Redemption (8 page)

Sammy demonstrated. He closed his fist, letting the principal joint of his index finger jut out.

“Interesting,” said Danny.

“You hit with the joint. The impact of your hit must be contained in the bulk of the joint. This will have a piercing effect on your enemy and of causing him internal damage, in short, at the level of his organs and vital points. The attacks could scratch like a tiger, with a normal fist or the Panther fist. The attacks could also be ferocious and violent like that of a tiger. The movements, as agile and supple as those of a leopard.

Sammy showed him the sacks of rice installed for hitting.

“We train ourselves to have iron palms. Hitting the sack with your joints, your fingers and palms, the hands become as hard as steel after a time. The impact of a sole hit on your enemies will devastate them. We salute with the left closed, the right palm over the fist. The greatest secret of our style is that which we call the
ging
, the scared force. It defines itself as an explosive force generated by rapid contraction of the muscles the same type of contraction as when a person is suddenly frightened. And it’s with that same jolt that your enemy is hit. See for yourself!”

The practitioners began their exercises again. Danny watched them and realized the ferocity and power of the style. The movements were rapid, powerful, aggressive. The practitioners moved together and he felt the walls and the floor vibrate. He couldn’t do anything but agree with Sammy. The experience that he had in martial arts was so that from the naked eye, he had deflected the force of the blows given by those in front of him. A single hit was sufficient to cause death.

“ How can I put it, it’s something like… magic,” said Danny.

Sammy winked at him, followed by a salute in exhaling with force as a means of welcoming Danny. It was then that he began his training in the obscure, secret and mystical world of Pak Mei.

*     *     *

The jet of hot water of the shower was like a massage to Danny. He stayed under the jet with Chandra enlaced with him. He breathed deeply the humid, hot air that pressed into him in the shower. He felt Chandra’s hot body, her breasts pushing against him.
He would stay like that eternally if he could.
She looked at him with her brown eyes and said with a smile:

“I forgot to bring towels.”

He kissed her slowly while the water continued to pour over them in millions of droplets.

“Ok, I understand… I’m going to look for them, stay here!”

She laughed and gave him a spank when he left the shower. He went to find two towels and he hooked his fingertip on the panel of the closet, which made him bleed. He opened the medicine cabinet and looked for a dressing. In pressing down the bottles of the cabinet, a sachet containing white powder fell in the sink. Curious, he examined the texture. The powder was beige and granular. Opening it, a light odour of ether seeped out. He knew then that the powder was cocaine. Incredulous, he replaced the sachet where he’d found it. How was it that Chandra had drugs in her apartment? He was incapable of believing that she could be taking it.
This would have come up
. He returned to the shower and she took his heck.

“You took long enough.”

“I cut myself on your closet,” he said.

“Oops.”

“I love your shower. It’s big.”

“So it must be that you come and take so many at my house,” she said in embracing him.

He enlaced himself around her hips. He couldn’t erase the image of the white powder from his head.

*     *     *

“Can you explain this to me?” Danny demanded in pointing to the bag of white powder that he had taken care to place on the table so that she would see it when she entered the room.

“What do you want me to say, I don’t understand!” Chandra retorted.

“Well… these drugs… why do you have them in your cabinet?”

“You’re going through my things now!? And more, it’s not drugs, its medicine I have, because…”

“Please stop, I opened the bag… it’s cocaine. Why do you take that crap!?”

“I… I don’t take it often. When things aren’t going well, it helps me… forget.”

“You put that shit up your nose… you believe it helps you? You don’t help anything Chandra, you’re not solving your problems!”

“You can’t understand!” she retorted angrily with eyes full of tears.

“So, tell me...because you are right, I don’t understand,” he said advancing on her, sitting on the sofa. She cried and she looked at the floor. She avoided his look.

“You think I’m proud of it? I’m… I’m ashamed, but I’m not capable of forgetting my past, Danny. I’ve made a lot of progress, but there are moments when you could say my heart’s about to explode. I take it when I can’t endure the pain… I haven’t taken it in two weeks. You help me a lot, you know… I’m going to stop all this, don’t worry.”

“When will that happen exactly? You know that you can tell me everything, we’re going to find a solution together,” he said, taking her hand.

“Listen, I know… but I want to do it myself. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I’m going to get help. I don’t want to get you mixed into this, please. I must myself learn to forget my past and live in the present.”

“Ok, I can understand that. I love you and you’ll see, things are going to be better, but not if you keep taking this shit.”

“Yes, you’re right.” She took the bag and with a jerk threw the contents in the toilet.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, embracing her.

“I love you, you know it. Hold on – I’m so sorry for all this,” she whispered, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“It’ll all be fine, you’ll see.”

CHAPTER 9

The harsh winter was coming to an end. There had been tons of snow. Immense snow banks lined the bogged streets of the provincial capital. Danny continued his studies, his work at the Lotus and his training in Pak Mei. Sammy and the rest of the students were impressed with his abilities. He had begun to learn the principal forms of Pak Mei, such as
Jik Bo Kuen
,
Sub Gee
and
Gau Bo Tui
. The choreographies of movement that they practiced in solitude hid the movement patterns of Pak Mei. They practiced combat sessions between students as well to test their abilities. The combats were ferocious and with contact, but controlled for the needs of training. Danny had fingers and joints hard as steel after several months of training with the rice sacks.

Sammy was impressed with Danny’s potential to explode. His capacity to free his energy into his hits was impressive. Sammy found that his movements were harsh and powerful, but they lacked perfect fluidity. He made use of a moment when Danny hurt himself in the stomach during a training to explain certain concepts. He had exhaled too wildly during a hit and the impact caused pain in his stomach. He had continued his exercise, but Sammy ordered him to stop for a spell to recover.

“You have to leave time for the tissues and internal organs to reinforce.”

“Don’t worry, Sammy, I just screwed up a bit. I forced it, but I’m fine.”

“No, you're not! If you don’t leave time for your body, you could hurt yourself seriously, tear yourself inside and die. This art is of great power, but one must know how to use it adequately. The generated power could be more than your body can take.”

“You’re saying I could kill myself?”

“Yes, if you don’t listen to your body at moments like these. You know, certain styles could compare to a knife that one gives in the hand of a person. If you don’t pay attention, you could get cut. Certainly, that’ll hurt you, but it won’t kill you. Teaching Pak Mei, it’s like putting a grenade in the hands of a pupil. The margin of error is thin and the errors of manipulation for that which takes it could cost his life.”

“Alright!  Godammit... Sammy,” he said, sitting on the ground while the other pupils continued to practice with a ferocious intensity, hearing their massive exhales accompanying the hits. An austere ambiance reigned. The practitioners took a very serious attitude. The only motivation was survival, to dominate the enemy. Concentration and intensity overruled with the candles and neon blue lights filtering through the place where no light of day could enter.
You’d think you were in a parallel universe.

“Here, drink this concoction. This will help you recover and reinforce your insides. Your wound is there for two reasons. The first is the weakness of your body, and the second is the lack of fluidity in your movements. Certainly, your attacks are vicious, direct, explosive and rapid, but you must have calmness and fluidity throughout. Pak Mei is like a wave that swallows everything in its path. You must have ferocity, but also fluidity.”

“But you’re contradicting yourself,” said Danny, frustrated. “How can a person be fast and powerful… and at the same time mild and fluid?”

“Life is a contradiction, Danny, but you are going to find out, I’m sure of it. Your attacks must be all at the same time. The real sensation of the power of Pak Mei, you learn it with time and practice. Learning this art is not so much learning the techniques and movements, it’s learning a sensation. It is said that an instructor of Pak Mei will teach the techniques, but it’s the dead that teach the essence and the power of the style. That's it, you are done for tonight.”

“Fine.”

Danny left the restaurant into the raging winter. The wind and the snow blew powerfully in the night. He blocked the wind with his hand, thinking about what Sammy had said. He could see the photo of the obscure monk named Pak Mei who watched behind the trails of incense that swirled around him. His way of fighting had changed. He was more solid in his positions, his hits were more powerful and destructive. His intention was determined and ferocious like those of a tiger. A change was surfacing in him, a power whose existence he’d ignored since it had invaded him those months ago. In his mind, He knew he was good, but not that good yet.

*     *     *

“She didn’t come to work this morning at the salon and she hasn’t answered the phone since yesterday,” said Katie.

“Since yesterday… I talked to her yesterday morning before class and she told me that she was doing well,” he shouted with a note of worry in his voice.

Actually, she hadn’t done well for several months. Danny could see Chandra wasting away before his eyes for weeks. It seemed to him like she was getting thinner. She was irritable and she distanced herself from him. He had serious doubts that she was using drugs again. She had denied the charges, resisting each time he tried to broach the subject on the pretext that she would see a psychologist again and that he was imagining things. She was only tired. His doubts were revealed to be exact when Katie, her best friend and co-worker, had called him to tell him that Chandra had lost consciousness at work and that the paramedics had rushed her to the hospital. Katie said that she had been pale when she came in that morning. She seemed overworked, a reaction that she had linked to exhaustion and stress. Danny had rushed to the hospital to see the doctor and he asked him:

“How long has your girlfriend been taking cocaine?”

“I… I thought she quit. She’s going to therapy. I know she took it months ago. We fought about it. So… it’s not because of stress, then, doctor?”

“Your friend had an overdose. I’m afraid her problem is more serious than a simple problem of stress. She survived this time, but she was lucky. The next time, it might cost her life.”

“My god!” he exclaimed, covering his face with his hands. “I… I don’t know how to save her anymore. She resists me… I… I don’t want to lose her, doctor.”

“It’s not your fault. You can’t fix her problem in her place. You can’t do any more. Those close to people with substance abuse problems often feel the same as you – they feel powerless. She has to take this into her own hands and unfortunately, you can’t do it yourself. One thing is certain, she needs the care of specialists.”

“Thanks for the advice,” he muttered, watching the wall.

“No trouble. Take confidence, there’s always a solution. Don’t lose hope, she needs your support.”

“I know, doc.”

She slept in a hospital bed where he was inside the room. Her eyes were shut, her complexion pale, with her brown hair that fell along her face. He found her beautiful and pale also. She was nearly unrecognizable after several months. He’d tried to be with her more by reducing his schedule. He had taken time to take care of her until she got better. He thought she
was
better. She was seeing a shrink, but she refused to discuss it with him. She had said that the best way to help her was to be with her like he was. She opened her eyes when he sat by her bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

She looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry I lied. I was stressed out,” she said, turning her head to avoid his gaze.

“Never mind all that,” he responded, caressing her face with his hand. “We’re going to find a solution.”

“No, we won’t! I lied to you. I’m making you suffer because of this too. I don’t want to talk about my problems to spoil what I have with you. I want to protect us. I was raped by my uncle when I was a kid several times and… and… I can’t forget it. I feel dead inside. That's it, now you know. What else can I say...it haunts me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You can’t be sorry, you didn’t know… nobody can guess these things.”

“Did you report him?”

“No, I wasn’t able to do it. I felt responsible for what happened and I was ashamed. I could never talk about it.”

“It wasn’t your fault, what happened. It’s all his. He needs to pay for his actions!” he yelled, angry.

“He’s been dead for years. And me, it’s impossible to live my life. He destroyed me…”

“Nothing’s lost. You’re going to get better. I won’t let you not get better.”

“Danny… I believe that you would be better away from me. I’ll hurt you, I know it. I don’t want to, I want to make you happy and because of me, you aren’t.”

“I want to be with you for whatever happens.”

She closed her eyes. The tears flowed and a little smile graced her lips.