The Life We Lead: Ascending

by George Nagle

  “Your dad says it’s the boom pin for the bucket,” she continued.

  “Oh, it’s in the truck box on the left hand side in the middle shelf. Or it was the last time I saw it. If he ‘reorganized’ again, then I have no idea,” James said. He added, “‘The thing your dad uses outside on his thing,’ really? That was the best description you could give me?”

  “Shut up,” his mom said before hollering, “Check the middle shelf on the left; he said in the box!” James assumed she was yelling to his dad,

  “And now both my ears are bleeding,” James complained. “So much for being able to hear the rest of the day. You know the phone is cordless, you could have walked over and told him instead of yelling it.” James rubbed his ear again.

  “Very funny. What time do you think you’ll be home?” his mom asked.

  James smirked and said, “I should go, as I can’t hear anymore if you are saying anything. Just sounds like the ocean in my ears.”

  “What do you mean ‘like the ocean’? If you were deaf, you wouldn’t hear anything, smarty. I thought you studied the body in school.”

  “What?” said James, letting out a little laugh.

  “Don’t be cute.” Her tone was changing quickly to annoyance.

  James decided not to push his luck. “Around 8, but I can help tomorrow with whatever.”

  “Good, I have an appointment in the morning to see the doctor about my stomach; you can watch the kids,” she said.

  ***

  They said their goodbyes, and James put the phone back in the locker and left the locker room.

  The training session had apparently ended. The only people on the floor were Sharon and Amber.

  Amber was the tall, extremely athletic instructor. James particularly liked her smile, but usually she was smiling when kicking some butt, so it meant pain if you saw it.

  Sharon was a bit shorter and an expert at being accepted into groups quickly. She could get people to talk and gossip like no other. She herself was a gossip and had a very sassy manner at times. She also had a true desire to do better in life. James suspected her desires and ambitions weren’t in line, as she didn’t stick with too many things very long. Her new thing was trying to be a better fighter physically because, as she said, “I can already fight with my mouth.”

  “Hey, ladies,” James called out with a wave.

  “Hey,” they chorused back.

  “I’m getting better at fighting, James. You’re going to be next,” Sharon said.

  Amber immediately jumped on board. “That’s a great idea. James, spar her.”

  James shrugged and walked over.

  Sharon protested. “Now? We just did all that stuff for, like, an hour. I’m beat and just want to crash.”

  “You’d better get ready or you’re going to get beat,” James shot back, smiling.

  “I already have my gloves off,” she said, holding up her taped hands.

  James smiled. “I’m well warned—here we go.”

  Sharon narrowed her eyes and scoffed. James noted that her right eyelid closed more than her left, meaning she was left eye dominant. He recalled from earlier interactions that she was right handed. He plotted a southpaw attack a few moves in with some quick foot switches, knowing she wouldn’t be able to respond in time.

  Sure enough, within fifteen seconds James was very gently controlling each strike with ease.

  Sharon puffed a little as she said, “This isn’t fair. I’m tired, and he’s faster and stronger and better.”

  “Excuses are like assholes. Everyone has one and they all stink,” Amber shrugged.

  Sharon rolled her eyes, and Amber went on, “You think in a fight anyone cares? Deal with it or don’t fight, but you never know when a fight is coming to you, so you’d better be ready. Now fight!” Amber was no-nonsense.

  Sharon lunged at James, who honestly wasn’t expecting it. He quickly sidestepped her and delivered an upper cut to her lower ribs and two jabs to the head. He didn’t hit her hard and she had on equipment, but she was still enraged. When she came back in, she was throwing everything she had and in poor form. James sharply maneuvered her into a bind.

  “Don’t swing like you have a hammer in your hand when you punch.” James released her as he spoke. “Create a tight fist and hit with these two knuckles.”

  He grabbed her hand and balled it into a fist before pointing to the index and middle knuckles. “When you punch, do it from the shoulder and have hip rotation in it. The fist is the delivery, but the punch comes from the shoulder. To move the shoulder, move the hip.”

  Amber nodded.

  James and Sharon sparred three more minutes. He let her get in a lot of body shots, encouraging her to hit him as hard as she could. There was a lot of be said for actually learning what it felt like to hit someone. She couldn’t go anymore after that, but Amber was ready.

  With Amber, James was going to have his hands full. He was skilled, but Amber was a true martial artist. She had the speed and power to clean his clock, but he also knew that if he kept the fight in tight, he would eliminate half her offense with her feet.

  They sparred. Amber came out aggressively, as she always did. James stayed on his feet and moved in semi-circles, trying to get in, but her feet kept him at bay. They went at it about ninety seconds. Amber was kicking butt, but James was finally able to move in as she threw a back leg turning kick. He pulled his punch, but it landed true as he left blocked her right leg kick. She went down.

  “Oh!” Sharon called as Amber’s leg swept James.

  He stumbled. She didn’t get it off clean, but it was enough to get him to back off while she got up.

  Amber smiled. Quicker than a snap of the fingers, she was on him and had leg-scissor-kicked him, taking him down.

  Wham!

  He hit the floor, where he took a heel kick to the thigh.

  “It was fun to get to use that,” Amber said, smiling.

  “You kicked butt!” Sharon said.

  James, still on the ground, rolled his eyes.

  “You fight so well with your hands; you need to get some legs in there, James,” Amber commented, extending a hand to pull him off the mat.

  “I won’t ever have your legs,” James said, gaining his feet.

  “If you worked at it, maybe you could have my legs under you faster than you imagine,” Amber said.

  James’s eyebrows went up, and Sharon giggled.

  Amber rolled her eyes and said, “Get your minds out of the gutter, ya pervs,” which just made them laugh harder.

  Tariq walked out of the weight area as she added, “In a fight, you would take me. I know in sparring you’re pulling the power instead of giving it to me.”

  “Can’t even handle a woman, eh James? Maybe I should teach you how to really handle women right,” said Tariq with a smirk.

  “You can’t even handle your hair, let alone a woman. Come back another time, little boy,” Amber shot at him.

  He ignored her. “What about it, James?” he asked.

  James looked at him. “You going to teach me the finer points of punching? I seem to recall us going through this exercise before and you on the ground.”

  “That was bullshit, and you know it. I bet I can throw a better controlled punch than you. Amber here can be the judge. What do you say?” Tariq asked with a swagger to his motions.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “A walk-up punch to the nose. The one that does it fastest without actually hitting the other one wins. The forward motion will make it harder to control,” Tariq said.

  “Oh, that’s so dumb,” Sharon said.

  “Okay, you can go first,” James said quickly.

  Sharon threw her hands up dramatically and sighed. “Men.”

  Amber stood to the side as Tariq took about six steps back.

  James stood waiting.

  “Don’t be a little bitch and flinch or close your eyes,” Tariq laughed.

  No one else did.
>
  A split second later, Tariq threw his punch. It was very fast and had power to it and stopped a hair from James’s nose. James blinked, but that was the extent of his moving.

  “My turn,” James said as Tariq took his prior position. “Ready?”

  “Born ready,” Tariq said.

  Amber rolled her eyes. “What a douche.”

  James laughed. “Right.”

  Instead of punching toward the nose, James deliberately hit Tariq square in the forehead, and he went down.

  Sharon and Amber roared with laughter as Tariq lay there, grabbing his forehead with both hands.

  “Looks like you win, Tariq,” James said, attempting to restrain a smile.

  Tariq was mad. “What the hell, man? You gotta hit when a man isn’t ready for it? That is a total bitch move.” He swung at James, who ducked under it and punched him square in the armpit. Besides hurting a lot, a punch to that spot makes the arm nub for a few moments.

  Tariq let out a gasp of pain.

  James commented with a slightly bitter undertone, “You can thank my older brother for that trick, and the armpit punch.”

  “Looks like you’re the bitch, now,” Amber said in a serious tone. “Best stop while you can and while I’m inclined to let this situation go unreported.”

  James nodded and Tariq got up, stomping off with a “Whatever!”

  “Hey, didn’t he sucker punch you a few weeks ago?” asked Sharon.

  “Indeed he did,” James said.

  “Nothing like the stove calling the pot black,” Sharon said.

  “Kettle,” James corrected her.

  “Huh?” Sharon looked at him.

  “Never mind,” James said, as she had the saying wrong.

  The women left, and James worked the bags for about thirty minutes. He considered Amber’s point about kicking and decided that once he was in Pittsburgh, he’d learn some taekwondo. Besides being fun, it would offer a ready made excuse for bruises.

  ***

  That night, though it was good to be home, he didn’t sleep well, as his schedule was still slightly off. Morning came quickly, but his mom had taken the two younger kids over to an aunt’s, instead of waking him, and then had gone to the doctor for a check up, so the house was quiet. That is, until his dad got home.

  “James, get up!” his dad barked at him. “Can’t lie there crushing that bed all day!”

  James’s eyes reluctantly opened. He was still tired and a bit surprised he hadn’t heard his dad’s truck coming up the lane.

  “Yeah, okay,” was all he replied.

  His dad ran a salvage yard. He was a simple man who tended to be hard to read. He could be overly blunt and short with people, though not on purpose. He saw the world one way and believed any variation to that was just wrong. Often, he seemed abrasive and inconsiderate, and his drinking didn’t help.

  Though James was a few inches taller than his dad, his old man was still average sized with a lean build for his age. He tended to wear his hair on the long side, and because of that, James had grown up with hair longer than he liked.

  James used to joke that when his dad came back from getting a haircut, it was still longer than James would ever let his grow.

  “That’s because you don’t know how to work. Out in the sun all day, you want your hair just like mine. Keeps the sun off your ears and neck and protects you from bug bites,” his dad once told him.

  “What about the winter, when the bugs are dead and the sun is nowhere to be seen?” James had fired back.

  His mom heard the exchange and promptly smacked him as his dad answered, “Keeps you warm, dummy. Geez, and you’re supposed to be smart.”

  James had decided to cut his losses and not reply.

  Turned out the help his dad needed wasn’t so bad; he just needed assistance with the tractor and hooking and unhooking chains. Small things that just went a lot faster with help. As they moved along, James walking beside the bucket with one hand on a tree to stop it from swinging, he got a call from Carissa.

  “Hey Risa, how’s you?”

  “Good. What is all that noise?” she said.

  “It’s a pay loader. Listen, can I call you back later?”

  “Well, I called tae let you know I won’t have my phone for a few days, but will be thinking of you and will call again as soon as I can. It’s for a team thing with the bank. I have to do it as part of the program and promotion then, you know,” she said.

  “Aye, right, then. Well, we’ll talk soon then. Looking forward to it,” James said a little louder to make sure she could hear him over the tractor.

  “Brilliant, bye, love,” Carissa said.

  “Bye,” James said.

  A minute later, when they were unloading the tree, his dad called out, “Who is Risa?”

  James paused. Normally his dad was half deaf due to all of the loud noises he dealt with day in and day out. He typically had the TV so loud you could hear it anywhere in the house.

  “I said ‘sister,’” James said without looking up.

  “Oh,” his dad replied. “Why were you talking like you were British or something?”

  James thought, “Don’t let the Scots or Brits hear you say that,” but only said, “Just keeping it interesting.”

  James glanced up to see his dad shake his head. Predictably, his father went into a lecture about how not being normal was bad if you wanted to be successful because people wouldn’t relate to you. This wasn’t the first time James had gotten this lecture and it wouldn’t be the last. It did end differently this time, though.

  “James, your mother and I are worried about you going to Pittsburgh and all. We’re proud of you graduating from college. Not many in the family have done that. But working for others in an office and all, just hard to understand. We want the best for you.”

  “I know, Dad, but you guys need to trust that I know what I’m doing.” James spoke with the right inflection to let his dad understand that he was listening and appreciative, but James had thought this through.

  “I sure hope so. I know you got them loans and stuff. Don’t agree with all that debt, but it’s your problem to solve. You need to get out of it as fast as you can ...” The lecture that followed took a solid five minutes.

  Recognizing when you are five years old that you are more intelligent than your parents makes for a difficult childhood. He also understood the distinction between knowledge and intelligence. James’s parents simply had difficulty thinking beyond their everyday lives. It was part of the reason he didn’t care to spend too much time at home, as life there was way too slow for his taste. It did, however, teach him patience and how to operate silently from the shadows.

  ***

  Back at group headquarters very early the next morning, James managed to get through the file on Anthony Spara.

  It was all there. The family tree, the structure of the organization up to about five years prior, the distribution chain, the location of the fields, the cargo ships, the names of the partners needed for the operation in foreign countries. It even mentioned Spara’s sister’s late term apparent miscarriage. This was enough information to not only indict Anthony Spara, but about fifty other people in multiple countries.

  James glanced again at a letter he’d found in the file. It had been stuck between pages seven and eight, and he had a feeling it wasn’t supposed to have been there. The note was from Yan’s father, Qiang, and written in English:

  “My son Yan, I am very proud of you. As I join my fathers in the eternal life, I know that you will bring my spirit honor, as I was not able to do before leaving you. You have been critical in keeping up on what the enemy has been doing these last few years, and that will be of much use in destroying them. Remember the lessons from Tzu Sun and do not let them see you acting. Use another that is equally injured and control them as we have gone over many times. Below is information for your eyes only and I trust you will find it most advantageous.

  You know, of course, that
Joe is the disgrace of my father’s daughter and a bastard to the family. His father is Anthony Spara. Spara does not know of the boy’s birth. He will value this and you can use this as leverage if things become out of control and linked to the family. Your aunt was very drunk the night she lay with Spara and does not remember who the father is. I know, as I caught them. But at the time, he was my business partner, so I could sacrifice her virginity for the business. I know your mother always questioned why I would not let the bastard join the others for training or auction. She thought it weakness for my sister. It was not. In fact, I could have sold him several times and refused very good offers, but in business you must make decisions to guard the future.

  When things fall for Spara, stay out of the way. Do not get involved directly or indirectly. The fallout will be very large and widespread. It could take three to four years to settle, as the world will have a vacuum of power. I have made preparations to safeguard the family, so keep things as they are for the external world, but vigorously maintain internal protections. I know that you will, as you designed many of them, and for the greatest one’s surrounding protection. I am very proud of your genius. When it is clear that dominance has been established, you will still be able to reenter the market. Your mother remembers all the details from the fields. You must sit with her and map it out in case she passes too. You have the key with X marking the spots.”

  The letter was simply signed “Father.”

  James was curious about the steps Qiang had taken to maintain internal protections. Once the fortress was gone, no one would actually miss the Tans or be alerted that anything was wrong until their clients could no longer reach them. But did the internal protections mean the cameras, or the very high tech computer system? He needed to learn more about Yan Tan to see what that was all about. The system, though impressive, wasn’t genius. It just required the right set up, as all the material was available on the market.