked, indicating my blouse.  The skirt I could understand.

 “We’ll eventually be doing grab escapes and whatnot.  Clothing tends to get...  Moved.”  Reddening slightly he added, “And I’m easily distracted.”

 I laughed at the disguised compliment and went to change.

 Down in the basement, Jay taught us what he called front position.  “Feet together,” he said.  “We make a fist with our right hand.  That means fighting.  That hand, Madison.  Good.  The left hand is open, and it means peace.  Madison?  Which one of those two is better, peace or fighting?”

 “Peace?”

 “Splendid.  Right you are.  So, we put our left hand over the right.  To always remind ourself peace is better.  Now we give a short bow, to show respect.  We’re about to learn together, here.  It’s a very special relationship, when people train together.”  We bowed like he showed us.  “Okay, now we’re going to sit and talk.”

 We all sat, Madison and I folding our legs as Jay did.  I ran my fingers across the carpet.  It was pleasingly soft to the touch.  “Madison, how many fights do you think I’ve been in?”

 “I’m not sure,” she said thoughtfully.  “A hundred?”

 When he finished laughing, he said, “Try again.”

 “A million!” she said, starting to get silly.

 “Madison,” I said quietly.

 Jay shook his head slightly, telling me not to worry.  “Wrong way, kid.  Try none.”

 “Never?”

 “Have you ever been in a fight?” he countered.

 “No.”

 “I’m very glad to hear that.  Fighting is a terrible thing.  Has anyone in your class been in a fight?”  Madison nodded.  “Tell me about it.  What happened?”

 “John got a bloody nose.”

 “So someone hit John?  Who did that?”

 “Marissa.”

 “Did anything happen to Marissa?”

 “She had to go to the principal’s office.”

 “So someone got hurt, and someone got in trouble.  That’s no good, is it?”

 “No.”

 “Did they feel bad?”

 “Yes.”

 “Alright.  There you have it.  When people fight, some get hurt, some get in trouble, and everybody feels bad.  So it makes sense to never be in a fight if we can help it.  I want you and your mom to know, if I hear you got into a fight when you didn’t really need to, I won’t teach you anymore.”

 “When do you need to fight?” Madison asked.

 “Good question!  If you’re in real danger, then it’s okay to fight.  Do you know what I mean by real danger?”  Madison shook her head.  “If someone’s trying to steal a toy from you, is that real danger?”

 “No.”

 “How about if they’re picking on you?  Or picking on your friend, calling them names.  Is that danger?”

 “No.”

 “She’s good,” Jay said to me.  I couldn’t help smiling pridefully.  Madison was impressing me as well.  “Okay, I think we’re ready for the first lesson.”  I readied myself to stand, but Jay didn’t move.  “We’re going to sit here and think about flowers.”

 “Flowers?” I asked skeptically.

 “Flowers,” he repeated.  “Turns out, there’s a lot to learn from them.  They grow not to get things done, but simply because that’s what they do.  They don’t worry about what they’ve done or what they will do.  They don’t grow for the sake of showing off.  The sun shines on them all equally, without picking favorites.  That’s important to remember.  They’re easy to take apart, but impossible to put back together.  Madison, can you tell me how flowers are like people too?”

 “Um, they come in different colors.”

 “Very good!” Jay said in unfeigned delight.  “Laura?”

 I couldn’t think of anything offhand.  “This is learning karate?”

 “It’s learning, and right now your daughter is doing better than you.  Come on, think of something.”

 “They need roots to grow,” I threw out.

 “Interesting...” Jay said quietly.  “I’ve never thought of that one...  Well, this is a perfect time to learn to meditate.  Can you say that, Madison?”

 “Meditate?”

 “Perfect.  That’s when we just sit and think things out.  I’d like us all to sit and think of flowers.  Imagine yourself as a flower.  Pretend you can feel the sun on your petals.  Don’t worry about anything else.  Just think of yourself as a flower...”  Jay’s voice dropped to a low, hypnotic drone.  “Growing for the sake of growing.  Being attractive for the sake of being attractive...  There is nothing to worry about right now.  All the three of us need to do is sit and grow happily.  Nothing else is required of us, so think of nothing else...”

 I lost track of when he faded out as I grew relaxed.  For a time, I felt just what he said.  There is nothing else required of me right now, I realized.  It was quite liberating.

 I didn’t mask my disappointment when he announced with a calming sigh that the lesson was over for today.  “That’s it?  Not even a move?” I asked.

 “We learned how to bow.  That’s moving.”  He laughed at my exasperation.  “Fine, fine, fine.  I’ll show you the best fighting move ever.  Ready to see it, Madison?”

 “Mmm-hmm,” she said slowly, an effect of the meditation.

 “Okay, Laura.  Stand up.  Face me.”  I did.  “Hands up like this,” he showed me a guard position.  “Now act like you’re going to hit me.”

 “I’m gonna hit you,” I said with mock gruffness, making Madison laugh.

 “Best move ever,” Jay repeated to Madison, and sprinted across the basement with surprising speed.  Madison laughed harder, collapsing and holding her sides.

 “Alright, class,” he said when she could breathe again.  “Front position.”  We assumed position and bowed again.

----

 The next lesson was where we got started.  After a brief meditation and some stretching Jay taught us first some stronger ways to stand, saying a strike was useless without a good foundation.  He taught us a basic punch, a palm strike, and two ways to kick in front.  Then he taught us the first two of what he said would be eight blocks, and revealed the purpose of the foam bat.  He swung it at us in turn, so we could work on timing them correctly.  During one of Madison’s turns, he started swinging faster than she had any chance of blocking.  He backed my giggling daughter into a corner with a flurry of swings, laughing himself by the end.  It hit me again how much I enjoyed watching the two of them together.

 He concluded with a grab escape.  “If someone grabs your wrist, or even both, what do you do?  Can’t run away now,” he said, snaring one of my wrists in a firm grip.

 “Punch them?” Madison said.

 “Don’t know about that,” Jay said.  “Is Mommy in danger right now?  We could just be arguing.”

 “But she can’t run!”

 “Laura, do you want to hurt me, or just get away?” he asked me.

 Neither...  “Just get away,” I said to humor him.

 “Then let me ask this,” he said, turning to Madison again.  “Which is stronger? My thumb, or your mom’s entire arm?”

 “I don’t know, how strong is your thumb?” Madison asked.

 Jay snickered.  “Let’s say for the sake of argument, her arm is stronger.  Well, here, let’s trade.”  He released me, and I grabbed his wrist.  “Hold tight,” he said.  I squeezed.  “No, tighter.”

 “That’s tight!” I laughed.  “I’m a girl, remember?”

 “Like I’d forget,” he commented so only I heard.  “Alright, your mom’s holding tight.  Watch this.”  Slowly, he flexed his arm, and my wrist turned to an awkward angle before it was indeed a contest between thumb and arm.  I couldn’t hold on any longer, and with no speed or effort he freed himself.  “You have to do it fast for it to work,” he explained.  “But you can see that it does work.  Your turn.”  He grabbed my wrist again.  “Try it slow first.”

 I moved how he showed me, or thought I did.  He corrected me slightly, and I understood.  “You’re not holding tight, though,” I protested.

 “If I hold you as tight as I can, it will still work, but you’d have some bruises to explain at work.  That wouldn’t look good.”

 “Lemme try!” Madison said, jumping in place.

 We all took turns in a circle one way, then the other.  When he said we were done, I told Madison to go ahead upstairs.  “We’ll be up in a minute.  Get cleaned up for dinner, okay?”

 “What’s up?” Jay asked in a soft, interested voice when we were alone.

 “I want to try it.  For real.  Everyone at work knows you’re teaching me, they’ll understand.”

 He read something in my voice that told him I was serious for private reasons, and shrugged.  “Fine.”  Before I had time to react, his hand shot out and latched onto me like a vice.

 “Ow!” I said, trying to struggle away out of instinct.

 “This is what it’s like,” he said softly, assuring me his hand was the only part of him acting violently.  “Get out of it,” he snapped in a firmer tone.

 I struggled, and couldn’t.  My wrist was starting to hurt.  “You’re just pulling back.  Remember the motion, snap through it.  Turn your arm, go against my thumb.  With everything you’ve got.”  His voice was sharp, but in a way that inspired me.

 With a quick yell, I yanked in the right direction.  My arm flew free, sending us both slightly off balance.  I staggered backward, and would have hit the wall, but he stayed with me and caught me with an arm around the small of my back.  He stopped us by putting his other hand against the wall, and we stood together panting from exertion.  I looked down at my already purpling wrist.

 “Did I hurt you?” he asked with gentleness I had never heard in a male voice.  Not since Dad was alive, anyway...

 I stopped that train of thought dead in its tracks.  “It’s sore,” I admitted.  “But thanks.  I needed to know it works.”

 “I could tell,” he said.  “Here,” he said in a near whisper.  He took my hand gently, and ran his fingers softly over the bruising skin.  “Well, it’s not the kind of thing that can be massaged away.  You’re alright, though?”

 “Yes.”  Don’t stop doing that!

 “Good.”  He hesitated, and hugged me.  “Please don't ask me to do that again.  When I teach you a grab escape, or a take-down, or anything...  I won’t relent unless I feel you do just the right thing.  I will hold firmly enough for you to feel when you do the right thing.  That’s my promise, as a teacher.  This,” he indicated my wrist, “is not a good way to learn in the long run.  We’re not here to hurt each other.  Even just doing that made me feel awful.”  He held my shoulders at arm’s length.  “Do you forgive me?”

 “For what I myself just made you do?  Yes, I forgive you,” I said, smiling to try and comfort him.

 He looked into my eyes, searching.  “Those ‘random bar guys’...  One of them got rough with you.”

 I looked away.  “Yes...”

 “I’ll never get it...”  His eyes started to glisten with moisture, and he drew me into another embrace.  A softer one, that made me feel as if I was melting into him.  “How do guys do it?”  His hand came up and stroked my hair.  It felt better than I’d imagined it would, when Madison was laying in his lap the first night he came over.

 “You’re a different type of man than they are,” I said dreamily into his chest.  I lifted a hand and put it against his heart, feeling its beat.  “A good one.”

 His only answer was to hold me tighter for a moment before we went up for dinner.

Reviews

[Sarah]

Why wouldn't Laura change out of a blouse? Who does karate or any physical activity in a skirt and a blouse. That's just ridiculous. I think Jay should explain to Madison what real danger is. He explains what isn't real danger, but never gives her a clear sense of when it is okay to fight.

When Jay says hold tight, and Laura say I am, I'm a girl remember? Not sure how I feel about that. Seems kind of condescending towards female strength. Obviously women are naturally weaker, but that statement just seemed mocking of all women in general. There are some strong women out there, stronger than some of the boys ;)

Gosh they sure hug a lot. This sappy drama is almost too much, but I still need to know when the hell they're gonna hook up!