Taj's Early Years
Again Paul helped bring the next person through, also sparring for a long time, testing Violet further as I had him. I loved the way he could see the spirit of what I had tried to show him and use that in a different way with someone else.
Four of the students achieved first level silver, Paul and the youngest woman, Violet, were second level. I asked her to help him with the coaching and took a long swim for a change of pace.
When I returned, refreshed, Paul was word perfect on all the rules and bylaws. He had already designed and taught Violet his choreographed piece using ‘opposites’ as his theme.
That worked well as Violet, who almost matched him in height, had very dark skin and straight black glossy hair, contrasting with his pale skin and the blond waves of his high ponytail after he released his hair from its customary tight braid.
She wore all white to his all black and they demonstrated the moves beautifully for a perfect score from all five judges. I printed up all the certificates and handed them out in heavy plastic envelopes, including a special pale blue one with cherry print as a commemoration of Paul’s defeating me.
* * *
The same afternoon we combined all the karate classes and any interested savate or other students. I taught everyone three short basic Gōjū-ryū kata then three more in Kyokushin and Shotokan karate styles. Paul and I meticulously corrected everyone’s form, and shortly the breakthroughs began.
We brought everyone through the Gōjū-ryū and Kyokushin series before breaking for dinner. The whole class sped through the Shotokan kata in under an hour, so I taught more advanced kata in each style and we worked through all those within two hours. We stopped there.
I rang Armando who happily reported that his group had helped 540 people to break through the ten kata I had taught them, but weren’t sure where to go next. I said I’d see him tomorrow.
I asked my silvers to pack an overnight bag and accompany us to the big dojo tomorrow with 96 of the other students—all that could fit in our two buses.
Paul and I returned to Fermina’s for supper before he left for his lodgings.
* * *
A hundred and forty-three eager students turned out the next morning, four with bus-driving licenses and two with reliable large cars, so we all took off together. I sat in the front of the limo with Paul, as the back was crowded. I requested he put up the privacy screen so we could talk.
“I have to ask you another personal question Paul. This dojo has rather limited accommodation, mostly in pull-out curtained two-decker dormitory bunks with little privacy. Some of the extra guys will have to shake down on convertible sofas; charpoys, futons or hammocks.
“There are also several apartments. I’ve given up my 3-bedroom place for the male teachers and will take a 2-bedroom one which you can share if you’re planning on remaining celibate and avoiding entanglements.
“Nearly every woman in my dojo already has the hots for you. They’re all strong, fit and athletic and there’re more of them where we’re heading.
“If you take a one-bedroom flat, even with a locked door, there’s no real way of preventing several or more of the ladies getting at you tonight. So you won’t get much sleep and will probably be very jelly-legged tomorrow if you choose that option.”
“If I’m so irresistible, what will prevent their knocking on your door all night and keeping us both awake?”
“Me. I may be a small child, but I’m also the boss lady and I’ve already proven my toughness. You have my leave to go tomcatting if you want, but I need you fit enough to perform in class tomorrow.”
“Actually, I like my girls on the modest side. Predatory women frighten me. If they break in on us, I’ll jump in bed with you, and let you defend my honor.”
I laughed. “That’s fine. I’m accustomed to chaperone duties. I’m supposed to keep Fermina from straying before she remarries, and I get rid of her really horrible suitors so she has more time for herself.
Chapter 15
Upgrading the third Dojo
My stuff had already been moved into a smaller apartment with my name on the door. I asked for all the keys to it, gave one to Paul and locked the others in a password-accessed compartment of my computer.
Paul stuck close to me as we had a second breakfast before starting work.
All the partitions had been removed from the second martial arts floor, so even 714 students didn’t crowd it. Paul and I taught them all the kata he had already learnt except the last ones, then I did more, covering every savate move.
None of these were difficult, but many weren’t easy to get right, so learning them perfectly for life was the best way. I gradually introduced more of the difficult moves, the spins and sidesteps, while the class worked beyond the point of perfection more rapidly with each new exercise.
The silvers were now all so much faster, quite familiar with the perfect form and able to work at speed, but many of the others were catching up to them. I added Paul’s two new moves, the feints which had fooled me and all the new ones I had come up with to new kata.
It really appeared that the bigger the class, the faster the students learned everything, and learning by breakthrough gave them all perfect form in every move. The entire class was working at high silver level. Even Janine was at second Silver.
A week ago there had been fewer than a dozen silvers on the double continent, mostly firsts, two seconds, and only Horrie and I at third.
“Class, you now are all up to second level silver or higher. There’s nothing more I can teach you in Savate until after I invent some new moves.”
There were many smiles at that.
“Most of you still have to learn the various rules and standard requirements for each of the levels, participate in a series of conflicts and learn to referee and judge matches. That is drudge work which your various teachers can handle.
“Then you need to train as teachers yourselves and participate in sparring matches and competitions to develop your own style and condition your reflexes.
“I and several senior staff will be flying down to Buenos Aires shortly to bring this new miracle technique to my first dojo. A few of you who have current passports may be interested in joining us.
“You will have to pay your own way but I can get a good group discount off the airfare and get you billeted with gym members. We’ll be staying a week so you’ll have a little time for sightseeing too.
“Armando will probably ask you to write up how you feel about what we accomplished today. That is a new tradition he began in his dojo.
“What we have achieved this week has never been done before. It will revolutionize the teaching not only of savate, but of all the other martial arts, maybe even ballet and other dance styles. And you guys will be at the forefront of that.
“Tomorrow, I will be teaching three karate styles in the same intensive way, and we’ll see if we can cover the entire lexicon of moves in each genre. I’ll see you then.” I bowed to the class, received Armando’s thanks, signaled to Paul and we departed.
* * *
“There won’t be anything new to you in the rest of the class Paul. You’ve worked so hard and intensely, you probably need a break too.
“I’m going to lift some weights, take a quick shower then sit in the spa and let the bubbles massage away my kinks. We have two segregated saunas if that is more to your taste, or the heated pools, but I cannot guarantee you’ll be left alone there.”
“I’ll stick with you, if you don’t mind, Taj. I received forty-seven propositions while correcting and sparring today and I’m feeling quite nervous.”
“I’m sorry. That number of overtures amounts to sexual harassment. If I’m not around, stick with Violet. She’s happily married, but her sailor husband is away at present.
“Stay here a minute and I’ll tell her to spread the word that you don’t enjoy the attention. I will ban or fire any woman who tries it on again or attempts to wake us tonight.” I stepped back in the class, told Vi
olet and three other women I knew well, then returned.
“Come on, let’s pump iron.”
The staff knew I was coming and had already loaded the bar with my usual starting weights. Two new body builders looked horrified when they saw what I aimed to lift and started to come over, but were intercepted by the staff and warned away.
They stared in fascinated horror as I pressed more than they could handle and twice asked the spotter for more weights as I warmed up. I could have managed a lot more still, but only needed to stretch out my back. I always get self-conscious when anyone makes a big deal about my weights.
I did the leg press next until my muscles were straining, rode five miles on the exercise bike using the highest resistance setting, and that was enough.
Our flat had two showers, one over the bath and a separate cubicle one which I used. I washed the sweat out of my hair too. I’m not body conscious, and was pleased that Paul also was quite matter-of-fact about nudity as he handed me a towel when I was done.
I did sneak a few peeks to check on his blond chest hair which was sparse and almost invisible. I have a bit of a thing about men’s chest hair, perhaps because of the body builders’ shaving theirs off. To me a man looks incomplete without any. I had to remind Paul not to deodorize or apply cologne.
We donned our tiniest bathers and fluffy bathrobes and went down to the men’s spa to soak among those lovely hard bubbles.
I asked where he’d traveled with his current passport, expecting the Bahamas. Instead Paul had visited Easter Island and the Galapagos group to see the unique wildlife there, and we chatted about that.
I asked if he had other languages. He answered me in almost fluent French, so we used that for the rest of the day. Paul’s paternal grandmother was of French stock and his father had used the language with all his kids to whom he had access.
“We’ll probably be going to France soon. I want to set up a large gym and dojo there for Emil to run. With the publicity from my magazine stories, we should be able to gather at least a thousand students for another mass breakthrough upgrading.”
“So, are you trying for Paris?”
“No, land prices are too high there and I need a lot of floor space. I’m hoping for a large warehouse in a smaller city with a nearby University which teaches diploma courses in martial arts training.
“The students provide good part-time workers and during the holiday season, there would be loads of cheap accommodation available. That would be the ideal time to run our courses.
“I’d charge them five thousand dollars each for tuition and basic accommodation and we’d net at least five million for the weekend.”
“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the money.”
“Well France is the hub of Europe and the home of Savate and the various cane disciplines. I want to show the authorities there my innovations and what I’ve done so far on the syllabary.
“I’ve also invited several South American martial arts groups to send representatives to the Buenos Aires courses. I’m interested in seeing how the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu authorities will handle my teaching up to master level when, solely because of my youth, I am legally entitled only to wear the gray belt. I won’t be promoted to adult belts until I’m sixteen. Then I go to purple.”
“So I’d have to start at white?”
“Yes, everybody does. Officially you should stay white for a year, but I think we can fudge that. By the time we leave here you would be more than sufficiently knowledgeable to go straight to the brown because of being over eighteen.
“After another year you’d go to the black. But then, because of their conservative promotion system, you would need to stay at that level for a minimum of thirty-one years, just gathering extra stripes, like dan levels. And you wouldn’t be eligible for the ninth degree red belt until the age of sixty-seven.”
Paul snorted. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Not really. Very few people learn as fast as you and I do. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu is one martial art that doesn’t easily lend itself to breakthroughs. It’s all about flooring the other person as soon as possible, grappling, strangling, and using leverage, extreme pain, joint dislocations and nerve pinches to force them into submission quickly.
“Also the teaching is fairly informal. Weaker, smaller, and aged practitioners are encouraged to find different, often nasty, ways of achieving results that are easy for the strong.
“Many of the moves are extremely dangerous in unpracticed hands and can cause dislocations, spinal damage, ripped cartilage, ligaments and tendons, torn muscles, collapsed tracheas and death by strangulation.
“Most students are young men, notoriously hot-headed and hot-blooded, especially the Latinos and mixed races. Understandably, a large degree of emotional stability is required before a reputable teacher will show anyone those techniques.
“Ron used full force both times when I attacked him until he realized that he had broken through, and that realization came quite late. In BJJ, that reaction could easily have caused serious and permanent injury. I think Ron took up martial arts because of being bullied, so when attacked, his natural response was to lash out hard immediately.”
“Yes, you’re probably right there.”
“Did you see much of your Dad while growing up, Paul?”
“Yes, he often arranged to take a bunch of us out for the day. He seemed to be a good man. We kids all loved him.”
“Did you notice his making eyes at any woman while he was with you?”
“Nah, he actually seemed to be trying to avoid the ladies. Plenty of them were trying to catch his eye, and several even approached him . . . Oh lord, do you think he had my problem?”
“I think that’s likely. The poor man has been unjustly maligned and mistreated when it was the horny women at fault. I bet that sheriff was infertile—he never fathered any other child, did he?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Is your Mom a sweet shy type?”
“No, everything but. She’s probably the reason I avoid tough aggressive women.”
“I wonder if this crazy attraction thing might be caused by a pheromone you’re producing—I have read of something similar. Once we’ve identified it, we should also be able to find a way of covering it or changing its footprint so it no longer has the same effect.
“I’ll get my researcher onto it today. She should be able to find your Dad too so we can test him as well.”
“That would be a blessing—if we could turn it off. My life’s been rather difficult the last two years, since shortly after my twentieth birthday. Yet you’d think such a thing would have started earlier, as soon as I hit puberty.”
“It might be a survival mutation thing, cutting in when you’re old enough to provide for a harem and a large family. I wonder if some of the old harem masters had the same condition? Solomon was apparently irresistible to women.
“Paul, did any of your half-sisters respond to you too, or were they immune?”
“Insightful observation, Taj. I never thought of that. I used to hang around with several of the older ones who were good friends and they kept other girls away, so they must have been immune.”
“Yes, they’d have to be—as a protection against inbreeding. You should have told me earlier when I expressed interest in your half-siblings, I could have hired several of your sisters to look after you.
“If you think any of them would be interested in joining us and going to Buenos Aires, give them a ring and invite them, I should be able to get their passports rushed through. Come on, let’s get upstairs so you can call them.”
Chapter 16
Paul’s Sisters Join
Paul did well, persuading five of his half-sisters to drive out immediately. A sixth came too to take the car back.
Meanwhile Paul was removed to Galen for testing. Fluid and blood samples were taken from everywhere, and it was determined that the particular pheromone was testicular. Apparently other known human pheromones are mo
stly released through the armpits.
Galen even managed to produce a feasible temporary solution—a light elastic pair of transparent briefs which covered the whole area, as with a second skin and reduced the pheromone dispersal by at least ninety percent—some was still released through the breath and sweat. All that sampling and testing took just three hours.
That same day Maggie arranged passports for the two Evans sisters requiring them.
* * *
I commandeered the two-bedroom flat next door and with the pull-out sofa-beds, we squeezed them in, taking one girl, Lorna, in with us.
Lorna was perfectly happy with the other twin bed in Paul’s room. I watched as Paul set up a screen to give her a little more privacy.
“What’s your latest score, Paul?” she asked.
“Thirty four hundred and thirty-one,” he answered. Then seeing the shock on my face, “That’s book covers, Taj.
“I pose for book covers, which are mostly used by self-published authors for eBooks. I have thousands of available photos on my website for them to choose from. I keep a running score and also allow them to post the completed cover there, with a short blurb to advertise their book.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen two vampire books with you on the cover in a booklist, but I didn’t know you had a website too.”
“Sure do. Jimmy Thomas started the first Romance Novel Cover site, but there’re a few of us now. I’m the top vampire model, but I also do Vikings, Science Fictional warriors, Fantasy and Fairy fighters, Polar Bear and Arctic Wolf Weres, Romance, Erotica, Ballet and other genres. The actual studio work is usually boring, but I only need do an occasional shoot and the pics keep generating income forever.”
“Does the site maintenance take much work?”
“Only to input new images. The rest is automated. It even banks the takings each day and emails monthly figures to my tax man.”
“But wouldn’t so much exposure make you very recognizable?”
“Yes, it does. I used to be invited to appear at lots of conventions as a speaker and to give the attendants a chance to be photographed with me, but I’ve had to cut that back to daily drop-ins. I can’t stay at the convention hotels anymore.”