Chapter 12
The next morning Jeremy sat by the fire and watched Avon twirl the tree limb as if it were a sword. Jeremy had agreed to no PT while camping and he was practically overjoyed to see Avon continuing her sword training. It would keep her limber while building her strength and agility. Avon's confidence was increasing as well. Jeremy knew Avon would need to be comfortable wielding a sword if she were ever placed in a situation in which she would need to defend herself.
Avon was twirling the tree limb slowly and gracefully. She was imitating what she had seen Iramy do. Avon looked relaxed yet focused. Her mind and body were working together in total synch.
Jeremy watched Avon for several minutes intrigued by her grace and elegance. The routine was beautiful. Avon was beautiful. Jeremy thought back over the last eight weeks and smiled remembering the girl he first met and the woman he was now watching. So much had changed. Avon had changed. While difficult to admit, he had changed and Avon was the reason the change. While he had been pushing her physically, she had found a way to remind him he did have a heart. He wasn't just a cold, calloused and emotionless soldier.
Jeremy stood. Putting weight onto his injured leg, he winced. While the pain was not extreme, he had forgotten about it. And without a regenerator, the wound would have to heal on its own. Jeremy reached down, quickly checked the dressing and then walked towards Avon.
"Care to spar?" Jeremy called out as he approached.
"How's your leg?" Avon asked, noticing Jeremy favoring his injured leg.
"It's fine," Jeremy replied. "The glue is holding it closed and there's no new bleeding. It feels good to move around. I'm bored."
"Only if you're sure," Avon agreed with a tone of apprehension. "But if you reinjure your leg, we stop."
"Agreed," Jeremy nodded as he picked up the second faux sword.
"I want to work on my swing," Avon suggested. "I need to work on swinging hard."
Jeremy chuckled. "Like when you need to disarm someone or when beheading your enemy?"
"I'm sure I'll never need to decapitate anyone, so let's practice disarming."
Jeremy nodded again. "So I'll just stand here and you try to knock the stick out of my hands."
Jeremy took his stance, holding the tree limb firmly in both hands. Avon twirled her entire body around and hit Jeremy's sword as hard as she could. Jeremy's arms and sword moved, but Jeremy had successfully held onto it. "Try again," he instructed.
After several futile attempts, Avon began to admit defeat. "Don't give up," Jeremy urged. "Pretend you are playing stick ball. You have to follow through on your swing."
"What the hell is stick ball?" Avon shrugged. Her tone clearly showed her exasperation.
"You've never played stick ball?" Jeremy asked, now amused.
"I'm guessing that is a rhetorical question seeing as I don't even know what it is?"
"Oh princess," Jeremy smiled. "You have led quite a sheltered life. Maybe it's because you are a girl."
"I am not a princess!" Avon screamed. "And in case you haven't noticed, I am a woman, not a girl!"
"But you swing like a girl," Jeremy laughed. "I think we need to eat breakfast and then spend the morning teaching you a game played in the streets of the slums. Have you ever played stadium ball?"
"I've seen my daddy play it in a halo suite."
"Well, in the slums we didn't have access to Halo suites or simulators and we certainly didn't have sports parks. We had to make do with what we had. We played a game similar to the ancient game of stickball. But we used old broomsticks or whatever piece of wood or pipe we could find and stones. We didn't have a bouncy ball."
"It sounds dangerous," Avon grimaced.
"A little but it was still fun," Jeremy chuckled. "Getting hit with a two inch rock can hurt like hell. I surely received my share of bruises and knots on the head while growing up."
"So I gather you're going to teach me how to play stickball?"
"I just need to teach you how to swing and hit the rock. The follow through is the most important thing. You can't just make contact, you have to continue the swing if you're going to disarm your opponent. It's just as important when attacking. You have to inflict as much damage as possible. Kill or be killed."
"So this is about me defending myself?"
"Being graceful like Iramy is nice but it won't keep you alive," Jeremy stated, his tone serious and stern. "I'm sure Iramy learned how to defend herself first."
Avon took a deep breath. She knew Jeremy was accurate in his assessment. While she just wanted to have fun, once again Jeremy was eliminating her fun and replacing it with a life and death lesson. Everything he did, everything he was teaching her was about being a soldier, a super soldier, like him.
Avon didn't care about learning how to kill someone. All she wanted to do was knock the fake sword out of Jeremy's hands. She smiled inwardly just thinking about how good it would make her feel when she did. She smiled bigger at the thought that he would be teaching her how to do it.
Jeremy scouted the river bed until found several round stones perfect for stickball. He slipped them into his pocket and walked back to Avon. Picking the tree limb up and plucking a stone from his pocket, he smiled. "Normally you would toss the stone up into the air and hit it like this," Jeremy demonstrated, the rock landing in the river. "But I need you to learn to swing with both hands. Later you can work on a one-armed swing."
Jeremy place both hands around the faux sword and took a stance as if a stone or ball was about to be pitched to him. "Start with the sword up and behind your shoulder and swing. But don't stop once you hit the stone; keep going." Jeremy took several swings to demonstrate. "Your turn," he offered as he genuflected.
Avon tried to emulate Jeremy. She failed. "Keep your sword level with your shoulders. You're swinging towards the ground." Jeremy moved closer to Avon to adjust her grip and stance.
"You can't touch me," Avon sneered. Jeremy shook his head from side to side and backed away in defeat. Avon tried again; her swing stopping mid torso.
"Let the sword continue. Don't stop mid-swing. Turn at the waist. Get your shoulders and back behind the swing."
Avon took several more swings; each one better than the last. "Now let's play ball," Jeremy laughed. Jeremy stepped back and pulled another stone out of his pocket. "Let's see if you can hit the rock," he chuckled. "Just keep your eye on the rock and hit it."
Jeremy pitched the first stone, a slow underhanded pitch. Avon swung and missed. She swung again and missed again. After the third missed stone, Jeremy could see her angst increase. "Just relax and watch the rock; connect with the rock."
"I am watching the rock," Avon snarled.
"Try again."
Avon was angry. She swung as hard as she could. The faux bat nicked the rock and it bounced up and hit her on her forehead. "Ouch!"
Jeremy fought not to laugh. But he didn't fight long. "Now you're officially a stickball player."
"That hurt," Avon snarled again, reaching up to check for blood and to rub the small knot.
"Yes it does," Jeremy agreed. "Now let's try again. But this time, control your swing. Hard is not better."
Avon took a deep breath and tried to control her anger. Finally, she nodded. Jeremy pitched again. Avon watched the rock; she watched it like it was a mosquito about to attack. She swung. The bat connected with the rock. The sound of the wood hitting the rock surprised both Avon and Jeremy. Avon's eyes went wide. Jeremy's eyes went wider as the rock hit him in his forehead. "Damn it!" Jeremy screamed.
Now it was Avon's turn to laugh. "Hurts, doesn't it."
"You did that on purpose!"
Avon laughed even harder. "Yea, right, like I've been playing this game all my life. I can't help it if the first time I hit the rock, it hits you. You should have ducked."
"I was too busy watching the look on your face when you actually hit the
rock. It was priceless."
"Sounds like it was your fault then. You should have ducked."
Jeremy opened his mouth to refute Avon's statement, but stopped. He knew how dangerous stickball could be. He should have been on guard for Avon hitting the rock. He should have ducked.
"No more rocks," Jeremy announced. "Let's just go back to disarming. We're about out of first aid supplies. But your swing is much better. Try knocking my sword out of my hand," Jeremy suggested. "Just try not to hit me in the face. One knock on the head is enough for one day."
"I can't make any promises," Avon chuckled, a mischievous grin on her face.
"I think you've already exacted revenge," Jeremy reminded her as he rubbed the small knot on his forehead. "I'm glad there wasn't any blood. I really don't believe the saying that women like scars."
"Not really," Avon confirmed. "But the stories behind them can be good."
"Yea, just what I need - a story about getting scarred by a rock playing stickball. That's sexy."
Avon was taken aback by Jeremy's proclamation. "You're worried about being sexy?"
"Maybe in about ten years," Jeremy laughed. "I still need to get a couple of promotions under my belt. I don't need to leave my wife a widow or have my children grow up without a father."
"So you do want a family."
Jeremy paused before answering and then he nodded. "Yes. After spending the past two months with you and Iramy, in a house, yes I would like to have a family. I just want to be able to balance my career with ICE without sacrificing my home life. I don't know how your father has done it for so many years."
"I'm sure it's been difficult. There have been times when he's been gone for months at a time, but he tries to stay in contact. He tries to stay involved in my life."
"But you've wished things were different?"
"At times yes, but he's made sure I had Iramy and other good people around me. I had a good education and a comfortable home. I just wish I had more friends, more people I was close to."
"But you know everyone of influence."
"True, but are they my friends?"
Jeremy did not reply. He understood. "It's been a long time since I had a best friend. I've only had one in my life. But I knew he would do anything for me. Everyone should have someone like that in their life."
"Maybe someday," Avon sighed, sad.
"Maybe today," Jeremy suggested. "I know our relationship is supposed to be one of trainer and trainee..."
"Don't you mean Captain and Cadet?"
"Yes, you are a Cadet and I am a Captain, but when this assignment is over, I would like us to be friends. Will you be my friend?"
Avon giggled. "I guess we have to start somewhere."
"So next month, we will become friends. In the meantime, we train." Jeremy adjusted his stance and smiled. "Hit me with your best shot."
Avon approached. She stared Jeremy in the eye and swung. She swung as hard as she could. Jeremy held on as tightly as he could. Both were determined. Jeremy grunted as Avon's faux sword hit his. Jeremy could feel the reverberation all the way up his arms. He could hear the crack of his sword as Avon continued her swing, causing his sword to break. Jeremy jumped back as the top half of the limb toppled towards him.
"Are you trying to kill me," Jeremy screamed.
Avon had felt the resonance of the wood rebounding up her arms and the sting in her palms as the two limbs collided. "Wow! I can't even imagine what real swords would feel like; metal on metal."
"I'm sure it would be much louder," Jeremy suggested. "And they wouldn't have been any bounce back. Fighting with real swords is going to be interesting."
"Maybe Iramy will let us use the real ones when get home."
"Maybe."