In the Name of God. Stephen J. Gordon

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In the Name of God - Stephen J. Gordon

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time,” I said to the waitress.

      She brought the check, I paid it, and we headed outside.

      Instead of starting to walk, we just paused in front of the entrance to stretch — or at least to let our stomachs expand. By now the sun had set and the ambient light was beginning to recede. Street lights had come on and store signs had started glowing.

      “Thanks for the treat,” Jon said as we started walking up to the left.

      “Don’t worry, I’ll just raise your dues.”

      “He’s kidding, right?” Alli asked Jon.

      “I’m never sure.”

      We continued heading up the street. As we did so, I nonchalantly looked around for the group of kids I had seen before. God, I hoped they wouldn’t get in my face. As I scanned the area, there was no sign of them. The three of us ambled up the block, checking out other shop windows. The store fronts soon changed to private row houses. In front of several doorways residents were sitting on their marble steps, just taking in the neighborhood.

      As we strolled I listened to Jon and Alli talk. I looked at them, smiled from time to time as they turned to me, but basically kept to myself. I was beginning to feel tired. The early evening air was quiet, and there was an orange glow to the sky as the city’s high pressure sodium lights tinted the heavens. I watched as more than one couple walked past, arm-in-arm.

      I started thinking about Alli again. I thought about the age difference...about the life difference. I just didn’t know what to feel, or was supposed to feel, about her. Everything would be fine and then, as I spent more time with her, I’d become drained. Like now. We started upbeat back in the dojo, then the discussion about last night, put me off. I just wished she hadn’t asked me any questions. But that shouldn’t be a problem, really, if everything were all right.

      “So, Sifu,” Jon said interrupting my introspection, “it’d be good to know a physical therapist in our line of work, don’t you think? Now we just need an orthopedist. We could have them on retainers.”

      I brought myself back. “Not a great thing to advertise, though. ‘Come to Gidon’s karate class. We have a physical therapist and orthopedist on premises!’ ”

      “I see what you mean.”

      We rounded a corner and headed up toward Jon’s car.

      “I got it,” Jon said to Alli, “forget the retainer. You’ll just have to join us.”

      “I think I’ll just come after class, if I’m invited,” she looked at me.

      I turned to her to say Lord knows what, but then I saw Jon’s car. Or rather I saw a kid, perhaps seventeen, sitting on the hood of Jon’s car. He had a pair of aluminum crutches leaning against the front right fender.

      As we approached, three other kids, who were leaning on an adjacent car, joined him. The boy on Jon’s hood slid down and walked toward us. I guess the crutches were just an accessory, like sunglasses. He stood tall, probably five eleven, and was a little on the skinny side. He had curly black hair and cold, black eyes. Too cold for someone his age.

      To either side of him were two boys, also around seventeen. The one on the right wore a backwards Yankees cap — I could tell because “Yankees” was written above the adjustable strap. In this town, wearing a Yankees cap was a definite statement of defiance. The third boy — the one to crutch boy’s left — had a young Rasputin look about him with long, stringy dark hair parted in the middle. He was wiry and kept both hands wide open, fingers spread apart. Behind them was a fourth boy. This one looked younger and very uncomfortable. He was fidgeting and licked his lips nervously.

      The three of us stopped in front of them, Jon and Alli were to my left.

      I was not in the mood for this. Even as my heartbeat came up slightly, I let out a breath and relaxed. If the leader lifted his hand, or if it disappeared into a pocket, I’d hit him just like I’d punch a stone to break it.

      My only thought was why didn’t they just leave me alone. I wasn’t looking for them. I was going out of my way not to look for them. The Israelis wanted these kids, I didn’t.

      The evening air around us was motionless.

      I hadn’t been in a street fight for a while. Didn’t matter. First I’d take the leader, then the other three. I had my techniques picked out.

      I looked into the leader’s eyes and felt the blood move to my hands.

      “Oh man, I don’t believe this,” Jon broke in. He stepped away from us and to the side. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

      “What are you doing?” the leader spoke with a slight accent. I couldn’t place it. Eastern Europe? Russia?

      “Well, I don’t want to get blood all over my clothes. That really sucks.” Jon moved animatedly over toward the leader. “You guys are in for a treat. Well, I am anyway. You guys ought to be honored.”

      Alli looked at me nervously. She wasn’t sure what was going on. The group of boys just watched Jon.

      “Gotta tell you,” he continued, “I never thought I’d see this. I’ve heard stories about this man,” he pointed to me, “but I never thought I’d see him in action. I know he doesn’t look like much, but, man, this is going to be over in five seconds. I wish I had video. Wait, I’ve got my phone.” He pulled out his cell. “You guys don’t know who this is, do you?”

      They just looked at him blankly. The boy in back was really jumpy now. He looked like he was going to empty his bladder.

      “This is Master Gidon Aronson. You can call him ‘Sifu.’ There’s been a lot of shit in his life and he’s going to hit you with all of it. Right now. I figure at least one of you will be dead before you hit the ground. The rest of you I figure, what Sifu,” he turned to me again, “internal injuries, bleeding, ruptured things? Alli, you may want to stand over here with me. Once he gets cooking, you don’t want to be in the way.” He reached over and pulled her closer to him.

      Jon was on a roll. He leaned over to Alli. “You are about to see a master craftsman in action.” He turned back to the leader. “And if you think you’re faster than him, forget it.

      I never see it coming when he hits me and I work with him all the time.”

      Jon turned to Alli, who didn’t look too steady herself. All the blood had drained from her face. “This is going to be really good,” he said to no one in particular. Then to the leader: “So, go ahead, reach for something, or move a hand toward him. Go ahead.”

      No one moved. The only sound came from an air conditioner somewhere above us.

      I could see the pulse in the leader’s neck. It was moving fairly rapidly. I looked at the leader and...smiled.

      A full two seconds went by when the nervous boy in back spoke up, “C’mon. Let’s go.”

      “Shut up, Pavel,” the leader spat out.

      The leader continued to look at me. His cold eyes now had hatred in them. He didn’t know how to get out of the mess he had put his group in. I knew that he knew I

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