Playing by Ear (Country Roads #1) - Chapter 29

“What do you mean you have plans?” Ronda asked.

Rhonda had met me out by the parking lot and we were trying to work out plans for our next date. She’d suggested Sunday, which was already a pretty busy day for me but really the only day that weekend we could make it work. Saturday she had a family thing that looked like it was going late and Saturday I’d be in Ashville with Willie. Since Mom wouldn’t be okay with me going out after my set at the Blue Ridge when I had school the next day, the only option left to us was Sunday afternoon before my training session with Chef.

“Kat has a swim meet and asked me if I wanted to go.”

“And you said yes?”

“Yeah. We’re friends and you and I hadn’t made plans. I hadn’t really thought about how busy the weekend was going to be and I didn’t know you were going out of town on Friday.”

“So tell her you can’t go.”

“No. I get that it’s annoying and I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about our plans for this weekend before now. Had I known you were out of town on Friday I would have checked with you first, but we’ve never gone out Sunday afternoons before, so I didn’t think that we’d be doing anything.”

“I don’t care. I’m your girlfriend and she’s not. You can cancel with her and go out with me. I don’t even see why you’re friends with her. She’s so terrified of everything if you bump into her she might just break in half.”

“Now you’re just being mean. She’s my friend Rhonda and I already told her I’d go. I’m sorry you’re angry, but you could have let me know about your Friday plans too. We both failed to communicate, but that’s not her fault. We can work out a different time to go out or just miss one weekend. This is my last gig with Willie, so we’ll have more options next weekend anyways.”

“So you’re picking her over me, is that it? I didn’t think you were that kind of guy Charlie. I guess you’re not a one-woman man after all.”

Her face was flushed and her nostrils flared. She was furious. Unfortunately for her, she’d pushed the wrong buttons, and so was I.

“Pump the breaks right fucking now. Do you really want to get into this? How about we talk about who called Aaron and told him about the theatre party and their leftover booze. Who kept trying to get us to go to Karen Brooks’ party even though I made it clear I didn’t have any interest in spending any time with those people? Or why don’t we talk about what you and Aaron were discussing when they did show up at Cameron’s party?”

“Charlie, I …” she said, suddenly looking nervous.

“No. You wanted to have it out and play the martyr, so get back up on your cross princess. I’ve never been anything but honest with you. Kat’s my friend, and I agreed to go and support her at her swim meet. I keep my word and stay true to my friends. Several people have warned me about dating you and I’ve told all of 'em to go pound sand, because you’ve never been anything but good to me. I wouldn’t drop you just because someone else told me to and I won’t let my other friends down just because you want me to. It’s who I am, so you need to decide right now if you can deal with that.”

Rhonda looked on the verge of tears, all the anger gone.

“Charlie, I’m sorry. I didn’t actually mean any of it. I was just angry 'cause I really wanted to go out this weekend. I didn’t actually mean you were … I didn’t think you should …”

“Yes you did, Rhonda,” I said before taking a deep breath and collecting myself. “I apologize for how hard I was on you just then and I apologize for the cross thing. You need to understand, though, that I’m serious. I take my word and my friends seriously. As long as we’re together, I’ll never cheat on you, not in real life and not in my head. I’m a one-woman man. What I’m not going to do is abandon my friends or let you make my decisions for me. I’ll discuss important things with you if I can, but I’m not going to let you dictate who I’m friends with or what I do. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” she said in a softer voice, almost like the one Kat used when she was nervous or scared.

“Hey, you’re still my girlfriend and you still come first. I’ll try to talk to you about our schedule sooner in the week and make sure we’re on the same page. Okay?” I said, stepping towards her and taking her in my arms.

“Okay. I’m sorry I accused you of … whatever,” she said, putting her head against my shoulder.

“It’s okay,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “I get it. It’s tough not getting to spend every moment with me.”

“Shut up,” she said, with a sniffled laugh.

“Don’t you two look cute?” Hanna said as she came up, having missed everything leading up to that moment.

At training that afternoon, I convinced Chef to let me stop early.

“Why? You’re making good progress, but this isn’t a time to start slacking off.”

“I know, and I promise I’m not. Knowing you, you’ll make me work twice as hard as possible to make up for it.”

“Probably, so this better be good.”

“Well, I have a problem with a friend of mine. She told me some stuff today and … I don’t know how to deal with it. I know you’re not a shrink or anything, but you’ve dealt with a bunch of screwed-up kids over the years, so maybe you could give me an idea of how to deal with this.”

We went up to his apartment and sat down, since it was more quite there than just outside the kitchens. I broke down everything Kat said to me, leaving out names, except for Aaron. Her dating him and his animosity to me, as well as just the level of douchebag he was, complicated everything.

“Can I ask some questions?”

“Yes. She didn’t say this was a secret or anything, but I didn’t get her permission to share this with anyone either, so I’m kind of out on a ledge here. I might not be able to answer all of it.”

“Just answer what you can. My first question is, what is it you’re hoping to accomplish?”

“I’m not sure, really. All I know is this girl is letting herself get walked all over and taken serious advantage of. She wasn’t super specific, but I got the impression she’s done some things she isn’t very happy about, and she doesn’t feel like she has many other options other than to keep doing them. She’s my friend and I’d like to help her learn to stick up for herself.”

“You understand that might not be possible. I’m not a psychologist, but I’ve spoken to several in the past about some of the kids that end up working here, and we’ve dealt with some stuff like this before. Some people aren’t able to ever get over this. It really depends if it’s a neurological thing or something behavioral. If it is behavioral, maybe some kind of trauma in her past, it might be possible to mitigate it some, but there’s most likely no way to cure it. This kind of thing is managed, not cured. If it’s something neurological, it might be treatable. The best thing you can do is try and get her to talk to a professional.”

“I’ll try. She didn’t say it specifically, but I got the impression that she really hasn’t told very many people about this. I’m not even sure she understands why she does it herself. She knows she does it, but it’s like she’s accepted that’s the way it is.”

“If she opened up to you, that usually means she feels comfortable with you. That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m worried if I start pushing her to do something, she’ll close off again. She took a chance telling me, and the last thing she needs is someone else telling her what she should do.”

“That’s a point. Do you think you could get her to come see me? I might be able to arrange for a friend of mine better qualified in this area to sit with us. That way you’re not the one asking her for anything specifically.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks, Chef. I’m really out of my depth here.”

“You did the right thing, Charlie. The worst thing you can do is take on something beyond your ability to deal with, even if it’s with the best intentions. It’s why I’m going to have an actual expert here with me and not try to do anything myself either.”

“I’m just glad you know the people to call.”

“You have a good heart, Charlie. It’s the thing I saw in you when you first walked through my door, and you’re showing me how right I was. You just keep following your instincts. Don’t think that’ll keep me from pushing you tomorrow to make up for the time you missed today.”

“I had no doubt you would.”

By Friday I hadn’t spoken to Kat yet about coming to see Chef. I was honestly not sure how to approach it, so I’d kept putting it off. We’d finished our tutoring sessions for the week, so the next time I was going to see her was on Sunday. She’d probably have family or other friends there, which meant I wouldn’t be able to ask her until some point next time. While it was good I had some time to think about it, I also was worried about putting it off for too long. Every time I saw her with Aaron in the halls, I got worried about her. He clearly knew how pliant she was, and from what I’d seen in the halls that one day, I knew he took advantage of it.

Chef asked me about it when I got to training, but I put him off. It occurred to me that he might realize I was procrastinating too, since he stepped up my conditioning by several notches. By the time he let me stop so I could begin fight training, I was dripping in sweat.

“Okay, now that you’re warmed up, we can get started.”

It was all I could do to keep from offering a few choice words in between gasps for air. I was able to hold back partly because I didn’t want the extra exercise that would have come with those words, but mostly because I couldn’t get enough oxygen to actually form words.

“Today we’re going to work on sweeps and redirects. 'Sweeps' is actually a broad term, and not really the right one, but I group most moves that accomplish taking your opponent to the ground while you’re still standing in the same category. Sweeps come in several forms. First, you have your leg sweeps, which also have multiple forms, such as back sweeps and forward sweeps. Next, you have your kicks aimed at the back of the knees and the shins, the latter usually paired with a push. Finally, you have your hooks, again paired with a push. First, we’ll start with sweeps. Stand back and come at me. You can pick your attack.”

I knew I was about to spend the day with my butt smashing into the ground, but I figured I’d try my best to get in a few licks of my own. Maybe I could surprise him.

That notion quickly went out the window. The first attack I tried was a sidestep punch, hoping the move to the side would put me out of the way of whatever he was going to try. I rushed forward and made my move when suddenly he wasn’t in front of me. He’d dropped down under my fist, which swung harmlessly over his head. The next thing I knew his leg smashed into the back of mine, taking my feet out from under me.

“Okay,” he said, helping me up. “That was a forward sweep. You’ll notice how I pivoted on one leg, with the other outstretched and, right before I made contact, I planted my hands flat on the ground. This has two functions. One is to offer additional power before I connected, and the other was to give me a more stable base and some leverage. Pivoting on one foot by itself isn’t enough of a foundation for contact without you also losing balance. Let’s have you try it.”

My first couple of attempts were a complete failure. On the first one, my knee hit the ground before I ever made contact, which caused me to lose all momentum and fall over without ever touching him. He managed to work through my form until I could spin around without hurting myself.

When we tried again, I had my second failure. He was holding a pretty solid stance and I more or less bounced off of him. It actually hurt like hell when my leg impacted against his. This was his way of teaching. He’d show me how something was done, let me try and fail, and then coach me through that failure. We’d continue to repeat the failure and teaching until I managed to perform the assigned technique successfully. He’d then add variations to what he did, at which point we’d restart the fail and teaching cycle again.

We finished the front sweep and went on to back sweep, shin kick, and knee kick. Some of them, like a sidekick delivered to the back of the knee, were pretty obvious in their applications. Others required some explanation to understand how to use them properly.

“There’s something I was wondering,” I said as we finished up. “How do I know when to use these, or really anything else you’ve been teaching me? If I stop and think about what to use here or there, wouldn’t I slow down and open myself up?”

“If you stopped to think about it then yes, you would. That’s why we do so much repetition of these moves and I do the call and response. The more you practice a move the more muscle memory you’ll build up, until you see the correct opening and just do it, without thinking about it consciously. Afterward, you’ll realize what you saw and why you took the shot you did, but in the moment you should already be going to the next move. It’s also why it’s important to tape practice fights and review them, to learn where you’re not reacting fast enough or missing opportunities, so you know where you need to keep working.”

The call and response was something Chef had just started doing recently. He’d have me attack or defend, and would call for specific moves I needed to use. I hadn’t thought about it, but when he did that, he always put himself in a position for that move to work, often repeating those positions.

“Now, since you’ve got some energy to ask questions, I want ten minutes of rope and ten holding horse stance. Remember, I’ll be watching, so don’t cheat the horse stance.”

I knew he wasn’t punishing me for asking questions, that was just his sense of humor. He’d already told me he was planning on working me extra hard this week to make up for some of the time we’d miss over the weekend. Mostly because the gig with Willie was on the other side of Nashville, which meant we had to leave earlier, which would cut into my practice time, but also because I told him about going to the swim meet on Sunday, which would mean being a little late for practice that day as well.

I made it through the rope work, which was exhausting. When I’d seen boxers in movies doing jump rope routines it never occurred to me how effective those actually were. I was always left dripping in sweat afterward.

The real torture, though, was the horse stance afterward. A horse stance is a low straddle where the bulk of your weight rests on your hips and upper leg. It gets exhausting pretty fast and after about five minutes it stops being physical and becomes almost meditative. I always felt like complete jelly when I finished the combi.

I was halfway through my horse stance with my eyes closed to help settle my mind and focus on one point so I could ignore the stabs of pain in my legs when a voice almost made me fall backward.

“What the fuck are you doing princess?”

I recognized the voice. In hindsight, I was surprised it’d taken Aaron this long to come find me here. It wasn’t a secret that I spent most of my free time at the Blue Ridge, and he’d been itching to find a place where he and his friends could get a piece of me without being interrupted. Somehow I’d just not expected it, seeing the Blue Ridge as a safe place from my problems at school or with Rhonda.

My legs felt like jelly as I stood up, not completely able to hide how unsteady I was. It was pretty deserted out here. The dinner rush hadn’t started yet and the kitchen crew would all be focused on getting things ready, which meant it was unlikely that any of them would pop out for a smoke. I was on my own.

“Aaron, what are you doing here?”

“I came looking for you. You think you can talk to me like you did at those nerds’ party and get away with it?”

I wasn’t worried about Aaron, not directly at least. I hadn’t been training long enough to get cocky, but I’d gotten a good piece of him when we’d squared off the last time. It was trying to take on three people that had really caused me to get hurt, not that I didn’t think Aaron could hurt me. I knew he could, but I was confident I could take it and get in more damage, especially since I was in a lot better shape now than I had been several months ago.

The problem was, it wasn’t just Aaron. He’d brought Harry and Paul with him, along with two other guys I vaguely recognized as being on the football team. Even with training, I wasn’t sure I could take on five people, so I did the smart thing. I turned and made a dash for the door to the kitchen. It wasn’t until then that I realized there was a sixth guy, who’d gone in behind me while I did horse stance. I’d been so focused on just holding the form without moving, that I hadn’t noticed him.

It was at that moment I found out two things. One was that the training was actually paying off. The guy took a swing at me and I reacted instinctually, throwing up a hand and brushing the strike over my right shoulder. The second thing I learned was that it hadn’t paid off enough. I was halfway through the counter punch when a truck in the form of a two-hundred and ten-pound linebacker smashed into me from the side. I hadn’t seen it coming and was completely blindsided, sailing through the air like a rag-doll. We landed hard on the cement, with the guys’ weight entirely on me. I did manage to keep from bouncing my skull off the concrete, which probably saved me from serious damage, but the hit had been enough to knock the air out of my lungs.

He stood up while I was sucking air, trying to get enough in to take an actual breath. It felt like I was suffocating, my face getting hot from the rush of blood into it as I fought for oxygen.

Aaron and his friends surrounded me as I lay there, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Thankfully a voice called from somewhere behind them.

“You gentlemen should go home now.”

They all turned to see who it was and I pushed myself up on my elbows enough to see Chef. He was a sight for sore eyes. I’d manage to start getting gasps of air, but it would be another minute before I could do anything other than just sit there.

“Get lost, old man,” Harry said.

Harry lived up to his reputation of being dumb as a sack full of hammers. Aaron at least had the good sense to be worried. I knew Chef and thought of him as one of the kindest people I’d ever known, and even I could feel the danger rolling off of him.

“I will ask you again, please leave the young man alone and go home. You are on private property.”

“Just get rid of him,” Aaron said to Harry before turning back to me, his mouth twisting in a cruel smile.

I didn’t see what happened at first. Aaron and his other friends were all around me, blocking my view and I was focused on them intently, waiting for the first one to make a move. Chef hadn’t covered what to do when you’re on the ground, but I knew if I tried to stand, they’d go at me as soon as I opened myself up. My only hope was to tense, ready to grab one of them as soon as they made a move, when they were off-balance.

The first thing any of us knew something had gone wrong for Harry was a crash and a yelp in pain. Aaron and all of his friends twisted around to see what was happening, allowing me to scramble to my feet and back up. It was then that I saw Harry on top of several bags of trash the kitchen had set piled up to walk out to the dumpster at the end of the parking lot.

Chef was standing still, looking back at Aaron, seemingly completely unfazed that one of these kids had just gone after him. I had to hand it to Aaron, what he lacked in brains he made up for in a willingness to double down on bad decisions.

His friends were looking at each other, unsure of what to do. Beating up another kid was one thing, but attacking an adult was out of their comfort zone. They only broke their indecision when Aaron lunged towards Chef, causing the lot of them to join in.

Chef surprised me. He’d been teaching me strikes, kicks, and other attacks as much as he taught me defensive moves, and yet he used none of them. Aaron was reaching out with both arms, apparently trying to grapple with him. Chef responded by grabbing his outer right wrist while he moved inside the grab, the controlled wrist keeping Aaron from doing anything with it. Hooking a foot around Aaron’s ankle, Chef twisted while grasping a fist full of Aaron’s shirt with his free hand. It looked like he both pushed, threw sideways, and pulled with the hooked leg all at once, pulling Aaron’s feet from under him and sending Aaron flying into two of his friends, the group of them collapsing in a heap.

In what seemed like a continuation of that movement, his hand moved on to Paul’s arm as he sidestepped towards the collapsed group and away from the other standing attackers. As he got around Paul, who was getting spun by the arm Chef was controlling, he put his foot against Paul’s ass and pushed, knocking Paul to the ground.

The last kid showed he might have been the smartest in the bunch, pulling up short and backing up, hands raised. Aaron was freeing himself from the pile, looking like he was ready to kill someone, apparently completely oblivious to how easily he’d been handled.

It was only his good luck that Police sirens could be heard as a patrol car pulled around the building, up on the grass on the side of the building between the rear area of the restaurant and the parking lot. Aaron finally managed enough sense and stopped.

Everything had lasted seconds. Chef never threw a punch and was able to get all but one on the ground before I had a chance to do anything to help. It was an impressive display.

Aaron didn’t disappoint his reputation as a complete weasel. As soon as the deputy got out of the car he started babbling about how he was just having a conversation when this guy walked out of the restaurant and attacked them. Unfortunately for him, half the kitchen staff had stepped outside as spectators, down to recording the whole thing on their cellphones.

The police didn’t put anyone in cuffs, but had Aaron and his friends sit on the ground while they figured out what happened. They apparently knew Chef, since they spoke to him respectfully and never gave him any commands. That could have just been my imagination, since Chef had sat down in one of the chairs by the back door while they were getting Aaron and his bunch to calm down and sit, leaving them with nothing to really tell him to do.

They asked everyone questions and looked over the videos, writing down everyone’s statements. While we waited, I had one of the guys show me what they’d captured, which was about the same for all of them. They’d come out just before Harry had made his move and included Aaron and his guys hovering above me, clearly looking like they were about to kick my ass.

Watching Chef take them apart was just as exciting as the first time, although the different angle let me see some of the other things he’d done that I’d missed. Since they had my contact info, I asked one of the guys to forward the video to me. I wanted to study from it, since everything I’d learned so far had been theoretical. This was my first chance to see what Chef had been teaching me in action, and I wanted to learn as much from it as possible.

While I was looking at the video, the cops put Aaron, Harry, and one of the other guys who’d been seen on video actually throwing a punch, or making an attempt to grab Chef, in handcuffs. The rest of them were told to go home, since they hadn’t been caught doing anything more than looming over me.

“Finally,” I said, drinking in the sight of Aaron going into a police car. “I thought he’d never have to pay for the shit he does. Maybe I can get a copy of his booking photo.”

“I’m not pressing charges, Charlie. I asked them to take those three to the police station and call their parents, but that’s it.”

I was stunned.

“What? Why? Do you know the shit he pulls? He’s the guy who broke my damn ankle!”

“Charlie, do you know who his father is?”

“Why should that matter? It’s what he deserves.”

“Probably, but it wouldn’t matter. His father’s the county district attorney. He’d never follow through on any charges, and they’re all minors. While I made sure not to strike any of them, he could still make our lives difficult if he really wanted to. While I’m sure that young man won’t learn from this, I’m hoping his father will at least talk to him and maybe keep a better eye on him. Not likely, I grant you, but it’s the best we can hope for in this situation.”

“But … it’s not fair,” I whined.

I hated whining, but I was just shocked that Aaron was going to once again just walk away from any responsibility.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Charlie, if there’s one thing from me you should ever learn, it’s that life’s not fair. We should strive to be the best version of ourselves we can and push for justice, but we must also accept the world we live in. Demanding things be fair will just leave you frustrated and ill-prepared for what happens next. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to train you. You’re a good person and you go out of your way to help people in trouble. That will inevitably put you in a situation like this, and I wanted to give you a chance to protect yourself when you do.”

“So that’s it, just life isn’t fair? We should just accept people like Aaron always getting away with his shit?”

“For now, yes. The other thing I’ve learned is that people like him learn the wrong lessons, believing because they escaped smaller troubles like fighting in high school, they’ll always manage to avoid it. Eventually, they’ll try to pull the same stuff in a large pond where they’re no longer such a big fish, and all of life’s lessons they avoided till then will come crashing down on them. It’s Karma, after a fashion.”

It pissed me off, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I’d just have to hope Chef was right and eventually Aaron would get his. Right now, it seemed people like Aaron could apparently get away with anything, just because they had money or who their parents were.