Page 36 of His Obsession
I studied a woman playing a victim as she pushed the gun away with her hand, then turned to grab the attacker's gun and flipped them towards the floor. It seemed easy enough in slow motion until I watched Jake and his partner. His movements were fast, precise, and flawless, like a choreographed fight you’d see in the movies. He practiced the actions over and over without mercy until the rotation changed.
He was intimidating—this entire scene was intimidating.
I wouldn’t be able to master this. I knew I was a fighter, but only with words, not with actions. How could they expect me to dothis?I had hit more people in the last week than I had in my entire life and failed miserably.
Me: This is a little more than I can handle.
Alek: You’ve never been one to give up without trying. Give it a chance.
How would he know?
I was persistent, yes, but that was when it was something Iwantedto pursue. This felt like more of a necessity than a desire.
I observed the next scenario.
The objective was to remove the knife from the assailant’s hands before they stabbed you and took your money. Okay, that’s not part of the move, but that’s what would happen to me. The woman made a fist and backhanded the knife, hitting it with her knuckles, causing it to skid across the floor.
Jake practiced the move, but with more advanced steps of lunging and the breaking of limbs. It made me cringe in my seat as I heard imaginary bones breaking. A shudder rippled over my legs, and I needed to look away.
Jake came and sat next to me, resting his elbows on his knees, sweat dripping from his brow. “I’m sorry,” he said, clasping his hands together, still refusing eye contact.
“You’re sorry?” I’m sure the confusion in my voice was clear.
“I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“I’m glad you did,” I confessed. “I’m sorry too. I’ve been kept in the dark for too long, and I didn’t realize the bridges I attempted to burn to get the answers I want.” It was a sad fact for me to accept.
“If I could tell you, I would.”
“Thanks.”
“You don’t think differently of me?”
My eyes widened, shocked that he would ask or even care what I thought of him.
I give him a little nudge with my shoulder. “Oh, no. I totally think you are bat shit crazy now.” I laughed.
He stood. “All right,” clapping his hands together, “you’re up, the class is over. We get to use the floor for thirty minutes, and then they’ll close.” Back to business as usual. He stepped down from the bleachers and put his hand out to help me. I took it and hit the blue mat.
“You understand that was a joke. Right, Jake?”
“Liz, you like to hide behind humor and sarcasm to escape having uncomfortable conversations or situations. I asked you a serious question, and you diverted with humor. If you think I’m crazed, that’s fine, I don’t need your approval. I just wanted to know what you were thinking.”
Did I do that, hide behind humor and sarcasm? It wasn’t behavior someone had ever pointed out to me before.
“Liz, get out of your head. Let’s get some moves in before they close up.”
I nodded.
“Okay, I’m going to show you how to get someone’s hands off you,” he said, putting his hands on my hips and moving me into position. “Now, when I come at you, I want you to take a step back.” He moved his hands to my shoulders and pushed me back. “And plant your foot, knocking your opponent off his center of gravity. Put your forearms up like you are blocking a punch and cross them.”
I did as he said. I put my foot back and crossed my arms like a cheap version ofWonder Woman.
“Good, now swipe your arms up and out, hitting my arms away from you. Do it slowly, and then we’ll repeat it,” he said.
Being this close to Jake was weird, given the argument we just had, plus his face was so close to mine. If I made one wrong move, we'd be smashing faces. I tried not to take in his face's details, but I couldn’t help but notice the small scar on his left eyebrow, and I wondered how he got that.
“Okay, like this?” I asked, lifting my crossed arms as high as possible and then pushing his forearms away with mine.