He trained twice a week for 2 hours. He earned his white belt in a week. His orange in a month. His green came about by the 12 month point. His black was on his third year. By this time he could break a board, he could break and arm and he could break any appendage.
Rob sat at the party dressed in jeans and a polo. While the belt he wore was black, it wasn’t the one he wore at the dojo.
Jim ran up laughing.
“Hey Rob, this is George,” Jim said this introducing Rob to his friend.
Rob stuck out his hand. “Hello George,” Rob said.
George grabbed Rob’s hand Rob could feel the pain shoot up his arm. George was squeezing hard. It may have been to intimidate Rob, it may have been his way of being sincere. Either way it was uncomfortable.
George smiled.
“It’s nice to meet a fellow fighter,” George said. A gleam of a challenge could be seen in his eyes.
Robs eyes shot open and re-scanned the man he was shaking hands with.
He was dressed in a formal dress shirt, the kind college kids wear to parties and business men wear under suits. He also had some jeans on. He had a gut and didn’t look particularly like a fighter.
“What style do you practice?” Rob asked.
“I practice street fighting,” George said smirking.
“Do you fight often?” Rob asked, his level of intrigue was rising.
“When ever I feel like it,” George replied.
“Hold it you guys, you have to show him that trick Rob,” Jim said smirking.
Rob’s mind shot to the technique he’d used on Jim at the last party. He put his leg behind Jim’s own, then he’d put a hand on the arch of Jim’s back and put his hand forward on Jim’s chest. Jim fell straight to the floor.
“Yea, I’d like to see that,” George said in a tone that suggested he wasn’t a believer.
As Rob stood up, George looked him up and down.
Rob got into position and did the technique and George dropped on the floor.
As George got back up he said, “You can’t actually use that in a fight you know.”
Rob boggled for a second.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
George threw a punch and hit Rob in the side of the face. Rob’s hands instantly shot up and George was in an arm bar in the blink of an eye.
George began to try to struggle out of the arm bar and Rob grabbed his fingers to better restrain him.
“Dude, you need to calm down,” Rob said.
“I’ll kill you,” George said.
George tugged at his arm and tried to get free.
“You’re going to hurt your fingers dude,” Rob said.
George kicked Rob’s legs out from under him and Rob fell to the ground. George screamed.
As Rob realized George’s fingers were in his hands the police had already been called. He’d been over this in classes. In every situation he was supposed to run away. There were very real consequences to the misuse of this art. He’d need a lawyer fast.
The police arrived as well as the ambulance and George was lifted onto the stretcher along with his fingers. The police brought Rob over for questioning.
“So you held onto his fingers as he jerked down?” the officer asked.
“I did, but, I warned him he was in a lock and that that would happen,” Rob said.
“Why was he in a lock?” the officer asked.
“Initially, I was showing him a party trick, then he punched me in the face and I caught his hand. He started raving about how he was going to kill me and began to thrash. I think I embarrassed him and he was a little riled up and attacked me to try to prove his manliness,” Rob said.
“So, after he punched you you put him in a lock and took his fingers?” the Officer asked, his face seemed blank and to have no emotions.
Rob began to sweat, “I didn’t take his fingers, he tried to break out of my lock and they snapped off when he kicked out my legs.”
The officer replied coldly, “At any point did you try to run away and call the police?”
“No, I had it handled. It just got a bit out of hand,” Rob said.
The officer nodded and headed back to his car for a moment. A minute later he returned, “Rob Henderson, I have a warrant for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney and one will be provided to you if you can’t afford one…”
I can’t believe this, if the officer had been here he would have seen what really went on. Now I look like the bad guy. What the heck, Rob thought.
Rob was checked for weapons and the officer put cuffs on him. Into the squad car he went.
As Rob sat there and watched Jim explain what happened he looked down at the blood on his hands. His hands were red from George’s blood. This wasn’t George’s fault, nor Jim’s fault. This was his own, after all if he’d been more careful, his hands wouldn’t have been covered in blood.