The Romero Strain (29 page)

Julie knew I made the statement more for her benefit than Marisol’s. She responded with, “I think we girls have heard nearly every offensive remark ever invented come out of your mouth. So just tell us.”

No, she hadn’t.

“Okay. That night, as I lay on my straw mat on the dirt floor of the little hovels which we called our rooms, battered, beaten, bruised, humiliated, and in extreme agony, she came to me. She never spoke a word when she entered. She disrobed, proceeded to arouse me, and as soon as I was hard she strapped a condom on me, mounted and fucked me.” I could see Julie was getting out of her comfort zone with my frank and explicit language. “And when I say she fucked me, believe me, it was all about her. It only took me about three minutes before I was ready to…” I hesitated, looking for a suitable word, trying to alleviate Julie’s uneasiness. “… let loose. And just as I was about to, she reached down, grabbed my balls, and squeezed me so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Well, after that moment, I no longer had any desire to ejaculate. She continued to pleasure herself at my expense and when she was fully satisfied, she stood up, closed her robe, looked me straight in the eyes, and left… leaving me standing at attention, so to speak. So you see, that’s how she made me her bitch twice that day.”

Joe, of course, had to make a comment. “You really like underage girls, don’t you?”

For a change I had no desire to verbally spar with him. I had found peace, solace and control in my mediation. I simply ignored him.

Marisol wanted to know, “Did you ever fight her again?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. After my overwhelming experience, and after a few days of healing, I humbled myself before her, apologized, and asked her if she would teach an unworthy student some of the finer points of stick fighting. See, at the time of the fight, I didn’t realize she was my teacher’s daughter and a champion tournament fighter. Anyways, the last week I was there, the instructor asked if I would like a rematch. Without hesitation I accepted the challenge.”

“Did you win?” Marisol asked.

“No,” I responded, knowing I probably could never beat her. “However it was…” I hesitated, and then gave myself more credit than I deserved, “… sort of a draw, and I did get in a few good strikes.”

“You lost again, didn’t you,
mi amore?”
Marisol said in a knowing voice.

“More like got his ass beat again,” Julie snickered, unsympathetically.

“Okay, I lost. But at least I wasn’t carried out of the ring unconscious. I limped out, battered and bruised, but with my dignity intact and having earned respect from my fellow students and teachers. I even received an acknowledgement as the most improved student from my masters. But more importantly, to me, I earned Bon’s respect.”

Joe added, “Did you pay her a visit that night and make her your bitch?”

I was calm in my response, “Joe, you just don’t get it, do you? You never seem to get it. It wasn’t about asserting one’s power over another or getting payback. It was a lesson in respect, inside and outside the ring.”

Julie said, “You did, didn’t you?”

“No, Julie, I didn’t. However, she did visit me again and this time she made me a proper man… several times over.”

“Mi amor,
you mean she was your first? Did you love her?”

“We’re getting off subject here, Marisol. This was a conversation about the ability to overcome one’s enemy.”

“You’re changing the subject,
papi
.”

She knew I hated it when she called me that outside the bedroom.

Julie asked, “What’s the matter, J.D.? I mean,
Sui Lóng
. Too embarrassed to admit you loved her?”

After helping save their lives, I thought I would have garnered some respect. This was not the case. “No, Julie. I’m not embarrassed. It’s just a little bittersweet.”

“Then you did love her,” Marisol said.

“Yes. Yes, I did. Happy now? Can we get back to the reason why we’re all here?”

Marisol probed deeper. “Why didn’t you marry her?”

I ignored her. “Okay everyone, time to line up and I’ll show you first position in
Jeet Kune Do.”

“You’re not answering the question,” she said, slightly teasing, but still trying to pry an answer out of me.

Admitting I once loved Bonna was not difficult at all. The moment she brought me into manhood was an experience and memory I could never forget. But it also brought out feelings that I had repressed for so long. It was the source of why all my relationships had failed.

After my romantic moment with Bonna, I kept in touch with her for many years. We never spoke of our affair or of my returning to her homeland. She was too traditional to speak of it and I was too stupid not to ask her father’s permission to court her, She retired from competitive fighting and married. She had sent me a wedding invitation, though I am sure she knew I would not attend. That was the day I let my heart’s desire go. I never wrote to her again.

Marisol did have a right to hear my answer; after all, she had given her virginity to me, but putting me on the spot in front of the others was not the appropriate thing to do. She was too headstrong and she did not want to let it go for another time. She was a woman, but she was also a young girl who hadn’t fully matured. It was time for her to bend to my will. I admonished her in front of the others.

“Marisol, this is no longer the time or the place. We are here to learn. Conversation is over. Line up with the others.”

The room fell silent as Marisol begrudgingly complied.

“Okay,” I said, breaking the tension of the uncomfortable silence, “let us begin.”

And we did. Four times a week we met and I taught them what I knew, hoping that they would never have to use it, but fearing they might.

Everyone grew stronger. Kermit lost some weight, Marisol and Julie gained muscle––especially Julie, whose body became lean and cut, and reminded me of Bon. Joe gradually grew stronger, but didn’t lose much weight. His attitude also grew more willful, which reminded me of myself before my fall.

David. He surprised me, on purpose. After the death of his brother, shortly after he formally announced the disbanding of his group, he decided to seek a new path in life, one that would not take him to the same tragic end as his brother Christian.

DD Dominion once again became the simple, unassuming David DiMinni. He embarked on a career path using the college degree he had achieved years prior to his music stardom, and a healthy lifestyle of proper nutrition and exercise. As part of his regimen in making his body healthy and strong, he was studying the
Okinawa
martial arts style of
Isshin-Ryu Karate
, which meant
one heart way
.
Isshin-Ryu
was a fifty-fifty blend of
Shorin-Ryu
and
Goju-Ryu karates
, which was considered the perfect blend of soft and hard, linear and circular movements. But he had not told me that he had been studying
Isshin-Ryu
long enough to have earned, like myself, a
shodan
. David and I often spared vigorously, testing our skills, and on many occasions we walked away sore and bruised.

I had found in the master sergeant a good training partner. Though at first he had been out of practice, it was only a month before he had the stamina and strength he needed to go full-tilt with me.

“Today,” I announced to the class, “Master Sergeant Brown and I will go toe-to-toe full-out. This will be our first no holds barred match. We have set some rules, due to the fact that we don’t want to hurt one another. There will be no face or groin strikes. And that’s about it. David, I would like you to be timekeeper, and everyone else will be judges. At the end of three, three minute rounds, you will vote for a winner.”

We took our positions and bowed to one another.

As we sized each other up with a few leg kicks and hand strikes, I taunted him. I wanted to see if I could rattle his cage and cause him to make a tactical mistake. Unprofessional as it was, I wanted to see how he handled himself. I started off innocently.

“How come you always call me son?” I asked, as I bounced and pranced around our makeshift fight ring like Bruce Lee, adding in a few thumb to nose wipes.

“How old are you?” he responded with a question.

“I’m twenty-eight.”

“That’s why I keep callin’ you son.”

“How old are you?” I returned.

He wasn’t going to tell me. He was quick with his response, “None of your damn business.”

I replied with a smart-aleck answer. “Oh, you’re so old you don’t remember?”

“Is this a dance studio or a martial arts studio?”

“Why? You asking me on a date? Or you just looking for a little slap and tickle?”

“You tryin’ to talk smack to me, son? Next thing you know you’ll be getting all
8 Mile
on me. Come on; step up to the plate. The sooner I smack the frosting off your flakes the sooner I can start making lunch.”

We engaged one another with a few more tentative strikes.

“What’s for lunch, fried boot again?”

“First you insult me, then you insult my cooking. What’s next?” He was being rock solid.

I retorted with, “How about a good morning kiss?”

“How about brushing your teeth first?”

Kermit wasn’t going to be distracted. He struck at me hard.

“Time,” David shouted.

We stepped away from one another. After a moment we approached one another, and began the second round.

“Are you done with the psychological cow manure?” he asked.

“Indeed I am,” I warned.

This time we engaged one another in combat. Kermit surprised me. Though I was able to defeat him, he pulled out some moves I didn’t expect. He knew some French street fighting, known as
Savate
, and some
Krav Maga
of the Israeli Commandos. I was exhausted and the olive drab A-shirt I wore was soaked in perspiration. He had made me work for my victory.

After our match I congratulated him and expressed my honor in being able to compete against such a worthy opponent. When I questioned him on where he learned his techniques he simply responded with, “Even a cook needs to know how to defend himself.” I later found out he had been stationed in France for several years. Though I never did find out how he learned
Krav Maga
, he did teach me some of his moves. It was nice to learn again.

PART III

IN THE ABSENCE OF MAN

I. Aftermath

August 4
th
. Every generation has its tales of doom and ruin, but we were the first generation to cause its own destruction by deliberate action. Our hold on the planet had ended. Hours after we were gone the lights began to go out. After a few days, a cascade effect plunged the world into darkness.

* * *

Returning to the world we had once known was not as simple as stepping into the elevator, taking it up, stepping onto the train platform, and into the land of the dead. Darkness was our first enemy. Though I could see much more than the others, pitch black was still blinding. We had to make our way from the platform, down the stairs of the M 50 entrance, and through a tunnel that led us to the terminal.

There were inherent dangers in returning to the world above, aside from the living dead and transmutes. The sudden end of the world brought numerous problems for survivors. Captive wild animals, mainly apex predators, were a threat. Luckily for us Six Flags Wild Safari in New Jersey was far away, so we didn’t worry about lions in Times Square.

During our escape we avoided the chemical toxification period––a time when gases like hydrogen, used for crude oil refining, and chlorine, used at waste water treatment plants to purify sewage, polluted the world above. There were no oil refineries in Manhattan, but according to David, there were numerous waste facilities, including the largest sewage treatment plant in the state, a dozen toxic chemical companies, and several gas storage facilities in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, along Newtown Creek.

David warned us about radioactive fallout.

Though nuclear power plants had fail-safe measures in place to prevent a nuclear meltdown during a power failure, the emergency diesel-powered generators, which were used to keep cooling pumps running, failed once their fuel supply ran out.

There were no nuclear power plant facilities within the five boroughs, but three were very close, the closest being the Indian Power Point Station in White Plains, New York, just twenty-four miles north. Those destroyed plants had caused massive radioactive noble gases and radioactive fallout far worse than Chernobyl. Though a lot of the radioactive material had dissipated and seeped into the soil or had been washed down street drains, there was still a risk of contamination.

While Potassium Iodine, if taken in time, can effectively block the thyroid gland’s absorption of radioactive iodine, it is not a magic pill. There is no medicine that will effectively prevent nuclear radiation from damaging the human body, and there was also no Potassium Iodine, no radiation suits or detectors to be found at the GCC. We had no way of telling what the radiation level would be. That was until Sam held up his set of keys.