Ghost Skills

Ghost Skills Chapter 4

 As we trained that first day my new Sensei continually added something.

"When you punch, come forward with your leg till you're on your toe. It adds more force to the strike. Elbows in Daniel, do not over extend yourself as it throws you off balance."

After awhile, with sweat pouring off of me he went into the duffel bag he had brought into the yard and threw me a water bottle. "Take a break Daniel you're doing well."

I plopped down onto the grass, grateful for the break. As we sat there I was overwhelmed with curiosity for this man. Taking a drink, I wiped my mouth and asked

"Sensei where did you learn to fight?"

He looked at me for a moment before replying "I used to be a Navy SEAL. In the SEAL's I learned a good amount of martial arts. After I left the navy I traveled to Japan to continue my art where after many more years of training I was elevated to the rank of Grand Master.”

As I processed this, a question came to the fore of my mind. "Why did you decide to train me? For free I mean."

He settled into a more comfortable position before he answered me. "When I saw that older kid fall from your punch to his chest I was astounded that you managed to accomplish that from one hit. Then when you took advantage of the other boys lunge and kneed him I had to know who had taught you to move like that. When you told me that you had never been trained I realized that you have hands that were made for killing."

I shuddered at the thought of killing another human being.

Seeing my reaction he laughed, a booming, carry for miles type of laugh. "Let me rephrase that, I keep forgetting you're only nine. Hands meant for fighting. Now get up, we are going to do some kicking drills."

Getting up from my sitting position, I backed up a few feet when he motioned for me to do so with a wave of his hand. "A good kick is powerful but fast at the same time. Remember to chamber your kicks, Bringing your knee up and shooting your foot out with force. Whether it be a roundhouse, crescent kick, spin kick, reverse or forward thrust kick."

He demonstrated each as he spoke, throwing a flurry of kicks my direction. "Now its your turn."

As I threw my kicks he nodded. "Good, good. Those were almost all perfect, with true perfection coming in time. Now attack me, using both punches and kicks." As I moved toward him he smiled.

One of the days a few months in to my training, I was surprised to find a gymnasts balance beam in the yard when I arrived. More to my surprise I saw Sensei Michael balancing on it in full stance.

"Um, Sensei what are you doing up there?"

"Same thing you will be doing today. You're going to learn to fight full out on this thing."

I backed away with my eyes wide. After awhile he persuaded to try it and I fell right off. Angry at the fact that I couldn't do it, I spent the next month training on it endlessly. After many falls and a broken arm, I had gotten good enough so I could fight on the balance beam as though both of my feet were planted on the ground. Until this day if the situation calls for it, I can fight on something as thin as six inches wide.

We continued in this manner for five years, honing my body, skills and mind to a razor edge. Every night I collapsed into bed, exhausted from a long day of training. Sensei Michael taught me many things during these years, as in how to fight with an assortment of weapons including bo staffs, a wooden, bamboo, or light metal pole around 5 feet long depending on the height of the user. Used for striking your opponents body directly, a person skilled in BoJutsu can move the bo staff faster than the human eye can track it. Swords, namely a Katana. A slightly curved Japanese blade meant more for slicing than stabbing, though deathly effective with either strike. Sai, a weapon much like a small, hand held trident more for stabbing and small swipes. Shuriken, also known as throwing stars or Ninja Stars.

Over time I became deadly accurate with the small, star, shaped projectiles. And my personal favorite and my best weapon, a knife, usually a seven or eight inch blade.

After five years of training day in, and day out Sensei Michael sat me down in his living room and studied me for a moment.

"Daniel, what does the word "karate" mean?"

"The art of the open hand Sensei."

He leaned forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of his chin. "And how long have we been training together?"

"Today makes five years." I replied, wondering where he was taking this.

"Follow me."

Vacating his chair, he lead us out of the door into our training ground and stood a small distance away with his back turned toward me. Suddenly he whirled around with speed he had not previously exhibited and attacked me. As he attacked I was overwhelmed by the speed and ferocity of his strikes. Able to block most of the strikes, with a few getting through, I held my ground. After a few moments I realized that we were no longer pulling punches, so I started pushing back.

Fighting back, with all the skill and force I had learned over the past five years put into effect for the first time, I felt light on my feet. Actually starting to gain ground, I pushed harder and harder until I had backed my Sensei up to the fence that encircled the yard. As he bumped into it he looked back and I took advantage of his momentary distraction, crouched low to the ground and swept my foot out in a leg sweep. He fell, and I straightened, about to come down onto his chest with my knee when I heard,

"STOP!"

Realizing that it came from Sensei Michael I stopped my attack right away, and backed up. He lifted himself off the floor and looked at me with a genuine smile.

"Well done Daniel. You have come a long way from the boy I saw in that park. I have nothing left to teach you but you have a long way to go."

As he spoke my thoughts were going in ten different directions at once. "You are no longer my student but keep practicing and soon you will be unbeatable."

With that he turned and went into his home. I stood in his yard for a few moments, completely bewildered as to what had just happened. It dawned on me that I had reached the pinnacle of my training, and when a Master has nothing left to teach, the student is graduated.

Almost a year later my mother packed me and my sisters up and moved us to Chicago, leaving Sensei Michael behind. Just as we were packing the last few things into the moving truck, I heard someone call my name. Turning and seeing my Sensei, I clasped my hands together and bowed.

"I wanted you to have this before you left Daniel," he said, pulling a black sheath from behind his back. Taking it from him and pulling the knife I was amazed to see the inscription on the blade, [For Daniel, My Best Student.] Tears welling up I hugged and thanked him before he chatted with my mother for a few moments and left. We all piled into the truck, and I was filled with anticipation of my new life in Chicago. Thinking it would be great, I was filled with fantasies and hopes. Little did I know.