Part I: PartingChapter 1: ThursdayChapter 2: Intermission Chapter 3: Responsibility Part II: Conditional LoveChapter 4: SalvageChapter 5: Compomise Chapter 6: Appearances Chapter 7: Steadfast Chapter 8: Scorecard Chapter 9: Middle Chapter 10: Haunting Part III: The ReckoningChapter 11: DeparturesChapter 12: Endurance Chapter 13: Letters Chapter 14: Contrition Chapter 15: Waning Chapter 16: Intervening Chapter 17: Detour Chapter 18: Reunion Chapter 19: Exclusive Chapter 20: Gifts Chapter 21: Pennance Part IV: The Third EventChapter 22: ConfidenceChapter 23: Priorities Chapter 24: Dichotomies Chapter 25: Questions Chapter 26: Inattentiveness Chapter 27: Impetuous Chapter 28: Caged Chapter 29: Secrets Chapter 30: Family Chapter 31: Unfulfilled Chapter 32: Drowning Chapter 33: Persistence Chapter 34: Falling Chapter 35: Promises |
Chapter 12: EnduranceJessie was in her room folding her jeans, her eye on her battered watch waiting for seven to roll around. The upcoming class was going to be her last class before the invitational tournament tonight and she needed all the practice she could get.Dr. Boston knocked on the door and looked in seeing Jessie in such a mundane activity surprised her. “Have you finished your homework?” Dr. Boston asked out of parental habit. “Until next week sometime. You can sit, I’m almost done.” Jessie waved Dr. Boston to the bed. Dr. Boston nodded trying to figure out when Jessie had washed her own laundry. “I’m curious, you don’t have to answer, how did you and the Caudills find common ground to let you sign up for advanced classes at the,” she paused and looked at the information Nancy had given her, “Dragon Lords?” “I argued self-defense. Mrs. Caudill thought it might be wise, she doesn’t know anything that goes on.” “You really enjoy it?””What goes on?” Dr. Boston tipped her head. “It is mostly for people who like contact fights and sparring contests.” Jessie waited for the verdict of ‘Isn’t that dangerous?’ to be handed down. When it didn’t, she continued. “I’ve been offered sponsorship to go junior professional several times in the last two years. It’s not about the money, it’s the one thing I can do that no one can take from me.” Dr. Boston heard the fear in Jessica’s voice, and she could only web out ideas about why Jessica wanted such an active sport. “Well, come on, I don’t want you to be late.” Dr. Boston stood up and walked to the door. “Thank you for taking me Dr. Boston, I appreciate it.” Jessica picked up the smaller of her two bags. Dr. Boston glanced over the canvas bag covered in a variety of worn patches all sewn on with progressing skill. The bag alone had professed Jessica’s talent. Dr. Boston drove Jessica to the address she had. Jessica got out and Dr. Boston followed after parking the car. She followed her in, Jessie was surprised, and the Caudills drove off as fast as they could. Dr. Boston took a seat in the single row of chairs along the far back wall facing the mirrored walls. Multiple flags adorned the ceiling all from different Asian countries. Pictures of previous classes and the instructors were on the wall facing the class above the mirrors. She glanced over at a literature rack and picked up a photocopied pamphlet entitled ’Benefits of Martial Arts’ on purple paper. Though she barely glanced at the publication, she tucked it into her purse for reading later. The class was getting ready, and Jessica went into the back and came out wearing what looked like a black robe tied with a green belt. All the others wore white robes; they had different colored belts. Jessica was the only one that wore a green belt. The students all stretched independently. Some chatted softly to each other, no voice carried above a whisper. No one came up to Jessica to join her or speak to her, though a group of boys all glared at Jessica as she stretched. A man dressed the same way as the rest in the class came in and they all bowed together. He looked over the class and lead them in brief exercises in kicking and punching. “We'll start with round fights, two minutes long. Jessie, Donnie. Let's go.” He passed out some flags and the students sat around a red circle on the padded floor. Donnie, one of the boys that had glared at Jessica stood up from his crouched position and then approached Jessica. With ease, Jessie had stopped Donnie twice within seconds. She flipped him over her shoulder and let him land on the mat. He landed on his arm. Jessie didn't need to look to see what had happened. “Finish the match.” Ordered the teacher as Jessie leaned over and helped Donnie up. “It doesn't look bad, a sprain, just wrap it, ice it when you get home.” Said Jessie. “What are you doing? Finish the fight, get the point.” The man had grabbed Jessie by the shoulder. “You'll do what I tell you. You aren't a winner without me.” Jessie pulled away. She was afraid, but wasn’t in any immediate danger. “That’s not true, and wining not a doctrine of this dojo.” Jessica’s voice was even, though not as accomplished as her teacher, she knew something that not even Dr. Boston understood. Jessica paused for a moment as if contemplating her next words. “Your name is off the roster for next week. Until you learn to listen, you won’t be on the roster.” He crossed his arms and dismissed the hurt boy to the red line. He expected Jessica to comply as well, but she didn’t. Jessie was trying to control her anger. Her new sensei had gotten the best of her. There was no hope now of dealing with this sensibly. If her initial instincts were to fight or continue arguing, they left her with one last option. “Then the National fight will have to wait one more year. I won't fight for you.” Decidedly, Jessie walked off the mat into the locker room, picked up her bag and left. Dr. Boston waited for Jessie at the edge of the mat. She didn't have to look at Jessica to know how tough it was for her to give up this year. The sensei ran out after them. Dr. Boston attempted to put a hand on Jessica’s shoulder to reassure her, Jessica ducked it. “I'll make sure you never fight in this area again!” He yelled out after them. “Don't worry Jessica, I'm sure there will be other places.” “I hope so. ” “I’m sure if the Caudills were here, they’d be proud of the way you conducted yourself in there tonight.” “They’d be proud all right, proud not to have to pay for my class anymore.” She muttered. “Is there any other way you could go this weekend to the tournament?” “It’s a state tournament. The match is by person, not by dojo. I can register still as an individual, but I won’t get the same credits as if I were in a dojo. But, if I can win there, I most likely find a sponsor for the Nationals.” “Well, then I think you should register as an individual.” Encouraged Dr. Boston. Jessie looked over at Dr. Boston as she drove. She hadn’t been supported in her pursuits in so long she almost had forgotten what it felt like. “It’s this Friday, right?” Jessie nodded dumbfounded. “I’m sure Christine wouldn’t mind missing a day of classes, you two can go off and spend the day out at the tournament and then come home.” Jessie was ready that Friday, the twins had been dropped off at school and Christine and Jessie were going to the match. The twins had reluctantly trudged off to their classes after a fury of “Tell me everything when you get home!” and “I wish I could go.” Dr. Boston dropped Jessica and Christine off at the bus station. They bought two tickets, at Dr. Boston's insistence that she pay for them. She slipped Christine some money and watched them board. They would be back in time for a late dinner. Jessica had the entry fee covered as well as a ticket for Christine to be in the stands. “Good luck Jessica. You two be careful.” Dr. Boston hugged them and watched the bus pull out of the station before going to work late. “How did you get started in martial arts?” asked Christine as she flipped through the magazine she bought for the trip as the bus lurched to their destination. Jessie just shrugged. “One of my foster parents were into sports, the sport they were interested in at the time was karate. I was too little for karate so they put me in an introduction class. I guess they never imagined it would take.” “How long have you been competing?” “Only three years. It’s a rush.” Jessie shrugged. “But you’re serious about it. You follow the tournaments around like it’s all that exists.” Christine “Not all of them, but I am serious about tournaments. I don’t think there’s much in my life that I can be serious about.” “You’re remarkable you know that.” “What do you mean?” “It can’t be easy moving around and waiting to figure out everything that you want to do, and then convincing a new set of people every time that what you’re doing is safe and that you love to do it.” “There are a lot of other choices that could have been made for me, being independent and motivated, even if it is a straight path that ignores the world around me, has saved my skin. By all measures, I didn’t have to be here with you. I could have crumbled years ago and ended up a statistic. There’s a rhyme and reason to the doors that have been opened and closed to me. Maybe one day I’ll understand it all, but for now, I love what little I can do.” “One day Jessie, people will either say you were a wise soul or you were great and coming up with lines that people didn’t have to philosophize about because they were cyclical in reasoning.” Jessie grinned. “If that’s my legacy to the world, I’d certainly take it.” “What about the other homes were they anything like the Caudills?” asked Christine curiously trying to fill their trip with idle conversation. “No, the Caudills are definitely one-of-a-kind type of people. I’ve lived with a pacifist, a closet transsexual, a Christian Evangelist, and a couple dozen-group homes. The Evangelist one was great. He kept telling me that if I ‘didn’t refuse the devil,’ my parents would never return.” “How old were you?” Christine asked a little shocked. “It was the first home I went to.” Jessie recalled with a little smirk. “I ended up getting so frightened at one point, I accidentally set a kitchen fire. Got me out of there thankfully though.” Seeing Christine’s horrified and surprised look, Jessica reassured her friend. “Don’t worry it was a one time experiment. I am not a pyro.” They were dropped off at the bus station and it was a short walk to the halls where the tournament was being held. Upon arrival, Christine marveled at the number of people milling around. She had never seen so many people come for a tournament. All age levels and different abilities were represented. Very few were Jessie's age, most of them were older. The gym was normally reserved for the community college, but today it was exempt. The main gym was filled with eight rings side by side, with a block of bleachers along the far side. It was decorated brightly for the pending event. Event staff were placing over seventy-five flags along the perimeter of the mats. “Do you think you have a chance?” whispered Christine as Jessie filled the necessary forms to change her affiliations. “I've been to this tournament before, I'm favored through the entire tournament.” She smiled. Jessie picked up her information and then ducked into the bathrooms to change. When she emerged, she walked with Christine explaining as much as Christine wanted. “Why are you wearing a black uniform? Everyone else seems to be wearing white.” “My gi? Yeah I guess it’s a little unorthodox. It depends on what style you’ve studied. I’m mostly good for karate. In a few of these competitions, I’ve participated in what’s called a kata. Basically it’s an imaginary fight. Wearing gis of alternative colors is a performance aspect. But you better know what the heck you’re doing, the non-traditional color calls attention to yourself.” Jessie explained. “How close are you to your black belt?” “I can’t get it until I stay in one dojo long enough to take the test, and I’ve not been anywhere long enough lately.” “So just one test?” Christine asked. “No two more belts which means at least three more tests.” She assured her friend. The fights started almost as they got there. Jessie progressed easily through the rounds. She was quick where they were slow, cunning where they were clever. Christine watched on as Jessie took contender after contender. Her kicks were accurate and punches followed through with a grace Christine had only seen in ballet. When Jessie wasn't fighting, she competed in another event, showing her understanding in martial arts. She never thought the final round would come. Jessie was exhausted by this time. It was late and she had barely taken any time to relax. She looked winded going into this final round. Jessie looked up at the scoreboard. She smiled. No one from her former dojo had made the semifinal round of this tournament. Her sensei paced the edge of the mat, wishing Jessie had not been so stubborn. It could have been priceless advertising for him. Jessie ran her hand through her hair and tried to shake off her exhaustion. Christine had offered to get her something from the snack bar several times, but she had passed it off. She wanted to concentrate. She had to win this last fight; it would put her in the final round. Everything she wanted to do, felt as if it depended on this moment. Jessie stepped up to the line on the mat. The referee came up. “You know the rules, two minutes or three points. Ready! Bow, Face, Bow...fight!” His hand dropped and came back up, Jessie's opponent was taller and preferred fancier moves, Jessie right away dropped to the mat and kicked his legs out from under him. She rolled up and punched him in the ribs. Jessie backed away, having been awarded the point. They bowed and the referee came up, at his command, Jessie started to take a wild punch, which her opponent caught her arm mid air, she countered with a reverse punch and met him again in the ribs. The final round was cut short. The judges had called two minutes, sweaty and tired, Jessie helped her opponent off the mat. “Face, Bow, face, bow.” The final round blasted by Jessie in a whirl. Before she knew it she was awarded in her ability and age level. By no means, first place, but it did once again draw attention to her skills. A crowd of people all trying to draw her attention approached her. With tact, she eased them off and handed them some contact information for her. Jessie stepped off the mat, and reached for a towel in her duffel bag. The roar from the crowd, fell deaf on her ears, though Jessie had loved tournaments, she didn't fight for the crowd. She fought for the need to get ahead. She left an address with the officials and she joined Christine at the front entrance. “Why aren't we going out the back?” “That's the first place the reporters look. I don't care much for them.” Jessie and Christine left the stadium without trouble. “Jessie, I never imagined any one could move like that.” “Well, sometimes Chris, you move and you don't know why.” Jessie shrugged and sank into the bus seat next to Christine. “How did you get so good at so many things?” Jessie shook her head. “Luck of the draw, I don’t think about those things.”
Posted 200311.30-RHM |