Agent Jack Knight: The Beginning

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  “Here let me help you,” Shun offered me his hand, grinning as usual from ear to ear.

  “That’s very considerate of you,” I replied sarcastically, allowing him to pull me up “seeing as how you’re the one who put me there.”

  “Be aware of everything around you,” Mr. Suzuki’s voice was in my ear before I even realized he was beside me. He was so silent it was almost creepy. I wished I could do that. “All of your senses must be in tune with your surroundings. Concentrate. Do not allow yourself to be distracted.”

  I took my stance again, Shun somewhere behind me. I heard a whisper of sound not even a split second before Shun attacked. My reactions were quicker, but incorrect; I still ended up on the floor.

  “You must learn to use the attack of your opponent against him,” Mr. Suzuki said from behind me. “Do not meet force with force. Find his weakness and exploit it. Try again.”

  “Notice he said ‘try’,” Shun laughed.

  I ignored his ribbing—part of his strategy always included distraction—recognizing it for what it was, a leftover from the days when he constantly lost to his brother. Honestly, with me he didn’t need it.

  After ending up on the mat several more times, Shun’s father moved us into punching exercises—my personal favorite…with my previous boxing experience, I had to admit, I excelled at that particular part—and kicking, also something I looked forward to, although it had taken quite a while for me to feel comfortable using my feet, and bare feet at that, as well as using my hands.

  I was grateful to Mr. Suzuki for allowing me to join Shun’s private instruction in exchange for help around the place. I could never have paid for lessons any other way, and the world of martial arts fascinated me.

  Mr. Suzuki had also needed a new sparring partner for Shun since his older brother had graduated from high school the year before and had moved back east to attend college, leaving Shun without one.

  Shun always told his father everything…well…almost everything…so after hearing about my propensity for getting into trouble as well as the training I had received as a boxer he decided to take me on and teach me in the same way he’d been instructing his sons.

  Shun was ecstatic that he was finally able to come out on top after years of being bested by his older brother. I, on the other hand, wasn’t used to being on the losing end. My confidence had been severely shaken at first.

  Gradually, I began to improve and Mr. Suzuki seemed pleased with my progress. I doubted that I would ever be as good as Shun since he had been training ever since he could walk, but I enjoyed it tremendously.

  Shun and I always trained in Mr. Suzuki’s personal training room—the room where Shun had taken me to meet his father that first day, the day of the bully convention in the alley—not with the many paying students he had. He used the huge room at the front of the building for those classes.

  At first, I was a bit disgruntled, wondering why his paying students were awarded the different belts and I wasn’t, but he had explained that they were there to learn traditional Judo and Karate used in competitions where the belts meant something. I wasn’t interested in competitions.

  Mr. Suzuki trained me as he had trained Shun and Shun’s brother using a combination of all the martial arts with emphasis on Ju Jitsu, known as the “gentle art” or “soft technique,” which I thought sounded like a sissy thing until the first lesson. Shun had literally wiped the floor with me while barely laying a hand on me.

  Feeling bruised in body as well as ego, I bull-headedly kept pulling myself off the floor to have another go, only to find myself immediately kissing the mats again. My attitude underwent a major overhaul that day and, from then on was eager to learn as much as I could.

  “Enough for today,” Mr. Suzuki declared. Although his paying students called him Sensei and he dressed in a gis for them, for our lessons he wore sweats and I called him Mr. Suzuki while Shun just called him Pop. “Tomorrow you will begin to learn to defend against weapons,” he announced casually. “Don’t tell your haha,” he winked at Shun.

  “When can we learn to use a sword,” Shun asked eagerly.

  “Don’t push it,” he warned, but his eyes were twinkling. “We’ll see.”