Hard Job

by Jeffery Craig

  He’d been fighting a losing battle for the last few minutes, and he knew it. He’d had tried to protect his head and face and at the same time, keep his focus on the man in front of him. The stick came flying again and narrowly missed his temple. To avoid the flying foot that followed, Toby dropped to the ground and rolled. The man was on him in a flash and Toby knew he had to get up and put more distance between them. “I could use some help here!” he yelled, hoping Melba was ready to step in. At this point, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he needed help.

  To his relief, she was ready. She launched herself into the fray with fists flying. He heard her give a blood-curdling yell as she attacked the man from behind. The attacker turned like lightning and with two jabs had her back on the floor. Quicker than he believed possible, the man was in his face again and Toby knew his fate was sealed. “Think, Toby! What are you supposed to do in situations like this?” He knew he needed to focus, but was having difficulty just staying out of the man’s reach. “Think!” he commanded himself again. There had to be something he could do. He took a quick look around the room, hoping to spot something he could use to defend himself. There were a couple of possible weapons but he had to figure out how to get to them. Before he could come up with a plan, the stick struck him hard across the left shoulder. Toby barely kept from crying out in surprised pain. He knew he only had one option left. “When it’s time for a last stand and you’re almost out of gas, focus and then give it everything you’ve got. And remember – fight dirty.” He took one more breath, then narrowed his eyes and went on the offensive. He barreled his way into the man’s space and dropped to the ground. He kicked out with one leg and made contact. The man stumbled for a minute and taking advantage of the unexpected opening, Toby levered himself up and punched him in the back of the knee. The man grunted in surprise and dropped to one knee.

  Toby felt a surge of elation. “Take that, asshole!” he shouted. He punched his fist into the back of the other knee and moved to the side as the man went down. “I think I’ve got him now!” He felt a thrill of excitement and thought maybe he’d survive after all. He started to stand while the attacker was still on the floor, but lost his balance when he stepped in a few drops of blood. The man jerked up and swept a foot in front of him, catching the back of Toby’s ankle. He stumbled and tried to regain his footing. He started to panic and looked away for a moment trying to see where Melba was. He never saw the fist that laid him out cold. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was thinking he forgot to protect his head. Again. Jon Chiang was going to be so pissed-off about this.

  Chapter One

  He blinked in the light and tried to lift his head.

  “Can’t you just stay down?!” The exasperated voice of his instructor rang in his ear. Everything hurt. With a groan, he laid his head back down and closed his eyes. He wasn’t ready for the inevitable lecture just yet.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Leave it to Melba to ask the obvious question.

  Toby opened one eye and caught a glimpse of his partner. She didn’t look too good herself. Her curly hair was tangled and matted with sweat and her white gi needed to make a trip to the washing machine in the very near future. He grimaced and decided that his probably wasn’t in any better shape. To make matters worse, she was on her feet and he was on the floor. Plus, he was bleeding and as far as he could tell, she wasn’t. Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair. He shut the eye quickly when she moved a little closer. He didn’t have the energy for any of her fussing. Monday mornings were bad enough without that. Besides, it would be more fun to listen to what they said when they thought he was out of it.

  “He’ll be fine. It’d take more than a little whack on the head to do him any real damage.”

  “Yeah, he’s pretty hard headed.”

  “You’re telling me? His skull cracked the stick on one end. I didn’t even think that could happen in a sparring lesson, and this is the second time he’s done it. I need to charge more for this.”

  Reightman gave him a snort. “Since this is the second time, you probably should add it to the bill. But then again, since the lessons are courtesy of your great-aunt, you’d have to take it up with her.”

  “It’d take a braver man than me to broach the subject with her. She’d just tell me I needed to be more careful and remind me to take better care of my toys.”

  Toby heard the sound of rustling cloth as someone knelt down beside him. He felt a rough palm on his forehead and knew it belonged to Jon. He suppressed a shiver as the strong hand felt the front of his skull and worked its way over the top of his head to the back. “There’s no blood from anywhere other than the split lip, and other than a little goose egg, there’s no swelling. I don’t think he has a concussion.”

  “Then why hasn’t he woken up? Do you think we should call someone to make sure?” Toby almost grinned at the sisterly concern in her voice, but managed to keep his expression under control. If she found out he was faking, he’d be in for a world of hurt.

  “Let’s see if he comes to in the next few minutes. If not, we’ll call the EMS. Why don’t you check with Auntie and see if she can make up a cold compress. It might help – if the ice can penetrate his thick skull.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back. I’ll get one for his lip too. It’s still bleeding.”

  Toby heard Melba head toward the door that connected Green Dragon, the herb and tea shop, to the martial arts studio, He recognized the sound of the door opening and closing. After a minute, Jon removed his hand. “You can open your eyes. I know you’re awake and listening to everything we’ve said for the last few minutes.”

  “Have not.”

  “Yes, you have. Now open your eyes so I can check out your pupils.”

  Toby reluctantly opened his eyes and looked up at the man leaning over him. Jon’s gray eyes were calm, although there was a tight set to his smooth jaw.

  He gently opened Toby’s lid wider and peered into one pale blue eye. Toby could feel the man’s gentle breath across his check as the man leaned closer. He did the same to Toby’s other eye and then sat back on his haunches. “You’ll live to fight another day.” He gave him a considering glance and then held out a hand. “Let’s see if you can sit up.”

  Toby held out one hand and let Jon pull him up into a sitting position, groaning at the stiffness in his neck and back. It wasn’t even noon and he felt like he’d been put through the wringer. He touched his lip and discovered that it was still bleeding and was also puffy. He felt his left shoulder and could tell he was going to have a nice bruise. “I…I hate fightin’ againth da’ stick!” He couldn’t quite form the words since his swollen lip was getting in the way and it hurt to talk. “How come you geth to be de one to whack usth around all de time?”

  “I get to whack you around because I’m trying to teach you to defend yourself against anything I can think of. It’s not too farfetched to imagine someone might come at you with a shovel or a broom, or even a broken tree branch.”

  “Yeth, but dey wouldn’th be twained de way you arh.”

  “You never know how well someone is trained or how skilled they are until the fight is on. Then it’s too late. It’s better to be prepared.” Jon stood and reached out his hand again.

  Toby grasped it and used the leverage to pull himself to his feet. He was a little unsteady and he felt a headache coming on. “You weally goth me goo dat time.”

  “That’s because you forgot to protect your head.”

  Toby mumbled something under his breath but stopped when he caught sight of Jon’s arched eyebrow. “You we wight. I justh can’th seem to geth the hang of this stuff.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. We just started training a few months ago. You do pretty well with the physical aspect, but you don’t think things through and get over confident. The only time to be confident is when your opponent is totally vanquished and you are absolutely certain that he won’t get up again. If I’ve told you that once, I’ve told you a million ti
mes!” Jon gave a resigned sigh and then added, “But you’ve made better progress than I expected. You’re fast and have good coordination. You just forget to focus.”

  “I hardry ever geth a hith in!”

  “Toby, you have very unrealistic expectations. I’ve been practicing the martial arts since I was a little boy so I have about thirty years of experience you don’t have. Realistically, you should be pleased you ever get a hit in.” Jon gave him a small smirk. “And today you did very well. The punch to the back of the knee was a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to try something like that this early in training, and it worked. It would have given you time to get in another shot – or better yet – get away if this had been a real fight.”

  “Yeth, I know. But somehow wunning away doesn’t theem like de besth thing to do.”

  Jon’s gray eyes shadowed for a minute and he looked away, gazing off into space as if watching something only he could see. “Toby, there are times when running away is the not only the best option, but the only option. Especially when the odds are against you and there’s no way you can win. You need to recognize when that’s the case. You’d better start learning that lesson now.”

  Before Toby could respond, the door opened and Melba hurried through, followed closely by Madame Zhou. Reightman was carrying what Toby assumed was an ice pack and a couple of towels. Her hair was still a mess and Toby would have made a smart-ass comment if he hadn’t noticed the concern in her eyes. And if his lip and head didn’t hurt so much.

  Madame Zhou was completely unruffled by the situation and this wasn’t the first time she’d been called on for help. The tiny old woman was wearing her gardening cloths and looked about as disreputable as Melba. The tattered green tunic had seen better days, as had the large, brimmed straw hat. She must have been puttering around out on her terrace, getting her pots and planters ready for spring. He grimaced when he noticed she held a steaming cup of something in her hands. He was getting used to her brews and potions, but wondered why they always had to taste so bad. He knew better than to ask.

  He glanced over at Jon, and saw that he was standing up straight and quickly tidying his appearance. His great-aunt Zhou had that effect on him. Toby had noticed early on that whenever Jon Chiang was in her presence he was much more formal and polite than normal. He even gave her a tiny, but respectful bow.

  “Let me see that bump.”

  Toby started to object, but Reightman’s tone caused him to reconsider. When she used that voice it was better just to go along with what she said. He obediently bent his neck so she could check out the small knot on the top of his head. Since she stood only about five foot four in contrast to his own height of nearly six feet, he had to bend down a considerable distance.

  She quickly finished her none-to-gentle inspection, and brushed few damp strands of hair off his forehead. She handed him the ice pack.” Put that on the sore spot and keep it there until I tell you to take it off.” She handed him a smaller pack. “And hold this one on your lip.”

  He knew he’d better just do as she said, although he felt like a fool holding one ice pack to his head and another to his mouth while they all examined him. He probably looked like some sort of ‘see no evil – speak no evil’ monkey.

  Madame Zhou stepped forward and thrust out the mug. “Toby, drink this down. It will help with the headache I am sure you are experiencing.” Her tone was much milder than Reighman’s, but once again he knew better than to argue. He took a swallow, grimacing at the bitter taste. He started to lower the mug, but caught the glint in Zhou’s eyes. Resigned to his fate and determined to get it over with, he tilted the mug and finished off the nasty brew. He dribbled a little out the side of his mouth because his swollen lip got in the way.

  “Tanks, Madame Thou. I’m thure ith will help.” It never hurt to be polite, even if he sounded like an idiot.

  “You’re welcome, Toby. Now, if things are under control here, I need to finish my gardening. I assume we will still meet for lunch.”

  Toby inwardly groaned. The last thing he wanted was food, but her comment had not really been a question. “I guessth tho, but I’m noth weally vewy hungwy.”

  “Give the tea time to work. By the time you have finished with your much needed shower and are presentable, I think you will find your appetite will have returned. Although, you might have to ask Bernice to prepare one of her delicious smoothies for your lunch, given the current state of your lip.” Madame Zhou held out her tiny hand for the mug, and when Toby gladly relinquished it, she checked to make sure he’d finished every drop. She gave him an approving nod and turned and went back through the door to her shop.

  Toby repositioned the ice pack and rolled his left shoulder to try and ease the stiffness. “I tink I’ll head upstairs and sower.”

  “Not yet, you won’t. The shower can wait for a few more minutes. First we’re going to talk about what went wrong this morning and I want you both to give me a couple of ideas of how you might’ve handled things differently.”

  This time it was Melba who groaned. However, she’d also learned not to argue with their instructor. He had ways of making it unpleasant if they didn’t give him the respect he felt was his due during class. And this technically was a class. “We weren’t expecting an attack when we walked in and weren’t paying attention to our surroundings. That was our biggest mistake.”

  Jon nodded and turned to Toby. “And?”

  “And, I losth my focus and wath unable to concentwate on whath I needed to do to defend usth.”

  “And?”

  Toby sighed. “And I didn’ keeth my eye on you de entie time. I wasth wowwied abou’ Melba.”

  Jon pursued his lips as he considered the answer. “I commend you for your concern. It is not a bad thing to be aware of your partner’s situation. However, you need to assume that they can either take care of themselves or the situation is worse than you anticipated. If you don’t protect yourself, you’ll be unable to help them.” He raised his eyebrow and waited, while pointedly looking at the ice pack.

  “And, I fogoth to pwotect my head.” Toby hoped they were done with this part of the Q & A.

  “Yes, you did forget to protect your head. Again.” Satisfied that he’d made his point, Jon turned to Reightman. “What will you do next time you are in a similar situation?”

  “I’ll take a good look around to make sure I know what I’m walking into,” she answered. “I should have known better – I do know better. I had that drummed into my head as a rookie cop. I just wasn’t expecting to be attacked when I entered the studio my regular lesson. That was sneaky, Jon Chiang!”

  “Yes, it was,” he agreed. “I’ve been planning it for a couple of days. I wanted to see how you’d both react so I’d know how you were progressing with this little training program.” He turned to Toby and arched his brow again. “What else could you have done?”

  Toby thought it over before responding. Now that the heat of the moment was over, he thought he had a good idea of how things could have been handled better. “Once we wealized whath wasth happening we kind of…sepawated and I guess we wost focused on pwotecting ourselthes. Instead, we should have given ith evewything we had and done our besth to beath you to a pulp. When we focused on ouwselves, we losth our edge and the advanthage we would have had.”

  Jon considered the answer and gave a tight nod. “That may have made a difference with a normal attacker. I’ll see what I can do to create another few surprises so you can test out that hypothesis. We’ll see if you’re correct in your thinking.” He gave them an evil grin. “I’ll enjoy planning that scenario.”

  Melba glanced at Toby and glared when she saw he’d removed the ice pack. “I said to keep that on until I told you to take it off!” When he hurriedly replaced it, she rolled her eyes before turning back to Jon. “We should have also determined if there as anything we could have used as a weapon.”

  “Such as?”

  She took a minute to look around the room. T
here wasn’t much in the spare, clean space but there were a couple of possibilities. “Well, there is one chair in the corner and another set of fighting sticks hanging over there on the wall. There is also some of that resin powder in the box by the door.”

  “How would dat have hepped?” Toby asked, curious to hear the answer.

  “Well, if one of us had picked it up and thrown it in his face, it would have distracted him and would have probably burned if any got in his eyes.”

  “Yes, it would have,” Jon agreed. “There is still another choice of weapons you haven’t mentioned.”

  They both looked around the room, but neither of the spotted anything else. “What?” Toby asked.

  Jon simply grinned and shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you. You’ll need to figure it out for yourselves.” He ignored their disgusted looks and added, “We’ll meet here again in the morning.”

  “Awe we going to wowk on sticth fighting some more?”

  “No, Toby. No stick fighting tomorrow. We’re going to work on meditation.”

  “Meditwathon?”

  “Yes. I realized this morning that I’ve neglected an important part of the process. As my first teacher told me any times, it is as important to train the internal as it is to train the external.”

  “You’we gwoing to teach us to meditwait?”

  “No. Tomorrow you will have another instructor.” He refused to tell whom that would be and, instead, turned away and headed toward the back door of the studio. “Now it’s time to shower and make ourselves presentable for lunch. We just have a short while before we need to meet Auntie, and she would disapprove if any of us were late.”

  Since they all knew Madame Zhou felt that punctuality was one of the ultimate forms of courtesy, they agreed. Melba headed to the back changing rooms and Toby went out the front door and headed to the stairwell that lead up to his third floor apartment. As he undressed and tossed the filthy and blood spotted gi on the floor he had a thought. He looked at the clothes where they lay, and decided he had an idea of what possible weapon Jon had been thinking of. He just had to find the right opportunity to test his theory. He turned on the shower and when the water was hot, he stepped into the stall and under the spray. If he picked exactly the right moment, this could be fun. After he finished and had dried off, he stepped up to the mirror and took a good look. He touched his swollen lip. The bleeding had stopped but it was still swollen and probably would be for a while. He might have to wait until he healed a little before he enacted the scenario he had planned. Jon Chiang would never know what hit him.