Dancing in the Starlight: Part 7

[Gael]

When I was fourteen, Master Qing decided it was time for me to display my talents upon a larger stage. To that effect, he and I, along with Darien and Jennifer, traveled to Montreal for a martial arts display and tournament. When we arrived, I realized it was the North American Championships. He had me enrolled in both the breaking demonstrations, skills display and the actual, full contact tournament. That last, while I felt confident enough to be in, required some string pulling on Master Qing's part as the entrants had to be over eigtheen years old.

 

It was Darien that came up with an inventive solution after listening to the person checking applicants in. Pulling a pen from his pocket, he asked me to sit down and show him the soles of my shoes. I saw him scribble something one shoe, then the other and saw Jennifer giggling behind him and Master Qing smiling like a Buddha.

 

"Now, when he asks, just say 'yes,'" Darien told me. "You won't be lying."

 

Perplexed, I just nodded after Jennifer nodded as well with a big smile. I'd learned by then that Darien was a lot like Master Qing even as he was very different. Both would have me doing things for reasons I could not figure out until later.

 

Stepping up to the desk, the man on the other side looked at me, "You sure you are over eighteen?"

 

"Yes, Sir," I answered. I managed to not stammer or stutter or blush and even held his gaze as he eyed me warily. Finally, he nodded, "Sign here..."

 

So I did.

 

When we got to the area for people getting ready to perform, I sat down and looked at the bottom of my shoes. On the bottom of each one was a 'one' and an 'eight.'

 

I hadn't lied. I was over eighteen.

 

"He never did ask anyone if they were over eighteen years old, Miriya," Darien said, chuckling. "He always asked, 'Are you over eighteen?' And you were, more literally than anyone else."

 

I managed to stop laughing a minute or two later and thanked him.

 

"Alright, go out there and make us proud," He said at last.

 

First up was the breaking demonstrations.

 

I've seen similar here on Paquin at some of the carnivals; strongmen and 'mystics' breaking stacks of boards or blocks of concrete and I'll admit it is still rather impressive to see someone doing a quick strike that breaks through a dozen or more boards in a single strike. But I also know the trick of it. The boards, or concrete blocks, are stacked with little piecs of wood inbetween to act as spacers; perhaps a centimeter for each gap. That changes the leverage needed and you don't need much more force to break a dozen than you do a single board; you simply need to maintain the momentum that broke the first and you'll follow through on the rest.

 

I didn't bother with the wood. White pine about two centimeters thick can be broken with a hard glance. The concrete cinder blocks aren't much harder as long as you remember to strike just to one side or other of the center support. I went over to where half a dozen were breaking stacks of concrete slabs about five centimeters thick. And the crowd was clapping quite loudly for these muscular men that were forcing a fist through five blocks...with the spacer sticks.

 

I was announced and I walked over to the stack set before me. Bowing, I lifted each block off, removed the spacers then set the blocks one on top of each other; dead flat.

 

"What..." one of the judges started to ask but I had already taken my stance. The slabs were sitting on top of cinder blocks with the top of the stack coming to just above my knees with me standing straight. I crouched a bit to plant myself firm on the platform, set my palm on top of the top block then raised it up to shoulder height. In my crouch that might have been about sixty or seventy centimeters from the stack.

 

A gathering of myself, an explosive exhalation and a downward strike...and my open palm forced itself through twenty-five centimeters of concrete.

 

I bowed to stunned silence and left the stage.

 

The man who had been the reigning champion saw me and saw a challenge in my expression that I didn't think was there. He also massed at least twice my own fifty-five kilograms, probably even more. He went back over, got another stack set up, also without the spacers, and took up the same stance as me.

 

He frowned. He scowled. He glared. But the slabs weren't white pine and, thus, weren't about to part for just a glance. Finally he crouched down and, I must admit, his form was perfect. He set is palm on the top block. He raised it up to shoulder height; probably ten centimeters higher from the stack than my own stance provided. He gave a terrific shout and brought his palm down.

 

The top slab broke in two. The second one cracked most of the way through...

 

To his credit, he did not shout again as he realized he'd broken several bones in his hand and wrist; even after he was off stage and the on-scene medics were wrapping his hand.

 

Nobody else tried to match my display.

 

Master Qing decided that I would perform a kata in the mantis style for my display.

 

I loved Mantis.

 

In all my practices, Master Qing would tell me 'make large, slow circles. You can always move faster, or make smaller circles, but you'll never be able to go slower or larger unless you practice like that. Once he started teaching me Mantis, he always urged me, 'Faster! Faster!'

 

So I went faster...

 

I was disqualified.

 

The judges felt that my snapping my fingers during the strikes 'lacked the due respect to the form.'

 

I started to argue that I wasn't snapping them; no more than the end of a whip snapped its fingers at the end of its strike.

 

"Don't bother, Miriya," Master Qing told me, "They won't believe you even if they could think such a thing was possible."

 

The full contact was just about all practitioners of karate and tae kwon do. And I didn't see one person who wasn't wearing a black belt. At least not until I looked in a mirror. The pants of my gi were held up by a drawstring in the top and my top was simply buttoned. No belt.

 

It was also all men and I don't think any of them were younger than their twenties. Again, except for me.

 

"Don't expect this to be like the stunt you pulled with the bricks," One of them told me. He'd also been in the breaking display...but not the one that broke his hand. He wasn't quite that big, but he was big enough. "Bricks don't hit back."

 

"Snake," Master Qing told me, "And be slow..."

"Yes, Master Qing," I replied.

 

So, I was slow. I was slow and I was low to the ground and I was never where they were trying to land a punch or a kick or grab me for a throw. Each contest was for two points; a point being getting your opponent out of the designated area on the floor mats or down on the ground from punch, kick or throw. I never once struck above the knees, but my strikes were with palm or fingertips or feet...and down they'd go.

 

After five rounds, I was in the final...against the fellow that warned me about not trying my 'stunt' with the bricks.

 

"What kind of freak are you?" He asked me.

 

"You may go fast now, Miriya," I heard Master Qing tell me before I got a chance to answer. "Oh, and tell him what you're about to do..."

 

"Yes, Master Qing," I bowed to him then turned back to my opponent.  "I will do a leg sweep, Sir. You will do one and a half flips and land on your head and break your neck. Don't worry, though, I'll catch you before you do that last."

 

"What the hell do you think you're..." Was all he got out before I moved. In an instnt, I'd dropped, spun my leg around in a leg sweep that caught the back of his legs mid-calf. He spun once as his legs went out from under him, then half-way 'round again and was just about to hit his head at just he right angle that his neck would break...

 

"Lose some weight, please?" I told him as I held him just long enough to stop the momentum of his spin and let him land down onto the mat on his shoulders instead of head.

 

He just stared up at me, eyes large in shock...and more than a bit of fright....as I stepped off of the mat and forfeited the final round.

 

Yes, my beloved siblings, at that age, I was a monster...