Karate Kick Page 2

  “Told you so!” Marty whispered. “Way to go, buddy!”

  “Thanks,” Cole replied. “I’m really psyched!”

  He was, too. And yet, deep down inside, a worm of doubt wriggled in his gut. What if he made stupid mistakes, like the ones he’d made in class today, during the test? Such mistakes might have been overlooked when he was younger and less experienced. But now? He wasn’t so sure his instructors would move him up if he made them.

  Sensei Joe interrupted his thoughts. “Okay, everybody, one last question: What’s the most important rule in karate?”

  It was the same question he asked at the end of every class. The students all knew the answer by heart.

  “Never use karate on anybody else unless absolutely necessary!” they responded in unison.

  “Exactly!” he said. “You are free to go. If you want to take part in the contest, grab an entry form from my office.”

  5

  Cole and Marty both took contest papers. Cole looked his over as he made his way to the wall of cubbies to collect his socks, shoes, jacket, and gear bag.

  “Hey, Marty,” he said, “it says here that we can help each other out with the katas. Offer advice, suggestions, that sort of thing. You want to get together tomorrow afternoon and do that?”

  Marty nodded. “Sounds good to me. And congrats on your green belt test invite! When’s the test, anyway?”

  Cole consulted his invitation paper. “Sunday morning, before the contest,” he said. He blew out a long breath. Today was Monday; that gave him less than a week to prepare and to make up a kata if he entered the contest. “I just hope I’m ready for the test.”

  “Ah, you are,” Marty reassured him. “But if there’s anything you want to practice outside of class, I’ll help you.”

  Cole grinned. “Really?” he said as he put his jacket on.

  Marty shrugged. “Sure! In fact, when we get together to work on the kata contest stuff, we can go over your test material, too.”

  “Thanks, Marty. Even just one extra practice session would really help.” He folded his test paper into the contest form and stuck both into his jacket pocket. Then he waited for Marty to finish gathering his belongings so they could walk out together.

  Honk, honk! A car pulled into the dojo’s parking lot just as they stepped out the door.

  “There’s my dad,” Marty said. “You need a ride today?”

  Cole shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay, I’m going to walk home on the bike path. See you later!”

  “Not if I see you first!” Marty returned as he climbed into the backseat of the car.

  Cole laughed and then started walking home.

  The bike path had once been railroad tracks. But the trains that used to come through their town had stopped their runs long ago. So the town transformed the tracks into a smooth paved trail that led through wooded areas, past businesses, and behind people’s houses.

  Both Cole and Marty’s houses were on the trail, as was the dojo. Last year, Cole had asked his mother if he could sometimes ride his bike to Marty’s house or walk home from karate.

  “It’s only two miles from the dojo,” he’d pointed out, “and just four from Marty’s house. I won’t be on busy streets. It’ll save you gas, too,” he’d added persuasively when she hesitated. “Oh, and think of the exercise I’ll get!”

  She had finally agreed, on one condition. “Come straight home,” she’d warned. “Otherwise, I’ll be a nervous wreck!”

  Cole had laughed off her nervousness. “Mom, nothing’s going to happen to me!”

  He’d almost added that he knew how to protect himself with karate if someone bothered him. But he decided not to plant that idea in her head; he didn’t want to give her any reason to change her mind!

  Sometimes, especially on warm summer mornings, the path was crowded with bikers, in-line skaters, joggers, and walkers. But now it was late in the afternoon, cool and cloudy, and the path was deserted.

  A stiff breeze rustled the leaves of the trees around him. He shifted his bag of karate equipment higher up on his shoulder and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket. His fingers touched the papers he’d put in one. He drew out the contest form and, slowing his pace, began to read through the rules.

  CREATE-YOUR-OWN-KATA CONTEST!

  The contest is open to all belt levels. Students may help one another if they wish. Each kata should be no less than twelve moves and have at least three strikes, three kicks, and three blocks.

  Strikes: punches, elbows, shutos, palm-heel, spear hand, ridgehand, back fist

  Kicks: front snap, side thrust, back, spinning back, roundhouse, knee

  Blocks: downward, upward, palm, inward, outward, circular outward

  Stances: cat, front, back, and horse

  Be sure to use proper stances, change direction, include transition moves—and have fun!

  Cole finished reading, folded the paper, and put it back in his pocket. Suddenly, a blur of movement caught his eye. Then he heard a loud cry:

  “Look out!”

  6

  The warning came a second too late. WHAM!

  A stocky boy on a skateboard crashed into Cole. They fell in a tangled heap onto the hard pavement. The skateboard skittered off into a pricker bush.

  Cole groaned, pushed the boy off him, and sat up, shaking his head to clear it.

  The boy sat up, too. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” he growled.

  Cole stared at the boy — a teenager, he now saw — and retorted, “You crashed into me!”

  The words were barely out of his mouth when he realized that the skateboarder wasn’t alone. Leaning against a nearby brick wall were three more teenagers, each holding his own skateboard. Two of them pushed off the wall and ambled toward Cole.

  Meanwhile, the first teen had retrieved his board from the bush. Now he stood in front of the others, looking Cole up and down. His lips turned up in a half-smile, half-sneer.

  “Dude,” he said, “what are you wearing?”

  The boys behind him nudged one another and snickered.

  At first, Cole thought they were laughing at his jacket. Then he realized they were making fun of his gi. Usually, he wore the karate uniform with pride. But now, confronted by high school kids in torn jeans and T-shirts, he felt a little silly, like he was wearing a costume.

  One of the teens, a gangly youth with prominent buckteeth, spoke up. “I know what he’s wearing, Darren. It’s a karate uniform.”

  “Ooooo,” said the other. “We better watch out. This kid knows karate!” He made a hacking sound and spit a wad of mucus into the bushes.

  The third teen, still leaning on the wall, glanced at the spitter with a look of disgust. But he didn’t say anything.

  “Is that right, kid?” Darren said. “You know karate?”

  “I take lessons,” Cole said defensively. “So?”

  “So,” Darren repeated, “let’s see what you can do!”

  Cole blinked. “What do you mean?”

  Darren took a step closer to him and raised his fists. “I mean, let’s fight!”

  The sudden challenge startled Cole. He licked his lips and tried to swallow, but couldn’t.

  Then suddenly, the quiet teenager by the wall stepped forward. “Lay off him, Darren,” he said. There was a warning in his tone.

  “Not a chance, Ty!” Darren said, not taking his eyes off Cole. “This kid ruined my ride. He has it coming!”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Ty said. He nodded at Cole. “Go on, take off.”

  Cole started to move past Darren. But Darren shifted in front of him. “What’s the matter, karate boy? You chicken or something?”

  “N-no,” Cole stammered. “I — I’m not supposed to use karate outside of the dojo. It’s against the rules.”

  Darren gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Dude, don’t you know that rules are made to be broken?”

  Then he rolled up his sleeve and flexed his bicep muscle. “I don’t blame
you for running away. I doubt any karate move would be a match for this!” He slapped the muscle with the flat of his hand. It made a loud smack.

  “Actually, Darren,” Ty said mildly, “if this kid knows enough karate, he could probably take you.”

  Darren snorted with derision. “Yeah, right!”

  Ty ignored him. “What belt are you, kid?”

  “Blue,” Cole replied.

  “Then you know some grappling and takedowns, maybe some locks, right?”

  Cole nodded, his eyes wide. He’d started learning the self-defense techniques Ty mentioned back when he was a purple belt. But how did Ty know about them? He was tempted to ask him. But he wanted to get away from Darren even more. Asking questions would only keep him there, so he kept his mouth closed.

  Ty turned back to Darren. “He could take you all right. But if you want to embarrass yourself —” he shrugged, “— go ahead and try to hit him.”

  At those words, a slow smile spread across Darren’s face — and every fiber in Cole’s body tensed in anticipation of the blow that was about to come.

  7

  But to Cole’s surprise — and great relief — Darren didn’t take a swing at him. He turned away.

  “Aw, forget it,” the teen said. “He’s not worth the trouble. Come on, guys, let’s get out of here.” With that, he put one foot on his skateboard and pushed off with the other. The bucktoothed kid and the one who had spit followed close behind.

  Ty was about to join them when Cole stopped him.

  “I — I — thanks,” he mumbled.

  “No problem. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Cole.”

  “Well, Cole, if I were you, I’d steer clear of Darren. He may have walked away this time. But if he catches you alone…”

  He left the rest unspoken, but Cole understood what he meant. If Darren caught him alone, the older boy wouldn’t hesitate to come after him.

  Once more, Cole thanked him.

  Ty waved it off. “I wasn’t kidding, you know,” he said. “With your skills, I think you could’ve taken him if you were ready.”

  Cole couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. “How do you know about my skills?” he blurted.

  Ty looked away. “Simple. I used to take karate.”

  “You did? Where’d you train? Do you know Sensei Joe? What belt did you reach?” The questions came pouring out.

  Ty didn’t answer any of them. Instead, he said, “My karate days are ancient history.” Then he stepped on his board, pushed off, and slalomed down the bike path after the others. “Remember what I said about Darren,” he called as he went.

  After Ty left, there was nothing for Cole to do but head home. As he walked, it started to rain. He pulled his hood up over his head with an absentminded tug, too busy thinking about what had just happened to notice that he was getting soaked to the skin.

  But his mother noticed. “You look like something the cat dragged in!” she exclaimed when he entered the kitchen twenty minutes later. She sent him upstairs to take a hot shower before dinner.

  He thought about Ty’s final warning while under the warm spray. He shifted uneasily. Did Ty really think Darren planned to come after him?

  If he does, he thought, will I be able to defend myself?

  Cole had never used karate on someone who wasn’t a fellow student. And even when he practiced it at the dojo, he sometimes messed up — like today, when he forgot how to do the wrist grab and didn’t block well while doing kumite number three.

  What if Darren attacks me, and I forget everything I’ve ever learned?

  With that dismal thought in his brain, he turned off the water and climbed out of the shower. But as he toweled off, he realized Ty had already given him the solution to that problem.

  Steer clear of Darren, he’d said.

  Cole wiped a circle in the fog from the bathroom mirror and stared at his reflection.

  Well, that’s just what I’m going to do! It shouldn’t be too difficult. After all, he’s gotta be in high school. What’re the chances that we’ll meet?

  He slicked his hair down with a few swipes of his comb. Then he put on a change of clothes and opened the bathroom door. Delicious food smells wafted in, mingling with the last of the steam from his shower.

  Sniffing the air appreciatively, Cole hurried downstairs to eat. By the time he reached the kitchen, he was determined to put Darren out of his mind for good.

  I have more important things to worry about, he thought as he poured himself a tall glass of cold milk, like practicing for my green belt test and making up a kata!

  8

  You did what?” Cole stared at Marty, horrified. It was the next morning and he had just run into his friend in the hallway at school. He was usually happy to see Marty. But right now, he wanted to strangle him.

  That’s because Marty had just informed him that he had invited Monique to practice karate with them that afternoon.

  “How could you do that to me?” Cole fumed. “You know she drives me crazy!”

  Marty held up his hands. “Before you freak out completely, just listen to why I asked her to join us!”

  Cole blew out a long breath. “This should be good,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing Marty with a glare.

  “Number one,” Marty said, “she became a green belt before we did —”

  “As she loves to point out whenever she can!” Cole interrupted.

  Marty lifted his eyebrows. “Will you let me finish, please?”

  “Okay, okay,” Cole growled.

  “Since she’s already a green belt, she knows what that test will be like. I thought maybe she could give you some pointers.”

  Cole snorted. “Please tell me that’s not the only reason you’re forcing her on me!”

  “No! She’s really good at performing katas, too. I figured with her help our katas for the contest might stand a better chance of winning!”

  Cole narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think she won’t give us lousy advice? I mean, come on, what’s in it for her if she helps us with our katas? Or me with my belt test, for that matter?”

  Marty sighed. “Those questions bring me to the third reason I invited her.”

  “Which is…?”

  “It’s going to sound lame.”

  “Just tell me!”

  Marty hung his head and shuffled his feet. “I feel sorry for her, all right? Yeah, she can be a royal pain, and yeah, she’s a total karate know-it-all.” He looked searchingly at Cole. “But I remember how we all used to be friends. Don’t you?”

  Cole stared at Marty for a long moment. Then he unfolded his arms. “I guess I do. But I still wish you had waited to be her friend again until after the kata contest and my test — or at least asked me before you invited her to join us!”

  Marty laughed. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. You’ll see!”

  “Maybe,” Cole grumbled.

  After school, Cole strapped his duffel bag of karate gear to his bike rack and rode to Marty’s house. He wasn’t sure if he’d need his stuff, but he figured it was better to have it than not.

  After he arrived, he and Marty went downstairs to the basement and pushed the furniture to the walls so they would have enough room to move freely.

  Monique showed up ten minutes later. “Hi,” she said, shooting Cole a tentative smile as she stowed her own bag of karate equipment next to the sofa. “I hope you don’t mind my being here, too.”

  Marty gave Cole a look. “Be nice!” the look warned.

  “The more the merrier,” Cole said. He took off his socks, balled them up, and threw them onto an easy chair. Then he sat on the floor and started to stretch. The others followed his example, and for the next ten minutes the only sound in the basement was their breathing. When their muscles were warm, they were ready to begin.

  “So, how about we work on the kata contest stuff first?” Cole suggested.

  “Can’t we start with something else?”
Monique asked reluctantly. “I’m not even sure the contest is such a great idea.”

  “Huh? Why not?” Marty asked.

  Monique raised a shoulder. “Say someone who entered made up a really dumb kata. Don’t you think it’d be a waste of time to have to sit and watch it? Or learn it?”

  Cole rolled his eyes. “Well, if you don’t want to work on the contest stuff, then what do you want to do?”

  “Marty said you needed help with your test material,” Monique ventured. “I’d be happy to critique a few of your katas for you.”

  “I bet you would,” Cole muttered under his breath.

  “What did you say?” Monique asked sharply.

  Cole glanced at Marty, who gave him the warning look again. “Uh, I said, ‘That’d be good!’”

  Monique narrowed her eyes as if she didn’t believe him. But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she perched on the arm of a chair. Marty took a seat next to her. Feeling like he was on display, Cole walked to the middle of the room and faced them.

  “Heian One,” Monique said primly. “Two moves at a time. I’ll call it out. And if I see a mistake,” she added, “I’ll be sure to stop you.”

  Cole locked his brown eyes with her blue ones. Then he tightened his lips and forced his eyes front. It was all he could do to keep himself from telling her that he’d rather fail the test than put up with this!

  9

  Go for it, man!”

  Marty’s loud, encouraging cheer broke some of the tension in the room. “Give Heian One everything you’ve got!”

  Heian One was the name of the first kata they had learned as karate students. Cole had once read that heian was a Japanese term often translated as “peaceful mind.” Cole hadn’t understood why a sequence of fighting moves would have that name, and had asked Sensei Joe about it one class.

  “It’s a good question,” Sensei Joe had responded. He had gathered the rest of the class around then so they could all hear his answer.