Warpaint

I stood up and spoke to Peter quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “Peter, do me a favor. Go back to our hut and find me a guy. Any guy will do.”



“You don’t want to use me?”



“No. You’re too much like a girl, it’s not going to work.”



He sighed. “Do you have any idea how insulting that is?”



“Yes, and I’m sorry. But I’m impatient and running out of time here. Every minute I don’t train these girls is another step towards one of them losing a fight like Celia did.”



He rightly guessed that this was not the time to argue with me, and left without saying another word. While he was gone, I decided to attack the situation head-on and stop ignoring the elephant in the room.



“How’s Celia doing?” I asked Coli.



“Not good.”



“So she’s still alive.”



“Yes. But she’s not talking to anyone. And she’s sick.” Coli’s tone made her sound more vulnerable now.



“Do you have antibiotics?”



“Yeah. We have some. But she doesn’t want them.” Her voice got rough and she looked down at her hands in her lap. “She’s trying to die.”



“I hope you’re denying her attempts.”



“We are. But it isn’t pleasant, having to force her to accept the medicine.”



“That sucks. Has she been able to tell anyone where she was being kept?”



“I think so. Kowi talked to her. He’ll discuss it tonight.”



“Good.”



My next thought was interrupted by the sounds of Peter and Bodo crashing through the trees and brush. I could hear Peter talking.



“I told you, she needs your help with something. I don’t know what it is.” The devious smile Peter was trying to hide behind a mask of innocence didn’t fool anyone in our group for a second, but I don’t think Bodo noticed. He was too busy staring at all the girls. Some of them were quite beautiful, and I suddenly felt really plain.



“Hello, girlss,” said Bodo cheerfully. “I hear you needt some helping from a big strong guy. I guess dat’s me.” He rubbed his chest through his t-shirt and then looked at me. “Hello dare, Bryn. What do you want me to do? Show dem my moofs? Becausse dat’s definitely not a problem. I can do dat.” He did a couple karate chops that would have had my father shaking his head. Bodo had absolutely no finesse at all.



“Uhhh, no. That won’t be necessary,” I said, standing. “Girls, please get up and move back a little so I can have some room here. I’m going to have Bodo demonstrate an attack so I can show you that move I mentioned earlier.”



Peter self-consciously covered his crotch again. I motioned with my head for him to get the heck out of the way, trying to tell him silently with a frown not let Bodo see what he was doing.



The girls stood back, watching attentively.



“Okay, Bodo. I need to you attack me.”



“What?” he said, laughing a little bit, a big smile on his face along with a look of confusion.



“Attack me. Come at me. I need to demonstrate something to the girls.”



“But I don’t want to hurt you, Bryn.”



“It’s not a real attack, first of all, and second, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. Now come on. Just play-attack me.”



“I could hurt you if I really wanted to,” said Bodo, his smile disappearing to be replaced by a cocky expression.



“No. You couldn’t. We’ve already established that several times over. Now get over here and attack me.”



He thought he was going to fool me by first talking me to death and then following it up with some crazy sneak attack, but I was totally ready for him, since he’s about as sneaky as a bull in a china shop. I think I knew what he was going to do before he even did, his thought process was so obvious. He spouted some more nonsense and then suddenly came charging at me, planning to put me into a bear hug.



I met him halfway, jumping to the side, slamming his arm down at the wrist, and reaching up to gouge him in the eyes. I did it gently - not enough to hurt him seriously, but enough to temporarily blind him.



“Aaaaahhh!” he yelled, his forward momentum still carrying him a few steps, but haltingly since he was unable to see. “My eyess!” He stopped and put his hands up to his face, bending over slightly.



“Now that you have your attacker blinded. Your next move is to finish him.” I walked over swiftly and heard Bodo say, “Finish him?” in a weak, confused voice, just before I kicked him behind the knee to drop him down and then drove three knee thrusts up into his chest. I sent him to the ground with a hammer strike to the upper back.



He laid motionless on the ground, but I think it was more for effect than anything. I hadn’t really hit him hard at all.



The girls didn’t seem to notice that I held back a little, though. They just stood there, looking stunned. Even Coli.



“Holy shit, did you see that?” asked one of the girls.



“She blinded him,” said another.



“Man, you aren’t messing around,” said Coli. “I thought you liked that guy.”



“I do. But this is war, girls. If someone attacks you, anything goes. I didn’t get to show you the nut crusher this time, but we’ll do that in our next session.”



“No,” moaned Bodo from the ground. “No more. Pleasse. My nuts are all I haff left.”



Peter came over and helped him up.



Bodo’s eyes were watering, and he kept wiping them, talking to me as he walked by. “Wow. Dat was very effectiff, dat eye poking thing. It’s better dan a ball kick dough. For me, I prefer dis eye thing. I’ll just do da ball one later. Anudder day, maybe.” He limped away, Peter helping him along.



I could tell he was totally over-acting, and I seriously appreciated what he was helping me do. Somehow he’d figured out that these girls needed to see me bring down a bigger guy, to show it could be done. And it was good that I had used my friend and not one of theirs as my crash-test dummy, since it left the whole insider-outsider bias off the table. Anyone could kick Peter’s butt - even Buster - so he was a terrible choice for an attacker.



Bodo didn’t realize it, but he had just volunteered himself as my new training partner for the girls’ groups. I was hoping he would be as thrilled about it as I was.



I didn’t have any trouble getting the girls into the training session after the guys left. Before long, I had them eye gouging, nut crushing, palm thrusting, and forward punching; and they were having a ball. Maybe it was the exercise, maybe it was the teamwork - or maybe it was taking charge and not accepting the victim role anymore. But whatever it was, it amped up the energy of our group a hundredfold. I used one last nugget of temptation to push them all the way over to my side.



“After I get you girls in shape, we’re going to challenge each other to matches, and then eventually, the guys. My goal is to have you taking down guys like Paci, Jeremy, and even Trip and Kowi by the time we’re done here.”



Coli stopped punching her partner’s palms and said, “How long will that take?” Her face was red and sweat was pouring down her temples.



“About two months. Depends on how focused we can be in our training.”



She nodded her head and went back to punching her partner with what looked like renewed energy. I smiled at her form, noticing already that she was a natural.



The response from the other girls had me practically glowing. They had taken one look at their leader Coli, one hundred percent focused on landing her punches and using the technique I had taught her, and doubled their efforts. It was poetry in motion, as my dad used to say.



***



After ninety minutes of work, when the girls were almost ready to collapse from exhaustion, I let them stop, promising them it would be tougher next time when we met again in two days. I ran them through some cool-down stretches and said some brief goodbyes before walking away. Coli went with me back in the direction of my hut, leaving the girls behind.



“What’s up?” I asked, not wanting to pressure her to talk, but curious why she wasn’t walking in the opposite direction like everyone else.



“I … well … first I wanted to say thanks. For the training and stuff.”



“You’re welcome.” I didn’t know if the ‘and stuff’ actually meant there were other things she was grateful for, but I decided not to worry about it. I knew even this gesture was hard for her and her prickly personality to make.



“And I also wanted to know if you want to come see Celia with me.”



“I’d love to.” I didn’t hesitate. I knew this invitation wasn’t given easily, and I really did want to check on my friend. I also could never lose sight of the fact that what I was doing in these sessions was for the purpose of getting these kids ready to go after the ones who had not only injured Celia’s body but her mind also. Anything I could do to help them with that I would, including talking to Celia and finding out as much as I could about the canners.



We walked for a ways in silence. I kept thinking that Coli was going to say something else, but she didn’t. She was always giving me the impression that she was a tortured soul, like she has a lot of things bothering her and no one to talk to about them. But I told myself that this was ridiculous. She had Kowi and who knew how many other relatives and friends around her she could unload on if she wanted to; she just chose not to for whatever reason.



A couple minutes later, we arrived at a hut that had been set up as a type of clinic. I could see shelves with baskets on them, filled with supplies. Celia was lying on a mattress like mine, covered in a brown blanket. Her face was gray.



Coli stopped at the entrance, gesturing with her chin for me to go inside.



I walked in softly, trying not to wake Celia. Stopping and sitting down on the floor at her bedside, I watched her breathing. Her chest was rising and falling at a much faster rate than I would have expected from a sleeping sick person.



“Celia. I can tell you’re fake-sleeping.”



Her eyes fluttered a little but didn’t open.



“That’s fine. Keep pretending. I’ll just sit here and talk. You’re much more interesting when you don’t say anything, anyway.”



Her lips pressed together, but her eyes remained closed.



“I know you want to die. I get that. But I have a better idea.” I waited to see if she would respond, but there was still nothing.



“I know you think that death would bring relief, but you’re wrong. It’ll only bring pain. Everyone here needs you to live. You’re a symbol now, whether you like it or not. Live, and you give the entire indian nation hope. Die, and you’ve turned them all into victims. It’s a heavy responsibility. I don’t blame you for wanting to chicken out and say ‘screw you’ to your whole family.”



Her eyes popped open. “Shut up,” she croaked out.



“No, seriously, I mean, what do you care? You’ll be gone. Let someone else clean up the mess. Why should you have to do it?”



“It’s not like that,” she whispered.



I shrugged. “That’s how I see it. And I’m sure I’m not alone. But, whatever. It’s your life. Give it to the canners if you want.”



A tear trickled down her temple, running towards her ear.



I reached over and wiped it away with my finger before continuing. “Ooor, you could stop lying here marinating in your pity party sauce, and get better so we can go after those animals. Doesn’t that sound fun? Killing canners? I mean, maybe we should be deciding who lives and who dies and not them. I think we’re better qualified to make those decisions since we’re the sane ones.”



“It’s no use. They have weapons.”



“So do we. I brought some military-grade with me, and we can get more if we need to. But I can train you, Celia. I can turn you into a weapon. And then the only way anyone will ever get to you again is with a gun, and they’ll have to kill you to stop you. That’s what you want, anyway, right? I could totally hook you up with that glorious death match you keep dreaming about.”