It's Halloween and as soon as we turned on the lights we had little, scary bodies showing up at our door. There's a little break now, so I decided to post the rest of the first chapter of my new story (still untitled). Here it is:
CHAPTER 1
Beth retreated and circled as
the six-foot-two, slimy looking stooge stalked her. When he lunged and grabbed for her neck she
deftly sidestepped, hammer fist punched him on the left side of his neck, and
delivered a knee to his throat.
Fortunately for the slime-ball, however, he was wearing protective
gear. He was unhurt.
The audience of a dozen women
(young and old) burst into applause and then showered Beth with
congratulations. The would be mugger
waited till the women parted from Beth, and then approached to shake her
hand. Beth eschewed the hand shake and
threw a heartfelt hug into his burly figure.
The instructor smiled widely as he embraced her.
"I never thought I would
get to this point. You've taught me so
much," Beth gushed.
"I've never had a student
pick up the attitude and techniques as fast as you have," Damien, the Krav
Maga instructor responded. "I hope
you're going to stick with it," he added with some concern to his voice.
"No need to worry about
that. You"re going to be seeing me
for a while."
A relieved grin appeared on
Damien's face as he hugged her again.
"Great! Then I'll see you on
Thursday. There's a lot more to learn,
and only part of it is physical. Krav
Maga demands a mental toughness and understanding that when you're attacked in
the real world it has absolutely nothing to do with practicing kicks on a heavy
bag."
"I know, Damien. I promise I'll be a good pupil".
Beth had found out about Krav
Maga a month following the death of her years long tormentor, Adrian Pope. Her near death experience and feelings of
helplessness when physically confronted by him had convinced her to attend some
sort of self-defense training. She had
vowed that she would never again let another human being gain dominion over
her.
The training took place in the
basement area of a downtown Rochester hotel.
She had read an article in the local newspaper describing it as an
Israeli form of martial arts. It had been
advertised as the only style of martial arts that applied to real world situations. Her first class instructor had begun by
lining all the participants at the front of the room and having them take a
bow. Then they had gone right into
jumping jacks alternated with push-ups and some basic blocks with a
partner. Abs and stretching work
followed. The tone of the warm-up had
been tough with the instructor yelling and appearing to want to break her
down. She had felt intimidated, but
didn't leave.
Each person had then been
assigned a partner and practiced palm-heal hits into pads. Her adrenalin had flowed fiercely. Attack scenarios came next. First they watched the instructor and her
assistant walk through frontal choking situations and how to escape. Partners then practiced with each other. The instructor and assistant came to each
pair and offered criticism and feedback.
The class ended with a repeat
of the beginning warm-ups. At the very
end of the class, the instructor stressed that Krav Maga was a martial arts
technique that involved Karate, Boxing, Muay Thai, Kickboxing, Jujitsu,
Wrestling, and Grappling. He repeated
that the focus would be on real-life situations and extremely efficient and
brutal counter-attacks.
He delved into the history of
the techniques. Beth learned that it
sprang from street-fighting skills developed by Imi Lichtenfeld, a
Hungarian-Israeli martial artist.
Lichtenfeld had used his training as a boxer and wrestler as a means of
defending the Jewish quarter against fascist groups in Bratislava during the mid-to-late
1930s. In the late 1940s he began to
provide lessons on combat training for what became known as the IDF (Israeli
Defense Forces). The IDF went on to
design the Krav Maga system. The
philosophy of the system emphasized threat neutralization, simultaneous
defensive and offensive maneuvers, and aggression.
Beth had felt a surge of
energy as she accomplished everything demanded of her the first day, and in
every training session thereafter. She
developed a strong sense of confidence in her physical and mental skills to the
point where Beth found herself reveling and even thriving in this new-found
environment.
After showering and dressing,
Beth took the stairs leading from the basement of the Mahler Hotel, passed
through the fancy lobby, and burst into a fast walk. She
emerged from the building and into darkness interrupted only by city
lights. she was filled with an intense
feeling of confidence and vigor. She
remembered that her cell phone had been on vibrate and switched it back
on. Within seconds it rang. She answered as she continued to swiftly walk
the streets on her way to the public parking ramp.
"Hello." Silence.
She repeated the greeting. Met by
silence again, she was about to chalk it up as a wrong number, when the voice
on the line made her stop.
"I have someone who wants
to talk to you," the familiar voice calmly stated. Mark's voice came on the line.
"Beth, they have
me!" A jumbled sound that reminded
her of an over-amped microphone being jostled around replaced Mark's
voice.
And then the familiar, initial
voice came back on the line and said her name, "Beth, you have something
that we want."
She knew this time might
come. She just didn't know it would
happen this soon. Beth didn't know what
to say so she remained silent for a few seconds.
"Are you still on the
line?" Cassandra asked.
"Yes," she managed
to say while her voice cracked.
"Good. You never know when you're going to lose cell
phone connections now days. We need to meet and sort this whole thing
out," Cassandra said amiably. She
continued. "We'll contact you
tomorrow when you're feeling a little less tired. We understand that you've had a
difficult evening of punching, kicking,
and yelling. Get a good nights
rest. You'll need it."
The line went dead. Beth slowly lowered the phone to her side
while blankly staring straight ahead.
She stood motionless for several seconds. Mark had said "they" have me. Cassandra had said, you have something
"we" want. Obviously, Mr. John
was with her. Beth knew what they
wanted. Money!
Unconsciously, she began
walking again, slowly at first, then rapidly until she was almost running. She reached her tan-colored Ford Focus
within five minutes. Grasping her keys from
her purse, she fumbled and dropped them.
Nervously, and with a sense of desperation, she grabbed for the keys and
pushed them under the car.
"Chill," she told
herself as she stood without picking the keys up. Thirty seconds passed before her breathing
had returned to normal. Her eyes scanned
the parking-ramp before getting on her hands and knees to retrieve her car
keys. Standing again, she turned the key
in the lock and opened the door. Beth
settled comfortably onto the cloth seat and started the engine. She began mentally preparing herself for the
fight she knew would come.
