Jason came around the mossy boulder marking - and concealing - the entrance of the cave and into a heavy veil of falling snow. It was much denser than he’d experience a few hours ago, when he’d awakened to find the entire world had gone mad. He glanced upward at the sky, but could only make out the very tops of the trees and nothing more. It appeared as though the clouds themselves had descended upon the earth, closing in all around, cutting their visibility to about twenty yards. It played tricks with sound too. Sometimes, when he we heard something, it sounded like he was underwater, lacking the ability to ring out. At others, it became suddenly magnified, startling, because it seemed much closer than it actually was.
He could make out Garfield’s tracks in the deep snow, determine where the big cat had already run. It seemed to him, the mighty feline had run back and forth a few times in the area, immediately surrounding, the cave, before venturing farther off. Twenty feet beyond, his tracks vanished into the obscurity of the storm and the density of the trees about them. The wind had picked up a little, but was still no more than a steady breeze softly pushing at the sheets of snow, making huge eddies sway and meander as they fell lazily to the ground.
What surprised him though, was the temperature. It had dropped severely in the twenty minutes or so he’d been in the cave. It felt like a chilly slap against his cheeks, and within a few moments of exposure, his face already felt pinched and rough, as if he had been out in the elements for hours.
“Holy crap, man, it got freakin’ cold out here,” exclaimed Joaquin, who stood a few paces ahead of Jason, stomping his feet as if he could shake off the iciness of the air. His boots sank deep into the snow, making a crunching thud with every footfall.
“My grandma always says, ‘it’s colder than a witch’s tit in Alaska’, when she walks into a chill that stops her in her tracks,” remarked Anthony, making both him and Joaquin laugh aloud before they stop themselves.
They got an exasperated huff from Kenai for their lack of foresight.
Mr. Patas wasn’t paying them any mind. He was already using his extraordinary hearing, intent on what was around their immediate vicinity. His ears were turning back and forth, sometimes in unison, sometimes not. Jason could see flashes of deep pink skin surrounded by tuffs of white fur every time he turned far enough to the side.
“Ha, ha, dude, I like that one,” said Joaquin still laughing in spurts.
He’s always been a titty-man, thought Jason as he approached the two larger boys.
Kenai was ignoring them now, looking at Mr. Patas, waiting.
After a time, Mr. Patas looked back at Kenai and said in his somewhat squeaky voice that typically rushed out of his mouth so fast Jason could barely understand the beast. “The way is clear, Great Canine.” He jogged passed them all, with surprising agility, balanced on its giant toes. Somehow, they kept him from sinking too far into the mushy precipitation, encumbering him to a lesser degree than the rest of them.
Jason looked after the animal. Then saw Garfield come looping out of the heavy snowfall further beyond. Without any preamble, the tiger-sized, housecat strode directly up to Kenai, stopping a pace or two away. “The way is clear for now,” he stated simply, dashing off, back into the storm and out of sight.
Kenai glanced at the boys. “Let’s get going then, shall we?”
They all set off, through the blinding snow and soft swirling breezes with Kenai leading. The three boys walked behind her, side by side, speaking in low voices as they went. Mr. Patas walked off to their right, not wanting the sound of their footsteps to interfere with his hearing as they sloughed through the landscape. It was obvious to Jason, the rabbit-man didn’t want to miss anything of importance. If he did, it might very well cost them their lives.
“So, Joaquin, what school do you go to… or did go to?” asked Anthony, walking with his hands in his pockets, the first telltale sign he was getting cold as well. His hands always got cold first.
Jason turned to look at his friend who was walking in between him and Anthony as he replied, “Both Jason and I go to Eagle Rock High School. I think we’ve both been going there since the seventh grade, you know, because it’s also a Junior High as well.”
“Yeah, I know,” Anthony began with a dry smile. “That’s funny, man, because I’ve been going there since the ninth grade. This is my second year attending the school now. I didn’t do Junior High there, though, I went to Luther Burbank Middle school right after elementary. I transferred over when I graduated,” informed Anthony.
They continued through the cold, following Garfield’s footprints through the snow, although they couldn’t see him. He was ranging farther ahead and out of sight.
“Really, wow, what a small world,” commented Jason. “I mean, what are the chances?” he trailed off looking about at the strange world around him. ...that we’re all here, together, in this place, he finished his thought silently.
“How come we haven’t seen each other before? I mean, we know a lot of people at the school and yet we haven’t met,” wondered Joaquin.
“Probably because you guys are jocks and I -,” Anthony stopped abruptly. “I mean, you are jocks, right?” Both of the other boys nodded slowly at that. “That’s what I thought. It’s likely we haven’t bumped into each other, because I hang out with a bunch of musicians. We don’t hang out in the main quad area. You know, how most of the students tend to gather around the grassy area, right? We hang out in between the bungalows, more towards the back of the school. It’s a spot we’ve been hanging around for some time now,” explained Anthony, looking at Jason and his friend, wondering if they were going to pigeonhole him into some sort of high school cliché clique.
The moment stretched for a bit, bordering on the uncomfortable.
Instead, sounding as though he was interested, Jason asked, “What instrument do you play?”
Anthony sniggered peevishly, though not overly embarrassed, inwardly relieved their conversation hadn’t devolved into the typical and the uninspired. “Me, ha-ha, I actually don’t play one, I just sort of ended up with friends who do. Some of them are in the Jazz band at school, and a few others are in a band together. You know, they do gigs here and there. Mostly, house parties and garage kick-backs and such,” Anthony added with a thoughtful shrug. “I always wanted to learn to play the guitar, but for some reason or another I never got around to it.” Joaquin grunted and kept walking in silence.
“So what do you do, then?” asked Jason, kicking at pile of snow in his path, spraying snow in front of all three of them.
“What do you mean like what do I do for fun or a hobby or something like that?”
“Yeah, man, whatever. What do you do when you’re being you?” clarified Jason.
“What are you, a hippy now?” inquired Joaquin sarcastically.
“What?” was Jason indignant question.
“What do you mean, what?” answered Joaquin with a question. “You just sounded like some left-wing nut-job right now.”
Anthony laughed at that, while Jason just frowned at his longtime friend as if he had sprouted a second head.
“What do you doooo when you’re being youuuu, man, oooh wooow, duuude!” mimicked Joaquin using an accent Jason couldn’t place. It was some amalgamation of a hippy, a stoner and a surfer dude all mixed and mashed together.
“Whatever,” was all Jason said and fell silent.
Anthony took a deep breath. “I guess you could say I became a computer nerd, because I play a lot of online games and stuff. I have a ton of online friends that I keep in contact with on the various social networks, when I’m not hanging out with friends from school. It’s kinda cool to have people to talk to all over the world, you know?” Anthony looked back at the ground before him, seeming a little nervous as what the other two were going to say about him.
Jason began to think maybe Anthony didn’t get out all that much. He was definitely was no party animal, which was actually a good thing, the more he thought about it. Being
“The-Center-of-Attention-at-Every-Party-Guy” wasn’t always cool. He was usually the first jerk to end up worshipping the porcelain god…
“I think that’s cool, man.”
Jason was surprised to hear the words come out of Joaquin’s mouth. His friend usually dismissed anyone as useless if he or she didn’t consider bench-pressing 200 pounds a must in life. Wrestling was indeed a huge portion of what Joaquin did, thought about and practiced, during the course of any usual week. Things not falling under that narrow prevue in his mind were usually foreign and unnecessary to him. It wasn’t like he was mean about it to anyone, about what they found interesting. He was merely intent on something else.
Joaquin must’ve seen his expression, because he added, “I mean, it would be cool have people to talk to if everyone else you know is busy or asleep or something, you know, right Jay?”
Jason recovered quickly under his friend’s gaze. “Yeah that would be cool.”
“What do you guys do?” Anthony’s eyes went back and forth between Jason and Joaquin, genuine interest in his gaze.
“I’m a wrestler,” began Joaquin almost immediately, “so that takes up a lot of time. You know, the working out, meeting weight, flexibility training, building stamina, etc. Sometimes it feels more like a full-time job than an extra-curricular activity.”
“Are you any good?”
Jason answered for his friend with what he believed was the absolute truth. “This dude here is probably the best wrestler the school has seen in the past 20 years. I mean that, no joke. He is hands down the best.”
“Hey thanks, Jay. Now I remember why I don’t squash like a bug when I really want to do just that,” kidded Joaquin under the veneer of a compliment.
Jason just shrugged and kept walking.
“I would imagine you are pretty good, then. I mean being as tall and as big as you are,” said Anthony, eyeing Joaquin’s bulk, evident even under the huge jacket he was wearing.
“I think what helps the most is my speed. I am typically faster than most guys my size, so I am able to react and execute grips or positions quicker than they can… usually. You never know though, right, some of the guys on the national level are pretty phenomenal,” said Joaquin.
Jason could see his friend was pondering the thought of not being able to compete anymore. Not many tournaments happening at the moment in the Melded World, he guessed to himself.
Anthony nodded, his eyes distant as well.
“What about you, Jason, what do you do when you’re being you?” asked Anthony finishing with Joaquin’s loser-guy accent.
Jason chuckled.
Joaquin just smiled.
This guy really isn’t half bad at all, was Jason’s immediate thought, then paused as he considered his answer. “Well, I have been in martial arts since I was about three years old or there about, which I know is such an Asian stereotype, but my Dad was always into Kung Fu. He enrolled me almost from the time I could walk without falling down.
“When my Mom left us though, he sort of became disinterested and would still take me, but never stayed to watch and stuff, like he used to when I was younger. Then, when I was about ten years old or so, I got sick of going to practice. It was something I really wasn’t into anymore either. Until, I came across the name of Grandmaster James S. Benko.”
Anthony raised his eyebrows, not because he knew the man. It was the name. It sounded funny.
Jason smiled at the others reaction, but forged on. “He was this Green Beret who served three tours of duty in the Vietnam War. He used to train the Vietnamese troops, and others who wanted to learn, in weapons and hand-to-hand combat. While he stationed there, he came across two Grandmasters who had helped train the Korean “White Horse” and “Tiger” military divisions who were known all over the world for their bravery and aggressiveness while fighting. He became so interested in their method of training and fighting techniques, he went to study under them for many years until he became some insane 9th degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He was one of a few non-Koreans to achieve such a high ranking.
“I think he eventually went on to earn two more 9th degree black belts in other forms of Korean martial arts as well a dozen other lesser black belts in a bunch of different forms and styles of hand-to-hand fighting.
“I’m really not sure why, but something about that dude’s story intrigued me. I decided I wanted to be a non-Korean Grandmaster just like him, so I asked my Dad if I could enroll in Tae Kwon Do. He said it was fine with him as long as I finished what I started, which is another Asian axiom. But, in the end, he agreed, and that was that,” finished Jason, looking at Anthony’s face to see what his reaction would be. All he saw was wonder in the other boy’s eyes.
“So how far along are you? I mean, are you a black belt?”
Jason had been correct in his assessment of Anthony’s expression. He seemed in awe of him and the excitement in his voice proved it.
“Well,” Jason began with a little pride in his tone, “I am a fourth degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do now, but, a few years ago, I learned what they teach of the art form in the Unites States is primarily the “sport” form of Tae Kwon Do. The “sport” form, I learned, focuses on speed and competition scoring rather than power from the core of the body and self-defense, which is the traditional way of Tae Kwon Do. When I asked my instructors about this, they said I could learn other forms of Korean martial arts to strengthen the weaker areas of my training. That’s when I took up Hapkido, which is more a self-defense oriented form of combat using a lot of circular motion, non-resisting movements and control of an opponent through footwork and body positioning to gain advantage. I guess you could say it is very close to Japanese Jujutsu.
“Then, I began learning a little about Shim Soo Do, which is Korean swordsmanship, and I just started on some Han Kuk Mu Ki Do, which is fighting with all traditional types of Korean weaponry.” Jason fell silent, smiled quickly. He glanced around through the snow and soft wind, not really seeing much of anything but white on white on white.
“Damn, dude, that sounds real cool,” gushed Anthony as if a completely new set of ideas had just formed in his brain. Jason had to smile again at that. “So are you a black belt in the other forms as well?”
“Yes and no,” replied Jason with another laugh. “I am a fourth degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, like I said before. Though, I’m only a first degree black belt in Hapkido, a brown belt in Shim Soo Do, and a poor ‘Padewon learner’ in Han Kuk Mu Ki Do.” He was smiling out of the corner of his mouth.
The other boys busted out in loud guffaws. The Star Wars reference to a Jedi just beginning his training sounded ridiculous in a place like the Melded World.
That earned them a dark look from Kenai. “Boys, keep it down, we still do not know for certain if the enemy lurks. It would be mindful of each of you to think on that, before you let everyone and everything know precisely where we are.” She hadn’t stopped walking. She had admonished them with a turn of her head, glancing back to speak to them, a disapproving look on her large face.
“Sorry, Kenai,” said Anthony, his voice subdued.
“Crap, man, we gotta keep our wits about us, you guys. That was totally lame, we should’ve known better,” added Joaquin, his face contrite and serious. He had an abrupt thought and asked in a much lower voice, “Hey, man, I didn’t know you made Brown in Shim Soo, when did that happen?”
“Dude, last Friday, I had my belt test the same day as you big wrestling match, remember that’s why neither of us went to each other’s event… Duh!” replied Jason in a hoarse whisper, shaking his head at his friend. What a moron, he thought to himself.
“Oh yeah, yeah, I remember now. Well, shit man better late than never – congrats on getting the ‘brown’, I knew you wanted it pretty bad,” saluted Joaquin and was about to say more when Mr. Patas cut him off.
“Quiet, boys, Garfield approaches with some urgency, I believe.” His voice still as squeaky and rushed as before.
From beyond the obscurity of the storm, Garfield’s ambling form came, bounding through the snow-covered landscape.
“We have trouble,” he began when he stopped before Kenai, not even breathing hard. “I heard the tormented cries of a young child not too far ahead…”
~~~~~~~~<<<<<<{ ☼ }>>>>>>~~~~~~~~
~ 49 ~
Shadows in the Murk
Day One, Thursday, 8:16 am…
“A child, are you certain?” inquired Kenai, her tone tight with emotion.
“Absolutely,” retorted Garfield with no visible expression on his face, his tone devoid of inflection.
“One of the Twelve, you think?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Kenai appeared to mull the situation over for a few seconds. “You did well by coming back, my friend,” began Kenai. She turned and looked at the others. “We will approach the location of this child in force and in three groups of two, each of you boys will team with one of us, so you will each be protected. I will hold the center with Jason, Anthony you pair with your Garfield on my left flank, while Joaquin and Mr. Patas will support my right. We will space ourselves apart about ten yards apart with the boys trailing a few steps behind their respective companions, but, not too far, ok boys? We do not want to get separated and lose sight of one another in this dreadful weather. You could become hopelessly lost in minutes. Everyone understand?”
She got nods from everyone as the boys exchanged nervous glances.
“Good, let us go and find out who is abusing this child.”
Anthony heard a sudden ferocity fill her tone as she turned and faced the snowstorm. This wasn’t the playful, carefree Kenai of the past. He was looking at a warrior now.
Anthony walked five or six strides to the left of Kenai’s position with Garfield at his side and, waited for a moment, until Joaquin and Mr. Patas did the same from their location on the right. Then all three groups left at once. They walked parallel to one another, forming a ragged line about twenty-five feet across, meandering through the trees, now covered with so much snow. They seemed to sag with its’ weight, every branch and twig was drooping above them threateningly. Anthony hoped they wouldn’t get clobbered by any of the huge formations of snow from above. Some of them were so large, they were capable of causing serious injury to any unfortunate soul they’d pummel should they fall.
The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves Page 40
