Warpaint

I couldn’t let his disapproval and worry color my session. I needed to stay focused, so I stopped looking at him, instead watching each person doing the exercises individually for a few seconds. I wanted to try and identify anything that would tell me they weren’t ready to leave the safety of the swamp and encounter people with guns and knives. I saw three possible suspects with weaknesses too easy to exploit - two of them girls - but needed to confirm my suspicions by watching some contact.



“Stop. Kicks now. One forward, one down, opposite leg. Go!” I watched as everyone kicked with one leg and then switched, using the heels of their opposite feet to stomp their imaginary adversaries.



They moved in perfect formation, even without me counting it out. The ones in back followed the ones in front, and the ones in front seemed to be following the lead of the guy farthest to my left.



Bodo.



I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he’d pre-planned this leadership role for himself. I wouldn’t put it past him to try and figure out a way to ensure his inclusion in the final candidate group.



“Bodo! Step out! The rest of you continue.”



Bodo’s hands dropped from their defensive position and he stood in place for a few seconds before moving to join the group of spectators off to the side. He looked confused at first and then slightly mutinous.



I turned my attention back to the group. They continued their maneuvers, but looked decidedly less organized. Several of them were casting glances over in Bodo’s direction.



That sneaky punk. He’s gotten everyone to follow his direction somehow. He was going to get it from me later.



“Stop! Okay, Bodo, get back in line.” I waited for him to get there before continuing, addressing the entire group again.



“Find two partners. Every group should have a large, medium, and small person in it. Go!”



I smiled to myself, thinking about what a mess they were about to make. My instructions were deliberately vague; I wanted to see how well they could organize themselves without any advance notice of my plans. I’d read somewhere in George’s journal that troops needed to be trained in developing immediate responses to unexpected contingencies. I figured there was no better time than the present to practice those skills.



Surprisingly, they didn’t mess it up as much as I had expected them to, but it was mainly because two people in the group kind of took charge and managed the formation of the partnerships: Bodo and Winky. I wasn’t sure if my plans had actually worked out or not with them taking such a central role.



I tried not to feel weird about Bodo and Winky standing so close together and smiling at each other as they found themselves agreeing on just about everything. I forced myself to look away, and my eyes inadvertently landed on Paci.



He was staring at me, a funny look on his face. I looked quickly at the ground then, trying to get my head back in the game so I could focus on what I was trying to do. I could see now for the first time very clearly why my dad had avoided it, spending most of his free time at the dojo, with me at home, or outside doing athletic activities. This relationship stuff was not easy at all.



Once the groups were all set thanks to Winky and Bodo, I pulled the first one out. It had Rob as the big guy and two others who were quite a bit smaller.



“The rest of you please move back. You, Rob, come over here. You, smaller guy, sorry I don’t know your name, go with Rob.” I left the smallest one on his own. I figured the littlest guys and girls would be the least likely to do well against the canners, so my goal was to pull as many of them out as possible in this first round. “Two on one. Little guy, you have to defend yourself as best you can. Last man standing stays on the final team.”



“Who are you calling little guy?” said the guy standing by himself, obviously offended.



Before I had a chance to answer, the medium-sized kid standing with Rob attacked, running at his partner full-out, leaving him no time to prepare. One minute the small guy was standing there looking at me, all pissed off, and the next he was on the ground on his back.



He shoved his opponent off of him, quickly using his arms behind him and his incredibly well-developed ab and back muscles to flip himself back up onto his feet.



His friend hadn’t been expecting that maneuver and was completely caught off-guard by the kick he received to his thigh that sent him to his knees in pain.



“Finish him!” I yelled, hoping the small guy knew I meant to end the fight but not to actually damage his partner. I watched as he grabbed the back of his friend’s shirt, pulling him up and sending a few knee strikes into his chest before throwing his gasping form back to the ground. He’d obviously paid attention to my fighting before. Knee strikes were some of my best moves, aside from the ball crusher and eye gouges.



I signaled Rob to move in, and he didn’t waste a second. I tried not to cringe at the picture of this big guy coming in after the little one. In the old, not-so-real-world of a qualified krav maga match, I wouldn’t even worry about it. Little guys took down big ones all the time, since they often moved quicker and had the advantage of surprise paired with the anything goes krav maga mentality. But here, I knew these guys were amateurs, limited by their lack of skill and knowledge. Odds were, Rob was going to pummel him.



Surprisingly, the little guy held his own. He darted in and out, getting jabs here and there on Rob, sending him spinning around as he tried to get his hands on him. It was only after suffering a couple of punishing blows to the back and head that Rob was finally able to grab the little guy and then essentially sit on him to keep from being taken down, bit by bit.



I called it a draw and walked over, offering my hand to help the very dirty and sweaty smaller guy up.



“What’s your name, little man?”



He grabbed my hand, stood up, and then spit off to the side in the dirt. “It’s Fohi. And stop calling me little man.” He let go of my hand, practically pushing it away.



“What’s that mean? … Fohi?” I asked, unable to stop smiling. He was a little badass and I loved it, almost the same size as Peter but more muscular by far.



“It means bee,” said Kowi coming up. He leaned in closer to my ear and said quietly, “Floats like a butterfly stings like a Fohi.”



I turned around so Little Bee wouldn’t see me laughing. A few seconds later I collected myself and got back to business. Fohi left to stand with Rob off to the side of the clearing.



The rest of the session finished with no other surprises. The smaller guys and girls in the other two groups went down as I’d expected them to, and now we were left with only one more group: Bodo and Winky, who didn’t have a third member with them. They moved to stand opposite one another in the clearing, both of them looking to me for instruction.



“We need a third,” I said.



“I’ll do it,” said Trip, walking over to stand at my side.



I looked up at him to ask him a question, but all his attention was focused on Bodo. He looked like he wanted to wipe the clearing with Bodo’s rear end.



Oh boy. This isn’t going to be pretty.



“Yeah, come on dare, pretty boy. Let me mess your face a little bit for you,” taunted Bodo.



Trip moved out to stand next to Winky, rolling his head around and flexing his chest muscles, glaring at Bodo the entire time. It reminded me of our match, the battle for control of the swamp, and I knew firsthand how close I’d come to losing that one. Bodo wouldn’t have a chance if Trip was mad enough.



I sighed resignedly. Even if I wanted to stop this match-up, I knew I wouldn’t be able to at this point. The roosters were crowing and the only thing that was going to un-ruffle their feathers was to let them get it out of their systems and decide once and for all who had the right to the bigger head in the swamp.



I could guess what Bodo was all about - he was jealous of Trip for some reason. Maybe because Trip and I had fought and he’d ended up respecting me in the end.



I knew it hadn’t come easy for Trip to let people know that, but he had never indicated that he liked me in any kind of romantic way, so I couldn’t figure out what he had against Bodo, unless it was just a guy thing that no one but another stupid guy could understand.



I stepped back, motioning for everyone else to do the same. These two were going to need more space, both of them already pacing, their eyes measuring each other up and ignoring the rest of us.



I gave Winky an apologetic look, but she just shrugged her shoulders, apparently not all that concerned about being caught up in the middle of this testosterone-fest. I could tell she was going to do the smart thing - let them beat the crap out of each other first and then jump in to deal with the leftovers.



She eyed them both warily, occasionally flicking her gaze to the left and right, looking for escape routes that would keep her clean but still in the ring. She was a natural fighter, that much was obvious.



“Partners ready? Last man or woman standing goes with us. Begin!”



***



Trip roared and rushed Bodo, head down like a bull.



Bodo was ready, grabbing him in a headlock and traveling backwards with him upright for several steps until they both fell. They went down in a pile of arms and legs, Trip on top.



Trip struggled to get free, his fists hitting Bodo in the ribs, but Bodo held on for dear life, using his legs to reach up and muscle Trip over onto his side and mashing his head in the dirt in the process. Bodo kicked him hard in the back of the thighs and calves with his heels, sure to leave some nasty bruises Trip would have to nurse tomorrow.



Trip got tired of eating dirt fast and managed to wiggle his head free of Bodo’s armpit. He came up swinging. He landed a hard right to Bodo’s face, and I winced at the contact. I hated to think of my boyfriend’s gorgeousness being messed up, but there was no way around it. These guys were serious.



I thought for sure it was over for Bodo when Trip got up and sat on him, pummeling his face, but Winky had other plans.



She ran across the open space and jumped on Trip’s back, digging her fingers into his eyes and pulling back as hard as she could, using her whole body as leverage. The small muscles of her arms bulged with the effort.



Trip let out a pained scream, letting her pull him back in an effort to ease the pressure from his sensitive eyeballs.



Winky let go long enough to kick him in the side of the head when he fell back, scrambling out of the way so she wouldn’t be trapped underneath him.



But she didn’t get enough distance between them. Trip reached out blindly, and caught her foot, gripping onto it and pulling hard.



Her legs flew out from under her, and she landed on her backside, hard. Her head bobbed down hard at the impact as the jarring force went up into her spine.



Winky kicked with both legs as fiercely as she could, trying to detach him, but he held on, pulling her closer and closer with several quick yanks.



He got his hands on her thighs and for a split second just sat there, holding on, trying to see through his teary eyes. And then he lifted up an arm and backhanded her.



She should have gone flying, but Trip held onto her thighs with his other arm, so she only whiplashed once before pulling herself back into a sitting position.



Trip had murder in his eyes, and I didn’t think he was even seeing her as a girl anymore.



Several guys moved in as if to intervene, but I held up my arm and yelled sharply, “No!” She was going to be hurt, that was for sure, but I knew she wasn’t in danger of being killed. Not yet anyway. And if I saw anything like that going down, I was ready to jump in and end it along with everyone else. “Let them play it out!” I added, watching the drama unfold. I wanted to see how far Winky could and would go to win this thing.



Bodo had gained his legs and scrambled over almost gorilla-like to come to Winky’s rescue. He threw himself bodily at Trip, giving his opponent a flying Superman punch. It slammed Trip onto his back, and Bodo landed nearly on top of him.



Trip lost his grip on Winky, and she rolled away, stunned from the backhanding but still with-it enough to fight for her survival.