“I trained you well …” What a nut. I’d learned more from Boss Schwarz than Beth. But she made a good point. For all I knew, this guy was a killing machine. I strapped on the sparring gear Kimura-san offered me: padded headgear, gloves, and boots. Mine were red. My opponent’s were blue. I didn’t bring my mouth guard to Japan, so I’d better not let myself get hit in the face.
I recited Beth’s words. It isn’t the size of the muscles—it’s the size of the brain. If you fight smart, you’ll fight best. Plus this guy had a smug look on his face that hinted: small brain, big ego.
Kimura-san backed away from the mat and called, “Hajime!”
Ego Boy started bouncing on his feet. Up down, up down, like the mat was on fire. I stayed back, gauging my foe, as Boss Schwartz liked us to call our opponents. Who knew what this guy was capable of? He sprung forward and jabbed a fist at my mid-section. I tucked my arms against my chest to block, then darted in with my own snap punch.
He blocked me.
I slid back a few steps, not liking the way these uniform pants felt. I’d probably rip out the crotch if I tried a side kick. Ego Boy came closer, bounce, bounce, bouncing the whole time. He launched forward and thrust a few punches. I blocked but stumbled back a bit. Ego Boy leapt into the air with a powerful roundhouse kick that nailed me in the chest.
Ugh. Just my luck. Ego Boy’s skill matched his ego. Dude must do some serious body conditioning too—his limbs were like tire irons, even through the gloves.
“Yame!” Kimura-san yelled.
Ego Boy strutted back to his side of the mat. I did the same, trying to pretend that his kick wasn’t stinging worse than one of Beth’s.
“Mawashi geri, nihon.” Kimura-san pointed at Ego Boy.
The Japanese students cheered. The Americans clapped, as well.
“Come on, Spencer!” Gabe yelled.
Nihon was two. I didn’t have a clue what the rest of Kimura-san’s words had meant. All I knew for sure was that so far, I was losing in front of the pretty girls.
Kimura-san yelled, “Hajime!” and Ego Boy started bouncing.
I watched the guy, looking for a weakness. He kept on hopping, probably looking for the same in me. He wouldn’t get close enough for another kick, though. A slightly more powerful one of those might crack my sternum. I circled slowly to the right. Ego Boy bounced with me. With each counterclockwise step, I inched closer. I suddenly lunged at him, sent three punches to his stomach, then a quick jab to his chin.
Contact.
Ego Boy staggered back, and the Americans cheered.
“Well done, Spencer!” Arianna called.
“Yame!” Kimura-san pointed at me. Chodan, sita tzuki, ippon.”
“Ippon?” I looked at Kimura-san. That was it? One point? I sighed and readied myself for another bout. At this pace, it was going to be a long match. And Ego Boy looked peeved. He paced back and forth on his side of the mat like a caged bull.
I furrowed my brows and waited for, “Hajime!”
Ego Boy came at me hard. I jumped back and curved in a circle, blocking a series of blows. I’d never seen anyone hit this fast, not even Beth. I could barely keep up.
Crack!
“Ahh!” Pain shot like a bullet through my jaw. My feet left the ground, and my back hit the floor hard. The air shattered in my lungs.
“Yame!” Kimura-san said.
No kidding. I rolled onto my side, forced a breath, then rolled to my front and heaved my aching form onto my knees.
Kimura-san was pointing at Ego Boy. Big shock there. “Jodan, ura uchi, ippon. Kani waza, sanbon.”
Sanbon? He got three points for the sweep and another point for the strike? What was it now? Six to one? I stood and saw Beth out of the corner of my eye. Great. Six to one with Beth and Isabel and Grace and the twins watching. Why had I even bothered? Sweat trickled down my chin, and I wiped it away.
It was blood, not sweat. Perfect. I was losing six to one and bleeding—in front of everyone. I ran my tongue over my teeth just in case, but everything seemed to be accounted for.
“Hajime!”
I jumped to my feet and sank into a defensive stance. Ego Boy bounced forward, clearly no longer threatened by his pathetic, bleeding American opponent. I waited, jabbed a few meaningless hits and kicks his way, but bided my time for the right moment. I couldn’t afford a dumb move. The crowd’s gaze burned into me. I had to take this guy down. At least once. This was supposed to be my chance to impress Keiko, not star in the Spencer Is A Loser show.
Then it happened. Ego Boy lowered his hands and paced for three steps instead of bouncing. I darted forward and kicked him in the ribs, then punched a follow up to his gut.
“Yame!”
Yes! I skipped to my side of the floor and waited to hear my score.
“Chudan, yoki geri, nihon. Jodan, shita tzuki, ippon.”
Isabel and Arianna cheered, and I grinned at them. Four to six. At least I didn’t totally suck anymore.
“Hajime!”
Ego Boy was steamed. He darted around the mat and jabbed at me, but I was in the zone now, baby. For a long time we simply moved, neither of us getting in a hit. Then Ego Boy grinned and sent a hand strike to my throat. Not hard enough to do anything but sting, but mother pus bucket, it scared me.
The crowd gasped.
“Yame!” Kimura-san pointed at Ego Boy and spoke in Japanese. I massaged my throat and swallowed a few times, shocked by the smirk on my opponent’s face. That lunatic was toying with me.
The Americans clapped. I looked around. What had I missed?
“Hajime!”
Whoa! I jumped back into position as Ego Boy flew at me, punching and kicking like I was a sparring bag. This went on until the guy landed a powerful punch to my solar plexus, knocking the wind out of me. Then he tapped my neck again, which made me jump. What the Kobe Bryant was this guy’s problem?
“Yame!”
Jake booed.
I wanted to take this guy to the floor and get him in an arm bar. Forget the rules. It wasn’t like he was following them. I wondered how the jumping bean would handle a little jujitsu. Because of my size, I was strongest on the floor. But Ego Boy was probably good at that too.
“… ippon.”
The Americans cheered. I hadn’t been paying attention and wasn’t sure what had happened. I think I got a penalty point. Maybe one before that too. If that was true—
“Hajime!”
—I just needed a sweep to win.
Ego Boy ran at me, sending a combination of moves my way. I dodged or blocked all of them, waiting for the right moment. Ego Boy’s eyes flashed. He stepped forward and faked a front snap punch, then sent a sidekick to my waist. I blocked the kick with my forearm, grabbed Ego Boy’s arm and kicked out the leg he was standing on. Dude went down like a snowman in Okinawa. Whoosh.
“Yeah!” Beth yelled. “Way to go, Tiger!”
I grinned at the twins and wanted to say, That’s me. I’m a tiger.
“Yame!” Kimura-san pointed at me. “Ashi harai, sanbon.
Shiro no kachi.”
Applause and cheers rang out around me. I’d won!
Ego Boy stepped forward, his face slack as if someone had flipped the switch on his emotions. Creepy. He bowed slightly. “Arigato Gozaimashita.”
Sure, now he was going to be polite. I bowed back. “Arigato Gozaimashita.”
Ego Boy left, striding away like he was late, late for a very important date.
I smiled at the twins again—mission accomplished—then turned to my friends, grinning wide, and pumped my fist in the air, though my throat still felt like I’d swallowed a gumball that had gotten stuck halfway down.
Jun came over to congratulate me as well. “Supensa-san, you very good karate,” Jun said, the gap from his chipped tooth showing in his wide smile.
“Thanks.” I wondered if Jun had broken his tooth at this dojo. Maybe Ego Boy had done it.
Kimura-san directed his students in a few d
rills, so I sat down to watch and traded the sparring gear for my hat and socks and shoes. When the demo ended, Kimura-san led us Americans back to the front entrance and outside. There was a big grassy lawn between the fitness center and the parking lot. I eyed a black sedan that was parked in the emergency zone. The driver’s side window slid down and Sasquatch—er, Mr. Sloan—gave me a little wave.
I waved back. Man, his job must be so boring.
We stood around, waiting for who knew what. Jun, maybe? The twins? Mr. S was still inside, so maybe we were waiting for him. I was starving. It had to be dinnertime. I grabbed my backpack and pulled out My Precious. It was 5:48 p.m.
Arianna came over and grabbed my chin. “Hold still.” She wiped my tender jaw with a damp paper towel.
I jerked back. “Arianna. Don’t.” It was a battle scar now. It made me look tough.
“I just want to make sure you were okay.”
“Ooh! Me too, Tiger. I love wounds.” Beth stepped over and examined my face. I flushed with heat but no longer protested as Arianna swabbed my jaw. I caught sight of Grace glaring over Beth’s shoulder. The pixie had probably been rooting for Ego Boy.
“How can a punch draw blood?” Arianna asked. “A bloody nose makes sense, but a punch elsewhere … ?”
“I didn’t have my mouth guard.” I said. “Plus his fists are like rocks. Even with the gloves, they break the skin.”
“Sounded like it,” Beth said. “He’s a mean one, I think.”
“Why do you say that?” Arianna asked. “It was just a sparring match, right?”
Beth glanced at Arianna then back to me. “Friendly matches don’t tend to draw blood—or the same foul twice in a row. He was messing with you.”
She had that right. I wondered what had bound Ego Boy’s britches.
“You know, in America, karate is a big racket,” Beth said. “A six-year-old can earn a black belt in a year, and they’ve got forty-seven degrees so they can keep charging for tests. But things are different here. These guys are serious about this stuff.” She slapped me on the back and walked to where Jake and Jensina were sitting.
I watched her go, annoyed at the longing pang that shot through my gut. I grabbed Arianna’s wrist. “I think you’ve got it, now. Thanks.”
“Iie!” She skipped off towards a trashcan.
I rolled my eyes and sat on the grass across from Wally and Gabe. It felt good to sit. I massaged my hands a bit. They were sore from all those strikes.
Lukas came and sat on my right. “Dude, you rocked it!” He held out his fist and I tapped it with mine. “I get to take LCT this fall, right?”
“As long as you don’t screw up,” I mumbled.
“No problemo. I’m a good boy,” Lukas said.
“Ha!” Grace said behind him, then walked after Arianna.
I raised my brows at Lukas, and he flashed a guilty grin. “Graciela forgets all the good times we had.”
I snorted a laugh.
“That last sweep was pretty awesome, Spencer,” Gabe said. “And I don’t even like—”
A shadow settled over my left side. “Mo ichi do onegai shimasu.”
I turned and looked up behind me. Ego Boy stood there, blocking the sun. He bowed and repeated his request. “Mo ichi do onegai shimasu.”
I chuckled. Was he kidding? “Uh … no thanks, man. Once was enough for me.” I turned back and made a face at Lukas. What a nut. Did he think I was going to fight him again in the parking lot?
I don’t think so.
Ego Boy poked me in the back. “Mo ichi do onegai shimasu.”
I turned back to him. “Dude. No, thank you. Shiranai. Nai.” Not going to happen. I caught Isabel’s concerned frown from across the lawn. Arianna and Grace stood beside her. I smiled at Isabel, determined to show Grace that I was friends with the goddess Isa—
“Hah ya!”
A sharp throb split my left arm. I gasped and rolled onto my right side in the grass, clutching my arm. Mother pus bucket!
Ego Boy stood over me, leering.
“¡Ay!” Lukas jumped up and over me, pushing Ego Boy out of my line of sight. “Get back!”
Beth was next to leap over me. “Get out of here!” she yelled at Ego Boy. “Jensina, get Mr. S.”
Suddenly voices were everywhere, shouting a confusing mess of English and Japanese, but I could focus on only the pain. That lunatic had tried to break my arm!
Arianna sank onto the lawn beside me. Her fingertips traced my arm. “Spencer, are you all right? Can I see?”
I looked at her and tried to swallow. Pain seared in my arm like it was on fire.
“Grace, give me your soda.” Arianna squeezed my arm and I growled. Then she held a can of soda against it and the coldness distracted me.
A shrieking nasal voice rose over the din. I tipped back my head and scanned the crowd. Between Lukas’s and Gabe’s legs, then Mr. S and Mr. Sloan’s legs, I caught sight of Ego Boy cowering on his knees before Kimura-san on the sidewalk. Kimura-san’s face was red, and he was screaming so fast in Japanese that I didn’t have a clue what he was saying.
That was the last I saw of him before Mr. S stuffed me into Mr. Sloan’s sedan, and we headed for the hospital. The pain lessened some on the ride, and when Grace’s can of soda got too cold on my arm, I drank it. Mr. Sloan thought this was hysterical.
I was glad someone was laughing.
● ● ●
Ego Boy hadn’t broken my arm. He’d “deeply bruised” it, whatever that meant. Probably surrounded by too much muscle to get a clean break. It hurt bad, though.
The doctor put ice on it and gave me an ugly blue sling to wear until the pain went away. I wasn’t wearing a sling without a cast. I’d look like a wimp. But I left it on in Mr. S’s presence. He sat with me in the hospital, never left my side, which I admit, was nice. Then Toda-san showed up and we drove away in his Mr. Bean-sized car that looked more like a white gumdrop than a vehicle. I’d had to cram myself in the back seat like a Jack-in-the-box. My Precious said it was after nine at night. I didn’t know where we were, but it looked like Naha.
“What if Ego Boy comes back?” I asked Mr. S. “That guy is a maniac.”
“Ego Boy?” Mr. S looked back at me and raised an eyebrow. “Bushi Kogawa has been banned from the dojo. And if you see him, I don’t want you fighting him again.”
Gee, if you insist. “Bushi? Doesn’t that mean warrior?”
“Mr. Kimura is extremely apologetic,” Ms. S said. “He’s paying for your medical bills himself.”
“I should hope so. It was his lunatic student who decided to play break-the-bricks with my arm. What kind of crazy karate is Kimura teaching, anyway?”
Mr. S turned his Coke bottle glasses on me. “‘you will never live in the promised land with a bad attitude.’ I’m sorry this happened, but blaming Mr. Kimura is not fair. Remember we’re in a different culture.”
I blew a raspberry. “Well, someone forgot to tell Ego Boy how to behave in his own country.”
Mr. S continued to stare at me, eyebrows raised, lips pursed.
“I’m just venting.”
“Venting is fine. Vent to me all you want. But when you return to the fitness center tomorrow, I expect you to show grace and forgiveness to Mr. Kimura. It’s not his fault his student attacked you. Remember, ‘Manners maketh the man.’”
I blew out a groaning sigh. Mr. S was right, though. It wasn’t Kimura’s fault. It was Bushi Kogawa’s fault.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be good.” I was glad I hadn’t needed a cast. How much would it have sucked to spend the summer in Okinawa and not be able to go in the ocean? “Wait. I can go in the ocean, right? This weekend?” We were going to a beach that Jun had said was “best in Okinawa.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Spencer. You should take it easy.”
“But there’s no cast! If there’s no cast, I should be able to go in the water.” I mean, I didn’t want to swim or anything—barely knew how—but I didn’t
want to sit on the hot sand and watch everyone else have a good time, either.
Mr. S stared at me, but I couldn’t see his eyes, just the passing headlights reflecting off his glasses. “If you’re very careful. I’ve seen my kids play in the ocean, Spencer. You’d better steer clear of the crowd.”
“I will.” Except for Keiko. I needed to get very close to the Asian princess. The sooner, the better.
REPORT NUMBER: 10
REPORT TITLE: I Get Grafittied by the Sun
SUBMITTED BY: Agent-in-Training Spencer Garmond
LOCATION: Manza Beach, Okinawa, Japan
DATE AND TIME: Saturday, June 6, 10:18 a.m.
THE REST OF OUR FIRST WEEK FLASHED by, and on Saturday morning, Jun’s parents drove us an hour north to Manza Beach, which turned out to be the location of paradise. The sand was white. The sky, cloudless. The water, turquoise, and so clear that I could see fish swimming around.
Since Mr. S was here, I was wearing my ugly blue sling, playing some one-armed beach volleyball with Jun when Kimura-san’s fancy black car pulled up. It looked like a Town Car but had a Toyota logo on the front. Jun took off for the parking lot. I followed, jogging with quick steps over the scalding sand, then the scalding pavement.
Arianna and Isabel got out of the car and headed toward me and the beach. Then Kozue and Keiko climbed out, both wearing tiny bikinis: one pink, one blue. Hello. I stopped and stood on the side of one foot to keep my feet from burning. What about Kerri’s ‘no bikini’ rule? I scanned the beach for Gabe’s mom but didn’t see her. Maybe she had no authority over the Japanese girls.
Before Jun reached the car, the twins ran off toward the bathroom, their flip-flops smacking across the pavement. They hadn’t seen Jun or me. I felt stupid watching them go, so I turned around and tried to act cool.
“Hi, Spencer,” Arianna said as she and Isabel walked past.
“Hey.”
These two appeared to have one-piece swimsuits on. Isabel’s was red, and she was wearing a pair of jean shorts with it. Arianna’s was black, and she had some kind of big tie-dye scarf tied around her waist.
I followed them with little hopping steps, trying to keep my feet off the scalding asphalt. I stopped when I reached the edge of the beach and dug my feet into cooler sand. I turned back to wait for Jun, but he was halfway to the bathrooms.
Project Gemini (Mission 2 Page 11
