stepped back reflexively, as if to avoid his punch, though his arms were hanging limply along his sides as if too weak to rise. His eyes were at once, sad, disappointed, and angry. I lowered myself onto my sofa and looked up at him.
“It took me a while to see it, to figure it out,” he said. “I don’t have any proof right now but…” He waved the air with his hand as if trying to wipe away his disgust. He plopped down on the other end of the sofa, his overcoat in his lap, and looked at the far wall. He turned and looked at me, shaking his head. “What’s going on with you, Sam? What’s—” He slammed his fist on the sofa arm, which made me jump. “Goddamn-it!”
I was half expecting for the last several weeks for someone from the PD to confront me, but I wasn’t expecting it to be my best friend and boss. I raised my hands to indicate I didn’t know what to say.
“Tell me,” he said softly.
I remember shaking my head and taking a deep breath before I spoke. “Mark… I’m asking you as a friend to trust me on this. I… I didn’t have a choice in what I did and what I didn’t do. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. Okay, maybe I was a little. Mostly I wanted to protect you and protect my family. I wouldn’t do anything to harm you, your career, and especially our friendship. You’re my best friend, my boss. Sometimes you’ve been like a father to me. I know asking you to trust me on this is huge, but that’s what I’m doing. I’m going to Vietnam in three days and try to sort out my life. I just need some time. A couple weeks.”
For a long moment Mark didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even look at me. Finally, he stood and picked up his overcoat. “You’re lucky you planned the trip,” he said. “And you’re lucky that I’m the only one who figured it out.” He slipped on his overcoat and said, “I need time to think too. We’ll talk when you get back. We clear?”
*
The airplane bumps hard, bringing forth a chorus of grunts and gasps from passengers in front and behind me, and forcing me to twist toward the boy.
“Whoa!” Bobby says. “Good one.”
“You do know this isn’t a rollercoaster, right? You do know that there is nothing but five miles of sky between us and a school of man-crushing squid.”
“Oh, right,” he says, his eyes widening. “Forgot.” He looks around the cabin. “You think we’re okay?”
I shrug.
He scrunches his face. “You’re supposed to comfort me. I’m just a kid.”
“Oh. Okay, we’re fine then.”
“You really believe that?”
I shrug.
The plane lurches again. I hear the crash of what sounds like dishes from the galley and gasps throughout the cabin. A few feet down the aisle, an overhead storage door pops open, sending a blue backpack to the floor, drawing another gasp from passengers.
Bobby white knuckles the arms of his seat, looking at me.
“Air turbulence, Son,” I say, seeing that the bumps are truly frightening him. “That’s all. Lots of goofy air currents and such over the sea.”
“Nothing like this the last two times I flew over,” he says, his eyes impossibly large.
I wave my hand to affect nonchalance. “Air patterns change all the time, every day.”
“Okay,” he says, gulping audibly.
My convincing tone seems to calm the lad. Thing is, I haven’t a clue about air currents. One trip to Hawaii was my only time over the ocean.
A sudden cant of the plane to the left sends the empty cups sliding off our trays and down onto the floor. The aircraft levels for a moment before jerking hard to the right. A female voice from somewhere behind us shouts something in what sounds like Vietnamese.
Okay, now I’m getting spooked. Fortunately, Bobby has his eyes squeezed closed so he doesn’t see the color leave my face.
I slowly inhale to a count of four, hold it for four, and release it for a count of four. A tad calmer now, I ask, “What did that woman cry out, do you know?” I’m still assuming that Bobby is Vietnamese.
He opens his eyes, nods. “She said, “‘Jesus Christ.’ Then ‘Buddha, please save us.’”
“Covering all the bases, huh.”
“What do you mean, Sam?”
“Nothing. How you feeling?”
“I’m okay, I guess.” His entire body is shaking likes he’s got palsy. “You think there will be any more of those things?”
“Maybe,” I answer, like it’s no big deal. “Just air currents. They’re unpredictable and invisible.” A tear is about to erupt from the boy’s right eye. “Tell me more about your training, Bobby. You like forms?”
He looks away from me and wipes his eyes. When he looks back, I pretend not to notice that they’re wet. “I love them,” he says, the quiver in his voice less apparent. “I know two extreme forms. I’ve entered them in tournaments.”
“Great. Were you nervous? Any kind of competition is a good way to face your fear and to learn something about yourself.”
“Ooooh yeah. Seriously nervous.”
“And you survived.” I pause, hoping he sees the connection to what is happening now. “How’d you do?”
“Aced it,” he says, with a grin that is both shy and proud. His “palsy” appears to be gone. “I got a third place the first time I competed as a black belt and then got two firsts after that. I’ve only entered three tournies since I got promoted.”
“Excellent! You like it, I take it?”
He nods vigorously. “Yes! I like everything I’ve done so far in my five years of training. Most of the people are nice. I don’t like haters, people who criticize everything. You see that a lot on blogs and on YouTube and stuff.”
“Sadly, the martial arts have haters and bullies, too, but I like to think not as many as in football and basketball.” My mind flashes on Tiger Woman, her hands braced on the skywalk railing behind her, her right leg straight up, the sole of her black boot flush with the sky in preparation of delivering an axe kick. Her face, reflecting insane hate, unaware that she has only seconds to live.
My entire body flushes hot for a moment.
Bobby is looking at me like a question mark. Before he can ask, I close the ugliness in my brain, and hit him with some questions. “What are your goals? What do you want to do with your life and with your martial arts?” The aircraft rocks from side to side a little, though not as intensely as before. Bobby doesn’t seem to notice.
He shrugs. “I’m almost seventeen so no big plans yet. I would like to teach martial arts no matter what I do for my career. I teach a little now, the kids’ class mostly. I really like seeing younger kids get it. Know what I mean?”
