| Powder Monkey July 2010 |
Short Story #3
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| The Sword by Tony Rovari |
Lets see which would be better, a Colt, a High Standard, a Remington or
even that little pee shooter from Italy?
As one of the black belts put his students through their work-out Ward sat
off to the side pondering his question. To him there was no question, western
martial arts would beat eastern martial arts every time. But he had to admit his
girl friend was enjoying the training and was he enjoying how her hour glass
was toning up and flowing.
“Old man, why don’t you get out there?”
The voice came from behind him. As the speaker’s tone was one of a
senior speaking down to a junior Ward simple replied, “Old man?”
“Come on, even someone as old as you might learn something.” A hand
belonging to the voice touched Ward’s shoulder. The slight forward motion
suggested the hand was meant simply as encouragement. Ward took it another
way.
In an action so quick no one saw it Ward stood, turned around, grabbed
the waist behind the hand and bend it back. As the young man clad in white with
a black sash began to cry out Ward commented, “You ever put that paw on me
again, I’ll tear it off and shove it down your mouth. Now are you smart enough
to understand?”
“In this dojo, actions meant to harm are not allowed.”
Still holding the grip, which was causing an increasing amount of pain,
Ward faced the man beside him. A short man with a lot of black around his
waist. “Actions can be both physical and mental. One should always be careful
what one says as one never knows who one is addressing. Especially whether
the one you are insulting can beat the crap out of you.” Ward squeezed just
enough to cause another out bust of pain before pushing the young man away.
“You are most correct.” The Sensai gave the young man look of
contempt. “Master Charles has been an excellent student as far as learning the
physical aspects of our art. But his mastery of the art of self restrain has much
to acquire. . . . You will not speak. This conversation is between two
grand masters.”
“Grand Master?” Charles pointed to Ward as he spoke. He was now
surrounded by his friends. “I don’t see any belt on him.”
“A belt?” The Sensai snapped. “There are more important ways to
determine a man’s statue. The speed in which he locked your waist could only
be performed by a Grand Master. Even Grand Master Horasen could not move
that quick.”
“Actually he did once. Caught me off guard with a side kick.” Ward rubbed
his jaw. “Can still feel it. Guy had a hell of a kick.”
A doubting Sensai looked at Ward. “Master Horasen has been gone
seventy five years.”
“Only been seventy three. Now as for junior here - ”
“Junior!” Charles roared as started to step forward.
“Don’t kid.” Ward held up a finger up in a warning position. “I’m your
master in more ways than you’ll ever know.”
“Step on the mat.” Charles bows as if he was showing Ward the way. His
friends cheered him on.
Ward just stared at the young man. Finally he remarked to the Sensai. “Is
he for real?”
“You trying to make a fool of me?”
“Nope, you’re doing a good job on your own.” The Sensai tried not to
laugh at Ward’s comment.
A foot shot forth towards Ward at a speed he almost laughed at. As the
foot passed Ward grabbed the ankle and forced it to move further than Charles
was expecting, He was soon laying on the floor.
“Sensai, I’ll take your word that he has mastered your art. But for one
who has reached his level of training, his lack of self control is mind boggling.
With no disrespect to you meant, perhaps he might need another sensai.”
“No other Master will take him.”
“Ah, why do you put up with him?” Ward did not understand the Sensai.
Charles would be gone a long time ago.
“He keeps winning tournaments. Great advertisement. We always have a
full house.”
“Ah, yes, the only color that matters, green.
“I’m the best.” Charles spoke with pride. He was backed by his friends.
“At your level perhaps.” The look in Ward’s eyes backed the friends away.
Even the Sensai stepped back.
“And you could teach me to be your level?” Charles’ contemp was obvious
in speech, stance and mannerism.
Ward slowly looked the young man up and down. “You are not ready for
my level. I would not even think of teaching you until you can passed through
the glass and retrieve that sword.” He pointed to the one he meant.
After a moment of disbelief Charles began laughing. Stepping over to the
glass case where the sword was housed he took a fighting stance. His fist
smashed the pane before it grabbed the sword. “I’m ready to be a master.
Praise the Lord.”
As the young man proudly showed off the trophy he and his friends
celebrated. While the Sensai stood in disbelief and Shelly looked for the exit
Ward shook his head.
Just as the young man started to shove the sword at Ward it leaped out
of his hands. Only Shelly had an idea what might be happening. The others
stood in bewilderment as the sword reentered the case settling back in its
original display position. Then the glass pieces raised from the floor and
reassembled as the front of the case. As dojo watched, all the damage that
had been done was undone. In only seconds the case looked as it had before
being struck.
As everyone in the dojo looked at the case Ward spoke. “There is a right
way and a wrong way to do every thing.”
Slowly Ward passed his hand through the glass and put his hand on the
sword. Then he brought it to his body. All the members of the dojo looked
stunned at what had happened. Unlike Chalres, Ward had retrieved the sword
through the case’s glass front without breaking it in any fashion.
For a moment Ward looked the sword over. “Excellent workmanship. You
are correct, this was not made by Sonjado. I remember this sword.” Ward
pointed to a discoloration in the blade. “This occurred when I taught Hasikido
how to fold iron seven times. He did indeed become a master. Good to see at
least one of his works survives.” Ward twirled the weapons several times in a
manner that clearly impressed those present.
The young man started to say something when Ward handed him the
sword. “When you can thrive this the correct way we will begin your lessons.”
As the group stared at the sword and glass pane Ward lead Shelly out to
the parking lot.
“Ward, how old are you?” Shelly did not look as her boy friend as she got
into the car. He did not answer until he was also seated.
“I’ve already told you what year I was born.”
“Why do I have the feeling you’ve lived a lot longer than that?”
“Because my dear. You’re not a dumb blonde. Your mind is as sharp as
that sword. Ready for some coffee or a good stiff one?”
even that little pee shooter from Italy?
As one of the black belts put his students through their work-out Ward sat
off to the side pondering his question. To him there was no question, western
martial arts would beat eastern martial arts every time. But he had to admit his
girl friend was enjoying the training and was he enjoying how her hour glass
was toning up and flowing.
“Old man, why don’t you get out there?”
The voice came from behind him. As the speaker’s tone was one of a
senior speaking down to a junior Ward simple replied, “Old man?”
“Come on, even someone as old as you might learn something.” A hand
belonging to the voice touched Ward’s shoulder. The slight forward motion
suggested the hand was meant simply as encouragement. Ward took it another
way.
In an action so quick no one saw it Ward stood, turned around, grabbed
the waist behind the hand and bend it back. As the young man clad in white with
a black sash began to cry out Ward commented, “You ever put that paw on me
again, I’ll tear it off and shove it down your mouth. Now are you smart enough
to understand?”
“In this dojo, actions meant to harm are not allowed.”
Still holding the grip, which was causing an increasing amount of pain,
Ward faced the man beside him. A short man with a lot of black around his
waist. “Actions can be both physical and mental. One should always be careful
what one says as one never knows who one is addressing. Especially whether
the one you are insulting can beat the crap out of you.” Ward squeezed just
enough to cause another out bust of pain before pushing the young man away.
“You are most correct.” The Sensai gave the young man look of
contempt. “Master Charles has been an excellent student as far as learning the
physical aspects of our art. But his mastery of the art of self restrain has much
to acquire. . . . You will not speak. This conversation is between two
grand masters.”
“Grand Master?” Charles pointed to Ward as he spoke. He was now
surrounded by his friends. “I don’t see any belt on him.”
“A belt?” The Sensai snapped. “There are more important ways to
determine a man’s statue. The speed in which he locked your waist could only
be performed by a Grand Master. Even Grand Master Horasen could not move
that quick.”
“Actually he did once. Caught me off guard with a side kick.” Ward rubbed
his jaw. “Can still feel it. Guy had a hell of a kick.”
A doubting Sensai looked at Ward. “Master Horasen has been gone
seventy five years.”
“Only been seventy three. Now as for junior here - ”
“Junior!” Charles roared as started to step forward.
“Don’t kid.” Ward held up a finger up in a warning position. “I’m your
master in more ways than you’ll ever know.”
“Step on the mat.” Charles bows as if he was showing Ward the way. His
friends cheered him on.
Ward just stared at the young man. Finally he remarked to the Sensai. “Is
he for real?”
“You trying to make a fool of me?”
“Nope, you’re doing a good job on your own.” The Sensai tried not to
laugh at Ward’s comment.
A foot shot forth towards Ward at a speed he almost laughed at. As the
foot passed Ward grabbed the ankle and forced it to move further than Charles
was expecting, He was soon laying on the floor.
“Sensai, I’ll take your word that he has mastered your art. But for one
who has reached his level of training, his lack of self control is mind boggling.
With no disrespect to you meant, perhaps he might need another sensai.”
“No other Master will take him.”
“Ah, why do you put up with him?” Ward did not understand the Sensai.
Charles would be gone a long time ago.
“He keeps winning tournaments. Great advertisement. We always have a
full house.”
“Ah, yes, the only color that matters, green.
“I’m the best.” Charles spoke with pride. He was backed by his friends.
“At your level perhaps.” The look in Ward’s eyes backed the friends away.
Even the Sensai stepped back.
“And you could teach me to be your level?” Charles’ contemp was obvious
in speech, stance and mannerism.
Ward slowly looked the young man up and down. “You are not ready for
my level. I would not even think of teaching you until you can passed through
the glass and retrieve that sword.” He pointed to the one he meant.
After a moment of disbelief Charles began laughing. Stepping over to the
glass case where the sword was housed he took a fighting stance. His fist
smashed the pane before it grabbed the sword. “I’m ready to be a master.
Praise the Lord.”
As the young man proudly showed off the trophy he and his friends
celebrated. While the Sensai stood in disbelief and Shelly looked for the exit
Ward shook his head.
Just as the young man started to shove the sword at Ward it leaped out
of his hands. Only Shelly had an idea what might be happening. The others
stood in bewilderment as the sword reentered the case settling back in its
original display position. Then the glass pieces raised from the floor and
reassembled as the front of the case. As dojo watched, all the damage that
had been done was undone. In only seconds the case looked as it had before
being struck.
As everyone in the dojo looked at the case Ward spoke. “There is a right
way and a wrong way to do every thing.”
Slowly Ward passed his hand through the glass and put his hand on the
sword. Then he brought it to his body. All the members of the dojo looked
stunned at what had happened. Unlike Chalres, Ward had retrieved the sword
through the case’s glass front without breaking it in any fashion.
For a moment Ward looked the sword over. “Excellent workmanship. You
are correct, this was not made by Sonjado. I remember this sword.” Ward
pointed to a discoloration in the blade. “This occurred when I taught Hasikido
how to fold iron seven times. He did indeed become a master. Good to see at
least one of his works survives.” Ward twirled the weapons several times in a
manner that clearly impressed those present.
The young man started to say something when Ward handed him the
sword. “When you can thrive this the correct way we will begin your lessons.”
As the group stared at the sword and glass pane Ward lead Shelly out to
the parking lot.
“Ward, how old are you?” Shelly did not look as her boy friend as she got
into the car. He did not answer until he was also seated.
“I’ve already told you what year I was born.”
“Why do I have the feeling you’ve lived a lot longer than that?”
“Because my dear. You’re not a dumb blonde. Your mind is as sharp as
that sword. Ready for some coffee or a good stiff one?”