by Bob Blanton
Matthew, Jessica and Mrs. Brandt went back to their house. As they went through the door into the living room, Mrs. Brandt pulled Matthew to her, tears welling up in her eyes. “I was so scared, but I’m so proud of you. You showed real courage going to Ari’s rescue.”
Jessica hugged Matthew’s leg, “I’m proud of you, too.”
“Thanks, Jessie,” Matthew ears were turning red, “I just did what needed to be done.”
“I know,” his mother tried to compose herself. “Let’s call your Uncle George. I think we’ll ask for a rain check, then we’ll go and get some lunch and maybe a movie. What do you think?”
“Can we go see Aladdin?” Jessica yelled.
“Why not?”
. . .
When they got back from lunch and the movie there were twenty messages on their answering machine. Several from neighbors expressing their gratitude that Matthew had saved the Maier boy. A few were from reporters wanting to interview Matthew and one from Mr. Maier.
“Hello, Matthew, I wanted to thank you for saving my little boy’s life,” Mr. Maier said. “My wife told me what you did. If there’s anything I can do for you, anything, please let me know. I can’t thank you enough. Thank God you were home and had the courage to come save Ari.” His voice was shaking with emotion. “And Margaret, bring over that insurance information. If I have time to golf while your son saves my boy’s life, I’ve got time to fight the insurance company for you. Again, I can’t thank you enough, please come by when you get in.”
“What do you want to do about the reporters, Matt?” Mrs. Brandt asked her son.
“Nothing, I don’t want everyone making such a big deal out of this. I want them to just leave me alone.”
“Well you’ll probably have to get used to saying ‘No Comment’ for a while if I know reporters. I’m surprised that we didn’t have one on our doorstep when we got home. Remember, if you say anything to them, they will find a way to use it.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Matthew said with confidence, “I’ll handle it.”
“I’ll call the Maiers and tell them we’ll come by tomorrow evening. I think everyone needs time to calm down after today.”
. . .
The next morning, as Matthew was heading over to the Winthrops’ for his tennis lesson, Jennifer flagged him down.
“Now what?” Matthew groaned under his breath.
“You sure were brave yesterday,” Jennifer’s voice was all gushy.
“Not really. You were the one that called 911.”
“Yeah, but if we’d had to wait for the police to come, Ari would be dead. You should have been here when Mr. Farley got home.”
“Was he mad?”
“He was really steamed about his dogs being dead. It was like he didn’t even care that they had almost killed poor Ari.”
“He’s always been weird.”
“He said he was going to sue you for killing them.”
Matthew rolled his eyes, “Great, that’s all we need.”
“Don’t worry. My dad said he would be so busy keeping himself out of jail and fighting off the Maier’s lawsuit that he wouldn’t have time to bother you.”
Jennifer’s words reassured Matthew; hopefully this wouldn’t add to his family’s problems.
“I hope so,” Matthew let his breath out. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it.
“Dad said he hoped Mr. Farley would have to sell his house to pay all the fines and lawsuit. That way we wouldn’t have to put up with him anymore. Nobody likes him anyway.”
“Thanks for the update Jen, but I’ve got to go.” Matthew started to peddle off on his bike.
“Okay, say hi to Brea for me.”
“Sure, if I see her,” Matthew replied.
“Oh, you’ll see her,” Jennifer said as she turned to go back inside her house.
. . .
When Matthew showed up at the Winthrops’, Brianna met him at the door.
“Hi, Matt,” Brianna’s voice sounded just like Jennifer’s had. “Jennifer told me how brave you were when you saved that little boy.”
“Hello, Brea, I just was at the right place at the right time. Where’s Jason?”
“He went to New York with Dad; he won’t be back until Tuesday night. Lucky for the kid you were there.”
“What’s going on in New York?” Matthew tried to ignore Brianna’s praise.
“Dad went out there to evaluate some new company they’re investing in. He asked Jason to go with him. He likes to get Jason involved with the company.”
“Sounds like fun, and he gets to skip out on a couple days of school, too.”
“Yeah, he wants you to take notes for him. Mom’s on the court already warming up so you better get down there.”
As Matthew made his way onto the tennis court, Mrs. Winthrop stopped her warm-up and turned to him. “That was pretty brave of you, running in to save that little boy the way you did yesterday. I understand that you didn’t even hesitate.”
“It was nothing; I just did what anyone else would have done. I wish Jennifer wouldn’t go blabbing it all over the place.” Matthew raised his palms in exasperation.
“I’m afraid she won’t have to. Apparently, a reporter interviewed her yesterday. Haven’t they interviewed you yet?”
“They called, but I’m not giving any interviews, I’m tired of having to talk about it.”
“I’m not sure you’ll have that choice; reporters can be pretty persistent.”
“I’m not talking.”
“Well good luck with that. Now are you ready to start your lesson?”
. . .
After the lesson, Brianna came down wearing her tennis outfit. “Are you ready to play a couple of sets?”
“I guess,” Matthew wondered what he should do.
“I asked Brea to work with you since Jason is out of town,” Mrs. Winthrop said. “I’ve got a luncheon to attend, and I don’t want you slacking off just as you’re getting good.” Mrs. Winthrop tapped Matthew on the back with her racquet, then she turned to gather up her things.
“You ready?” Brianna set up on her side of the court. “You serve first.”
“Okay, here it comes.” Matthew really laid into his serve.
They played two sets. Brianna won the first set 6-4, winning easily on her serve and breaking Matthew once on a tight game. Matthew won the second set 7-5, barely holding onto his serve and breaking Brianna when she double-faulted twice.
“Good game, Matt.” Brianna came to the net. “You’re really getting better.”
“Thanks, guess I got lucky.”
“It was more than luck. See I told you that you should play me instead of Jason, it’s more of a competition.”
“Thanks. It was fun not getting trounced for once. Jason plays with me like a cat does with a mouse. He lets me get close, then he pounces and just shakes me; then when he gets a little tired, he finishes me off.”
“He can be pretty mean. He likes to play with your head when you play him. He has more fun trying to rattle you than he does playing the game.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s it. But it’s still good practice for me.”
Brianna looked very nervous. “Are you going to the Winter Ball this year?”
“I’m not sure yet. Are you?”
“Nobody’s asked me yet.” Brianna tilted her head down and looked at Matthew through her eyelashes.
“Well I’m sure they’re all trying to work up enough nerve to ask you. I’m sure lots of guys are hoping to get you to go with them.”
“Do you think so?”
Matthew looked at his watch. “Hey, I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be at the Ranch Bistro in an hour to fix their computer. Bye, and thanks for the game.”
“Sure, see you at school.” Matthew quickly headed toward the side gate. “Jerk!” Brianna added under her breath and spun on her heel and ran back to grab her things.
. . .
When Matthew got home, a reporte
r was waiting for him in front of his house. She rushed up to him with her microphone, the cameraman filming from behind.
“Matt, how does it feel to be a hero?” she asked as she shoved the microphone into his face.
“I told you this morning that I didn’t want to be interviewed. Nothing’s changed, so please leave me alone.”
“Were you scared?” she asked.
“No comment,” Matthew retorted as he slid around her and went into the house. He went to his room to shower and change. Grabbing his computer, he made his way back outside to get his bike.
“Matthew, what did you think when you saw the little boy being attacked?” the reporter asked, pushing the microphone at him again.
“I’ve got to go, so please get out of my way.” Matthew had to push by the reporter to get to his bike. He got on and rode off.
. . .
That night the Channel 7 News had a story on Matthew. They showed Jennifer being interviewed by the woman reporter as she described what had happened. The reporter showed pictures of two pit bulls that looked like Mr. Farley’s dogs, but of course couldn’t have been since they were dead. They showed a short interview with the head master at PCA, where he said that Matthew was their top student, even though he was only a fourteen-year-old junior. Then it showed an interview with Matthew’s instructor at the Golden Dragon, Sifu Lee.
“Mr. Lee, tell us about Matt,” the reporter asked.
“Well Matthew is one of our top students,” Mr. Lee’s pride in Matthew was obvious. “He is one of our youngest black sashes; he’s very dedicated.”
“How does he know how to use a staff so well?”
“The staff is the first weapon we teach our students,” Mr. Lee explained. “It develops strength and quickness. Matthew knows both our Chow Sot Staff set and the Two Person Staff set.”
“That sounds impressive,” the reporter made her face look very serious.
“It is. Matthew and his partner won the gold medal for the Two Person Staff set at our tournament last year.”
“Do you teach your students to have courage?”
“Well we try, but that is something that comes from within,” Mr. Lee said. “Matthew has always been a courageous person. When he spars, he never backs down, no matter how big his opponent is.”
“So he’s an excellent fighter?”
“Yes he is. He’s won the gold medal for his weight class and age group at our tournament for the last two years. Many times in class, I match him up against an adult because he is so dominate against the other teenagers.”
“You mean against a full-grown man?” the reported asked, adding a little awe to her tone.
“Yes. We teach our students to fight using the opponent’s energy against them and to be quick and relaxed. With that knowledge, Matthew is able to win against even much larger and stronger opponents.”
Then they showed a couple of the students from the school sparring. Of course, Mr. Lee had two of the top students demonstrating, so it was quite impressive. Then the reporter showed an interview with Matthew.
“Matthew, how does it feel to be a hero?”
“Nothing’s changed.”
“Were you scared?” They showed her pushing the microphone into Matthew face.
“No.”
“What did you think when you saw the dogs attacking the little boy?”
“I’ve got to go,” came Matthew’s reply in an aggressive tone.
The reporter faced the camera, “There you have it, the story of an unassuming hero in our community. Without hesitation he risked his life to save a little boy from a vicious attack by two pit bull dogs. His neighbors all think he’s a hero, but Matt makes no pretenses, going about his life as if nothing’s changed.”
“That’s not what I said,” Matthew hollered as he turned to his mother. “That reporter just changed everything around.”
“Now you know why you’re supposed to say ‘no comment’ and nothing else when you don’t want to be interviewed,” his mother said. “Reporters take a lot of creative license when they edit their interviews.”
“They sure do.”
“Sometimes it’s more like photo storytelling instead of photojournalism,” Mrs. Brandt turned the TV off. “Next time you’ll know better.”
Match Play
At school on Monday most of the kids gave Matthew a thumbs-up sign as they all congratulated him on being a hero. Everyone had seen the story on the Channel 7 News. He got lots of smiles from the girls and a few slaps on the back from the guys on the football team.
At lunch Tyler walked up to him. “Hey Matt, why did you use a stick on those dogs,” he said. “Couldn’t you kill them with your bare hands?”
“I didn’t want to get bit.” “Geez can’t the guy leave me alone,” Matthew thought.
“There are a couple of obnoxious dogs on our street; do you want to come over and demonstrate your technique on them?”
“No Tyler, I don’t; but I would be willing to demonstrate on you.”
“No thanks. I guess I deserved that. That little boy sure was lucky you were there.” Tyler held out his hand for a low five.
Matthew and Tyler exchanged low fives. “I’m going to have to quit pestering you,” Tyler said. “I can’t afford to have you breaking my throwing arm. Nice to have a hero in the school, see you around, squirt.”
“See you.” Matthew was stunned; he had never expected Tyler to ever show him any respect.
Emily walked up, “Hey Matt, what did Tyler want?”
“Just to say hi, I guess, and congratulate me. I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Matthew shook his head.
“I bet it’s because he knows you’re not scared to fight back. He probably has more respect for you. That was a nice story they did on you last night.”
“I guess, but that reporter changed everything I said. I didn’t even give her an interview. She just rearranged what I said when I was telling her to leave me alone. Can you believe that?”
“My dad always says that when you’re around a reporter don’t open your mouth unless you’re willing to hear it on TV. They’re going to get a story one way or another.”
“That’s what my mother said, too; I guess I’ll learn. I hope I won’t have to talk to any reporters again.”
“Probably not, they’ve got as much as they can from the story. They’ll move on to something else now.”
“Good.”
“I came by to ask where Jason is. I haven’t seen him at school today.”
“Oh, he’s in New York with his dad. Didn’t Alex tell you; I assume she knows everything Jason does?”
“She was in San Francisco with her mom all weekend. They went up for her birthday and just got back this morning. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her.”
“Her birthday; did she get her license?”
“No, can you believe that ding bat didn’t get her permit on time? She won’t get her license until November.”
“I guess I can believe that of Alex,” Matthew said. “Me, I’m getting my permit six months to the day.”
“Alex isn’t good with numbers,” Emily giggled. “She’s really in a foul mood about it right now.”
“I’ll bet. Oh, are we still on for tennis on Thursday?” Matthew asked.
“Sure, that’s another reason I came by. I thought we could talk strategy.”
“Sure, but I was kind of hoping the strategy would be, I watch you hit the ball and serve every fourth game.”
“Don’t be silly. Now how good is Jason?”
“I’m not sure. He won the New York Junior championship two years ago, or so he tells me.”
“That’s serious tennis. Is his game still sharp?”
“He beats me soundly anytime he wants to. But I’ve only been playing for three months so that isn’t saying much. I’m sure you wouldn’t have any problem beating me either.”
“We’ll have to play at Alex, she’s their weak link.”
“Okay. Hey,
Jason tires easily, so if we keep him moving around, we’ll have a better chance in the later games.”
“Which is stronger, his backhand or his forehand?”
“I can’t tell. He can return to any spot on the court no matter which side I hit to. You should ask Brea, she definitely would know, and she’d probably like to see Jason get beat.”
“Good idea. A little sibling rivalry might help us out.”
The class bell rang.
“We’d better get to class.”
. . .
Matthew didn’t see Jason until Thursday morning at school. “Hey, I thought you were going to be back on Tuesday,” Matthew said. “Where were you yesterday?”
“Dad decided to make a side trip up to Boston to check out another company.” Jason put his hand around Matthew’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “So, how’s it feel to be a hero, my man?”
“Cut the hero stuff out.” Matthew pulled away from Jason’s hug. “I’ve had enough of it.”
“You won’t have to tell me twice. I prefer to be the receiver of attention not the giver, unless of course it’s to the ladies.”
“Are we still on for tonight?”
“Sure thing. Hey I heard you played Brea on Sunday. How was it?”
“Great, I even won the second set.” Matthew looked proud of himself.
“In your dreams!” Jason gave Matthew a sideways look. “You are kidding, aren’t you?”
“No seriously, she won the first set 6-4 and I won the second set 7-5. I must be getting pretty good, you think?”
“Look Matt, the only way you even won a game off Brea is if she let you. She’s nationally ranked in her age group.”
“Really?” was all Matthew could manage.
“Yes, I have to bring my A game to beat her, any lack of concentration or mistake and she makes me pay.”
“I didn’t know she played competitively.”
“Mom’s making her take the year off. She has a stress fracture in her foot and Mom refuses to take any chances. She doesn’t want Brea to develop a long-term problem. But man, she must really like you; she never throws a game, much less a set.”
