Taj's Early Years

by Lotta Bangs

  Lorna loved all three so Maggie gave her and Emil copies and made a bronze of the last one. She also made a large still photo of Emil’s best shot in that match, taken from an angle which made it look much closer than the reality.

  My bust of Violet was the most spectacular because the model was so striking with lovely bone structure, as well as being a very sweet person. Maggie also used a monochrome still of her sparring with Paul for his choreographed test.

  I made other busts of the Evans girls and renowned martial arts personalities: Justo Dieguez founder of Keysi do, for Buenos Aires, where I had originally taught it. That was my first bare-chested bust, deeper than most so I could trace out his arm-ringing tattoo and beautifully defined chest and back muscles. For Mexico I did the Keysi co-founder, Andy Norman in the defensive ‘thinking man’ stance, wearing a tank and also flashing his matching tattoo, with Bruce Lee for Peru.

  * * *

  I offered Paul a dojo of his own to run, but he wasn’t interested.

  “No thanks, Taj. I’m staying right here by your side.

  “I want to share every possible moment with you. To watch you grow up and blossom and get to know you as well as anyone can. I also figure that if I spend the next nine years making myself indispensable, I’ll get a jump on your other suitors.”

  I climbed up onto his lap for a hug and kissed his cheek for the first time. Paul kissed me back on the forehead as usual.

  “That’s very sweet, Paul, but don’t cut yourself off from adult company.”

  He laughed, placing me back on the floor. “Taj, the only children you see are the few in your classes. All your friends are adults. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “Actually, no, I hadn’t. I had such a surfeit of five-year-old girls when I first moved in with Fermina, I still feel surrounded by them. I attended so many birthday parties and sleepovers, where the most thrilling event was playing with the latest weeing doll. I must have been avoiding the little kids since.”

  Paul laughed so hard, he almost fell out of his chair. “I can’t even imagine your playing with a weeing doll,” he gasped. “Oh, Sweetie, that must have been stultifying for a mind like yours. You deserve a medal for even trying to fit in with groups of little girls.”

  “I wish you’d been around back then to explain that to Fermina. She was so pleased that I was popular with all the small fry and had so many suitable little friends.

  “We had nothing in common. They only liked me because I had mouthed off to the Sunday school teacher and got myself expelled. They all thought I was very brave, but I just couldn’t stand all that crap she was spouting. The fool woman had no right to teach religion with only third hand opinions. She’d never even read the Bible. I’ve found most ardent Christians haven’t.”

  “And you quoted Chapter and verse and made her look stupid?”

  “I quoted Shakespeare too.”

  “Well, if she called you the Devil, she deserved telling off. You may be iconoclastic, but you’re the kindest person I’ve ever known, and you’ve done an enormous amount of good for less fortunate people. It’s not the behavior expected of a trained assassin.”

  “Actually, thinking kind thoughts about, and ways to help people was one of the most successful antidotes I thought up for some of the brainwashing Typhon fed us.

  “They depersonalized and marginalized our potential targets, so rehumanizing and making them more sympathetic straightened that out. I guess that way of thinking about and treating people became a habit after a while.

  “I do feel an empathy for the abused ladies because I understand the horror of being objectified and made other by our masters. We were less than chattels, because those are safeguarded.

  “They liked to hurt us and occasionally to kill off a few of us at random, apparently just to keep us off balance and prove how valueless we were. That supposedly prevented our getting any ideas of self-worth or of thinking we might be able to have some kind of a real life. We were meant to feel hopeless and helpless, but we beat them and escaped.

  “At least, I think most of us escaped. I was the last one out and didn’t see any groups of captives. We were supposed to leave call signs on designated internet sites. But the only one that ever appeared was mine.

  “Oh Paul, it’s so hard not knowing. Surely, if they made it they would know about me. I haven’t led a cloistered life, and I always sign them a message when I’m interviewed for TV.

  “They must also have seen Maggie’s ads touting my dojos as refuges, so they could have safely left a message at any of those.

  “Anyway, what else would I do with all my money but help people? I won’t support the charity industry where so many behests are wasted on junkets and personnel development purposes not intended by the donor. Neither do I want to start a charity of my own with a large bureaucracy.

  “Instead I subsidize several thousand crazy cat ladies and hundreds of old guys worldwide, who take in stray cats or dogs and feed others every night at various sites. I pay desexing and other veterinary fees for feral animals too and support four no-kill shelters.”

  Paul pulled me in for another hug. “You’re an education, Taj. You have a unique slant on the world.”

  * * *

  Paul, Ron, their available sisters, and I attended each opening and stayed at least a week. It was interesting to meet the famous Don Evans, now happily using Paul’s deodorant and toiletries range. He was naturally charming even without the help of his pheromone. And athletic, good-looking, softly spoken, gentle and courteous in that old-fashioned style. I could see where Paul had obtained his courtly manners and relaxed easy way with women.

  Don also shared Paul’s wonderful full proprioception gift, so I hired him to work with the newly escaped ladies. He was a natural for the job. Despite their poor histories with men, each of those women trusted him and accepted his comfort when they needed it. Don soothed them with hugs and understanding words as easily as his son had.

  There was no problem finding suitable staff as I had so many people already fully trained in my techniques and trained more in each dojo, always selecting those with innovative ability.

  So by the time the French dojo, originally planned as fourth, was ready for business it had become my tenth to open.

  Chapter 27

  The French Dojo

  Finally, the French dojo was ready. I tried to persuade Fermina to come with us, but she wasn’t interested.

  The classes had been booked out for months ahead. I took five hundred experienced teachers with me so nobody would be overworked. All my people had been brushing up on their French so they could carry a conversation about more than martial arts. We had a surprising number of staff who were fluent in several languages and always eager to expand their vocabularies.

  The site was glorious and already attracting many tourists. The fresh air of the town so salubrious after the sickening airport and traffic fumes, it was an actual pleasure to breathe deeply, after we had coughed out the mucky dregs and carbonic acid at the bottom of our lungs.

  My futuristic ring roads had turned out beautifully. Both with the translucent whiteness of moonstone, shot with chatoyance, they attracted the eye without producing glare. The traffic road was a little closer to shore than the higher pedestrian way and each was unsupported, except at the places where they joined the mainland at the town and university and the short turn-offs connecting to the towers.

  The lake was encircled by a wide galenite mesh shelf built up with soil and planted out with Melaleuca and a variety of colorful plants. There was another high pedestrian walkway above this garden. Both footpaths had regular canine comfort stations, L-shaped in profile, to wean the dogs off trees. Every tree in the town also had been ringed by CCSs to immediately remove both offerings and stink.

  My dojo tower was enormous. The full width circular martial arts rooms could easily take 50,000 people each, 60,000 at a squeeze. The ceilings were thirty feet high and the walls lined with giant Vid screens which
would relay images of teachers and assistants showing each kata move much larger than life-sized.

  All the usual features were there and 15,500 women had already moved in with their children and some mothers. Even a few mothers-in-law who didn’t wish to be the butts of their sons’ anger when they discovered their wives had left. I hadn’t realized that Europeans were so close to their parents.

  The women had not appeared en masse, but had been gathering for over a week and had been housed at Galen. Another nine thousand had simply stayed at Galen which satisfied all their immediate needs.

  Grandfathers also had been part of the family exodus, but Maggie refused to allow them to move in with the mothers and children. It was so obvious even to a non-mind-reader that they hoped for an all-expenses-paid holiday in this lovely place. As the olds usually owned the family home, Maggie offered them legal aid to have the abuser evicted, or the couple could move directly to Galen and the house be sold.

  As the older people had allowed the abuse to continue in their home, they were not considered suitable support to help the woman make a fresh start with her children, and their help was definitely not required as child-minders. Galen children didn’t waste their time being minded—they were always learning something.

  In other cases, the grandmothers had also been subjected to abuse when trying to defend their daughters and grandchildren.

  Emil, Lorna and I didn’t get involved in that side, leaving it up to Maggie and her people to handle. She was the only one who knew the truth of each situation. But nobody was getting a free holiday at our expense.

  The children had often brought along pets to keep them safe from a reprisal. Maggie had always made separate arrangements for those as I couldn’t have frightened animals running loose in a dojo full of strangers. Most of the animals were already acclimatized to and settled into the Galen routine.

  The children were allowed daily visits with their pets in a safe area. Caged rodents, reptiles and birds, and tanked fish, were the only creatures allowed in the rooms. ’Porting cage floor liners were issued for hygiene purposes.

  All this was interesting, but my area of concern was the martial arts.

  * * *

  But first, there was the media ordeal to get through.

  The European reporters were even worse than the American variety. They tried to raise some kind of scandal about poor orphan me and my lack of parental protection, then about all the suspicious adults who surrounded and apparently controlled me.

  I became infuriated.

  “One more stupid question about who looks after me or controls me, and I will have the enquirer and whatever media he or she represents banned for life from my dojos and presence.

  “I am a tough, six-year-old kid. I am a prodigy, currently working on several university degree courses. I am fluent and literate in over a dozen languages and am picking up more. That means I have a great deal of intelligence. I also have street smarts. Nobody takes advantage of me.

  “My adoptive mother and I are close; she sensibly prefers to stay in the background, away from the media attention which I cannot avoid.

  “I am far too young to be interesting to your audience except as an anomaly. I don’t have a sex life; I don’t party. I don’t follow modern music trends, rarely watch movies or videos and never TV.

  “I am boringly busy with my studies when I’m not actively teaching martial arts, exercising or eating. I don’t have anything in common with other children. I live surrounded by adults who are my friends and employees.

  “I am a master of martial arts. Nobody messes with me.”

  * * *

  Emil took over answering questions after that. The reporters became excited when they noticed Lorna’s engagement ring. That was something their audience could relate to.

  Paul and I left to have a quiet private meal and prepare for our first class. I needed to meditate to calm myself before eating. I hate it when the media stirs me enough to cause an emotional reaction. I am terrified at what I might have blurted out that could end my new life—end my life completely, in fact, as Typhon wouldn’t allow me to live afterwards.

  Only Paul’s reassuring hand pressing on my shoulder had restrained me. In future I should take some Rescue® Remedy before facing the media. Better to be calm and centered beforehand than to need calming afterwards.

  * * *

  Our martial arts room was packed with 45,000 paying students, some invited freebies, 9,000 women and a few hundred of their children. Paying guests get preference. The remaining women would be fitted into later classes.

  Standing on a central rostrum, I gave a short version of the preconceptions speech beforehand, stressed the importance of precise movements, then began the first savate kata, two moves at a time, adding in two more at each repeat.

  My 310 assistants roamed the floor, correcting stance while the vid screens replayed my movements. We had given up the apple rewards before Buenos Aires as too messy for a large group and rather time consuming.

  Paul and I noticed her immediately and most of my other helpers homed in too. One of the fiftyish grandmothers had Paul’s full proprioception gift and was making each move perfectly from the outset. Don’s mother was French, so this woman could be part of the same family. And yes, there was a younger woman near her who was almost as good.

  Emil beamed at me, pleased to have started his own collection of people with perfect stance.

  I stood grinning on my little dais as Paul took on Mum and Emil attacked the daughter after we’d been through the kata just once. Both interactions were displayed on the screens.

  Emil hadn’t witnessed Ron’s strong reaction when first attacked so almost had his jaw broken with her spectacular kick to his face. I’m sure his fingers were bruised as he caught her foot, released it and returned her a slow kick to the other shin. Quick on the uptake, she sparred with him while the vid replayed her great kick from several viewpoints.

  Paul managed to project friendliness at the outset as he sparred with Mom, who hugged him afterwards. The daughter wept easily as she sparred, grinning proudly at the French champion she had almost knocked out.

  I gave a short version of my breakthrough speech and continued dancing the kata. At the second full repetition, the breakthroughs started coming regularly and all my assistants were soon busy sparring with the excited tyros as the two special ladies helped correct stance.

  Mom’s latest correctee suddenly had it. Mum smiled and feinted at him and they sparred together a while. The daughter didn’t take much longer and shortly everybody seemed to be sparring with someone.

  Before the fourth repetition was complete, Maggie told me via my earpiece, that every student had crossed the barrier. Her complete awareness of everything in the room made a huge contribution to our speed and efficiency.

  To allow the shyer, less pushy students to learn to recognize perfect form in others, I’d had to restrain the eager beavers from helping more people break through after they had aided four students each. The happy excitement soon encouraged everyone to develop and show their skills.

  Manon and her daughter, Iseline inspired the class so greatly that we had completed the first day’s work before the second break.

  Everybody was now moving rapidly and most were already approaching, or at, low silver level. The literature detailing the rules and requirements at the various levels had been distributed at registration and Maggie had already tested each person on them. This time there would be no annoying delays while students learned these essentials.

  We played the tapes of my bouts with the French champions before the break to give the students something to think about while eating. They caused considerable excitement. Apparently few people had really believed Emil’s stories of my expertise.

  * * *

  I had deliberately saved all the kata with new innovative moves until the end so I could explain the circumstances which had inspired each one. We went straight into them after the meal. Paul and
Emil gave commentaries on their inventions and several other people spoke about their own or a friend’s discoveries. Julius, Gemina and other innovators had taped their stories to explain what had inspired them.

  I interspersed the innovative moves with those including the more difficult spins and Decalage sidesteps, and allowed the class plenty of sparring time to try out the new moves outside of the kata format as they began to compose and choreograph their themed test pieces.

  The local University had agreed to lend their teachers to help with our savate judging. Each of the ruling Savate associations had also sent representatives. I was certain most of them and other savate officials were taking my class incognito to check out the competition.

  Chapter 28

  Dareau

  I was surprised when Emil finally located and brought me the young boy Dareau to partner for his choreographed routine. Maggie had been correct—we were almost twins, with the same build and coloring. Though looking out for him, I hadn’t noticed Dareau during the day as he had hidden behind the taller bodies. He had been the third person to break through today and remained third or fourth at each kata. Dareau was seven, rather shy, and had been taking savate and taekwondo for three years. And he was good.

  He wanted me to use a few of the moves I had shown in the tapes as he had thought up answers to them. At our first run-through, his attempted responses came close, but didn’t quite work.

  Emil, who had stayed to watch, encouraged jubilantly. “Ah, my boy, you’ve already done better than I ever managed with la Tabanita. You will be the one to avenge my honor and return pride to France.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic, Emil. This isn’t a fight. We’re just trying to produce an effective routine. And Dareau has the advantage of matching my build, youth and energy.” I grinned cheekily. “He’s not a doddering old fogey with fixed ideas as you were when we fought.”