Chapter 27: A Plan for the Future

Monday:

Josh woke up on Monday morning to the faint sound of birds chirping outside his window. Stretching, he glanced at the mirror above his dresser. The yellowish-green bruise around his eye was fading, the swelling long gone, though the memory of Danny’s attack lingered.

“Almost there,” he muttered, leaning closer to inspect his reflection. The sight of his nearly healed face filled him with mixed emotions. He was relieved to see the bruises disappearing, but part of him hated that they had ever been there at all. They were a stark reminder of the chaos Danny had briefly brought into his life—a reminder Josh wanted to leave behind.

Shaking off the thought, he grabbed his clothes and headed downstairs. The house was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the faint ticking of the kitchen clock. His mother and brothers were already gone—his mom to work, Joel and William to school.

Josh grabbed a slice of bread, slathering it with peanut butter and folding it in half. It wasn’t much of a breakfast, but it would hold him over until lunch. As he ate, his mind drifted to the weekend. Memories of his first Aikido lesson with Sensei Chang surfaced, the fluid movements and principles of balance replaying in his mind. He felt a spark of excitement at the thought of his next lesson, but his thoughts were soon interrupted by the reality of the school day ahead.

After finishing his makeshift breakfast, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and stepped out into the cool morning air. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the quiet neighborhood streets. As he walked, his thoughts returned to the weekend. He thought about his conversation with Mr. Johnson, reflecting on how much he’d learned—not just about the military or history, but about life itself.

The rhythmic crunch of his sneakers against the pavement accompanied his musings. “Balance,” he murmured to himself, recalling the central tenet of Aikido that Sensei Chang had emphasized. It wasn’t just about martial arts—it was about life, about finding harmony in every situation. The principle felt especially poignant as he considered the changes happening around him, from his lessons with Sensei to his potential academic advancement.

Josh arrived at school and was greeted by the usual morning bustle of students milling about the yard. Some were tossing a football, others chatting in groups near the bike racks. As he approached the school doors, he spotted Mrs. Thomson standing near the entrance, her warm smile cutting through the morning chill.

“Good morning, Josh,” she called out, her voice warm and welcoming. Her ever-present smile lit up her face, though her sharp eyes studied him closely.

“Morning, Mrs. Thomson,” Josh replied, adjusting his backpack. “How was your weekend?”

“Busy but productive,” she said, stepping closer. “How about you? Did you have a chance to rest?”

Josh nodded. “A bit. Spent some time practicing something new.”

Her eyebrows lifted with interest. “Something new? That sounds intriguing.”

Josh hesitated, debating how much to share. “Yeah, I’ve been learning Aikido. It’s ... different, but I’m starting to get the hang of it.”

Mrs. Thomson’s smile widened. “That’s wonderful, Josh. Martial arts can teach a lot—discipline, focus, balance. I’m glad to hear you’re exploring something so enriching.”

“Thanks,” Josh said, feeling a flicker of pride. “It’s definitely a challenge, but it’s a good one.”

Mrs. Thomson tilted her head slightly, as if sensing there was more on his mind. “Well, keep at it. Now, before you head in, Mr. Richards wanted to see you. It’s about the plan.”

Josh felt a jolt of anticipation. “Got it. I’ll head there now.”

Josh walked through the bustling halls, weaving between clusters of students as he made his way to the office. The buzz of activity faded as he stepped inside, replaced by the subdued hum of the front desk computer and the soft ringing of a distant phone. The receptionist glanced up and gave him a small nod.

“Mr. Richards is expecting you,” she said, motioning toward his office.

Josh knocked lightly on the door and heard Mr. Richards’ voice call out, “Come in.”

The assistant principal looked up from his desk, a sea of paperwork and manila folders spread out before him. Despite the clutter, his expression was calm and focused.

“Good morning, Josh,” he greeted, gesturing to the chair across from him. “Have a seat.”

Josh sat down, setting his backpack beside him. “Mrs. Thomson said you wanted to talk about the plan?”

Mr. Richards nodded, folding his hands on the desk. “That’s right. We’ve been reviewing the options we discussed during our last meeting with your mother, and I wanted to go over a few things with you. I’m curious to hear your thoughts before we finalize anything.”

Josh leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. “What are the options?”

“Well,” Mr. Richards began, “the most straightforward option would be to accelerate you through a few grades. However, after considering and discussing it further with Mrs. Thomson, we believe that might not be the best fit for you.”

Josh exhaled quietly, relieved. “I agree. It sounds nice in theory, but I don’t think it’s the right move. The age difference alone would make things ... complicated.”

“Exactly,” Mr. Richards said with a nod. “So, we’ve been exploring alternatives. One idea is a blended approach—a combination of independent study and selective participation in higher-level classes. Essentially, you’d have the flexibility to work at your own pace while still having access to resources and support.”

Josh’s interest was piqued. “How would that work?”

“For most subjects, you’d receive assignments and materials to work on independently,” Mr. Richards explained. “You’d have the freedom to progress as quickly as you’re able. For classes that require lab work or group collaboration, you’d join those sessions as needed. It’s a way to advance academically without the social pressures of skipping grades entirely.”

Josh considered the idea, his mind racing with possibilities. It sounded ideal—he could focus on learning without the distractions or complications of being the youngest student in a higher grade. “That sounds ... perfect, actually.”

Mr. Richards smiled. “I’m glad you think so. We’ll need to iron out some details, of course, and get approval from the district, but I wanted to make sure you were on board before we moved forward.”

Josh nodded, feeling a sense of excitement and relief. “I’m definitely on board. When would it start?”

“We’re aiming for the start of the next school year,” Mr. Richards replied. “This will give us time to set everything up and ensure a smooth transition.”

Josh stood, extending his hand. “Thank you for putting this together. I really appreciate it.”

Mr. Richards shook his hand firmly. “You’re welcome, Josh. We’re excited to see what you can achieve.”

Josh stepped out of Mr. Richards’ office with a sense of optimism, his mind buzzing with possibilities. The plan to pursue independent study and selective classroom participation next year was a game changer. It offered the perfect blend of challenge and autonomy, allowing him to advance academically while sidestepping the social pitfalls of jumping grades.

The bustling school hallway felt brighter, and even the chatter of his classmates seemed less like background noise and more like the lively rhythm of a world he was eager to reengage with. He straightened his backpack and headed back to his classroom.

Mrs. Thomson greeted Josh with a warm smile as he entered. “Welcome back, Josh. Everything alright with Mr. Richards?”

“Yeah,” Josh said, taking his seat. “We talked about some plans for next year. It’s looking pretty good.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said before returning to the front of the class.

Josh settled in, determined to make the most of the rest of the school day. He answered questions with confidence, engaged in group discussions, and even found himself helping a classmate solve a tricky math problem. By the time the lunch bell rang, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

The cafeteria hummed with activity as Josh grabbed a tray of spaghetti and meatballs, sitting with a few classmates who waved him over. The conversation flitted between the latest cartoons, an upcoming soccer match, and a kid’s failed attempt to set the class record for jump rope skips during recess.

After lunch, Josh joined a group at the basketball court. Though he didn’t play as intensely as usual, still nursing some soreness from Aikido, he enjoyed the camaraderie and laughter. By the time the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, Josh felt a sense of normalcy that had been absent since Danny’s attack. As Josh packed his things, Mrs. Thomson approached him. “Josh, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Josh slung his backpack over one shoulder and nodded. “Sure, Mrs. Thomson.”

They moved to her desk, and she motioned for him to sit. “How did your meeting with Mr. Richards go? Everything sorted?”

“Yeah,” Josh said, his tone light. “We talked about a plan where I’d do independent study for most subjects and only come in for labs or group work. It won’t start until next year, but it sounds like a great setup.”

Mrs. Thomson’s face lit up with pride. “That’s wonderful! I’m so glad Mr. Richards and the school are working with you on this. I know it’s going to make a big difference.”

Josh nodded, smiling. “Thanks for helping set it up. I really appreciate it.” Without thinking, he leaned forward and gave her a quick hug.

Mrs. Thomson seemed surprised but returned the gesture with a warm chuckle. “You’re welcome, Josh. You’ve earned this.”

As the conversation turned lighter, Mrs. Thomson tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “By the way, Josh, you mentioned Aikido earlier. How did you get started with that? It’s not something most kids your age usually dive into.”

Josh’s face lit up with excitement. “Oh, it’s kind of a funny story. I’ve been going to the Mini Mart near my house, and it turns out the owner, Mr. Chang—well, Sensei Chang—runs a dojo. He noticed my black eye and offered to teach me some self-defense. I jumped at the chance! I’ve only had one lesson so far, but it’s already made a huge impression on me. He’s not just teaching moves—he’s teaching a whole philosophy. It’s all about harmony, balance, and redirecting energy. It’s like learning how to turn a bad situation into something positive.”

Mrs. Thomson leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest. “That’s fascinating. Martial arts often have such rich philosophies behind them. You know, I’ve been practicing Jujitsu for a few years now. It’s amazing how much it changes your perspective, isn’t it?”

Josh’s eyes widened. “Wait—you? Jujitsu? I had no idea! That’s so cool!”

She chuckled. “Yep. I started about three years ago after ... well, let’s just say it was part of my healing process. I needed to feel strong, not just physically but mentally too. Jujitsu has this way of making you confront your fears and weaknesses head-on.”

Josh nodded, intrigued. “What’s it like? I mean, Jujitsu.”

Mrs. Thomson straightened, her hands moving as she explained. “It’s more ground-based than Aikido. It’s about grappling, submissions, and leverage—using an opponent’s strength against them. If someone’s bigger or stronger, you don’t fight their strength directly. Instead, you work to neutralize them with technique.”

Josh thought for a moment, then said, “That’s kind of like Aikido. But instead of grappling, we focus on staying upright, using spirals and movement to avoid conflict altogether. Like, if someone pushes, instead of pushing back, you redirect the energy. You let them overextend themselves.”

Mrs. Thomson smiled. “So both are about control and strategy. That’s interesting. Jujitsu is like a chess game—reading your opponent and thinking three moves ahead. I imagine Aikido has a similar mental component?”

Josh nodded enthusiastically. “Totally. Sensei Chang says it’s about harmony and balance. You’re not just learning to fight; you’re learning how to avoid conflict entirely if possible. He told me that Aikido isn’t just a martial art—it’s a way of life. It’s about creating peace out of violence.”

Her smile softened. “That’s a beautiful philosophy. I can see why it resonates with you.”

For the next hour, their conversation flowed effortlessly. Mrs. Thomson shared anecdotes about sparring sessions at her dojo, describing a particularly memorable match where she managed to pin an opponent twice her size. “It wasn’t strength that won the match,” she explained, “it was timing and technique. I let him wear himself out trying to overpower me, then used his momentum to my advantage.”

Josh listened intently, hanging on every word. “That’s amazing. Sensei Chang said something similar about how brute strength isn’t the answer—it’s all about understanding your opponent’s energy.”

Feeling inspired, Josh stood and demonstrated a few basic Aikido movements. “This is what Sensei taught me on Saturday. It’s not perfect yet, but I’m working on the flow.”

Mrs. Thomson watched with genuine interest. “That’s a great start! Your movements are already smoother than I’d expect after just one lesson.”

Josh grinned, a little embarrassed. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing a lot at home. It’s kind of addictive. Once you start learning, you just want to get better.”

She chuckled. “I know the feeling. Jujitsu became that for me—a way to push myself and grow. It’s amazing how martial arts can transform your mindset, isn’t it?”

Josh nodded. “Yeah. It’s like ... it’s not just about self-defense. It’s about becoming a better version of yourself.”

Their conversation meandered into deeper territory, touching on the philosophical aspects of martial arts. Mrs. Thomson mentioned how her training had helped her navigate life’s challenges, from her divorce to managing stress at work. “It teaches you resilience,” she said. “When you’re pinned on the mat, and you feel like there’s no way out, you learn to stay calm, assess the situation, and find a solution.”

Josh absorbed her words, feeling a newfound respect for his teacher. “That’s ... wow. I guess I never thought about it that way, but yeah, I get it. Aikido’s already teaching me to stay calm under pressure. It’s like a lesson for life, not just the dojo.”

When Mrs. Thomson glanced at the clock, her eyes widened. “Oh no! We’ve been talking for over an hour! I didn’t mean to keep you.”

Josh shrugged, smiling. “It’s fine. This was awesome.”

She grabbed her purse and stood. “Well, I can’t let you walk home after making you stay late. Let me give you a ride.”

Josh followed Mrs. Thomson out to the parking lot, balancing his backpack over one shoulder. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the rows of parked cars. He glanced around, expecting her to head toward a practical family sedan or a nondescript teacher’s car. Instead, she stopped next to a sleek, silver sports car, its glossy surface gleaming in the sunlight.

“Wait ... this is your car?” Josh blurted out, staring wide-eyed at the 1994 Mazda RX-7 R2.

Mrs. Thomson smiled knowingly, fishing her keys out of her purse. “Yep. Surprised?”

“Uh, yeah!” Josh exclaimed, stepping closer to take in the car’s elegant curves and iconic rotary engine emblem. “This is an RX-7, right? A twin-turbo rotary engine! These things are legends! I’ve only ever seen them in magazines. I didn’t think anyone in town drove one, let alone my teacher.”

She chuckled, unlocking the doors with a click. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Josh ran his hand just above the surface of the hood, not daring to touch it but marveling at its flawless condition. “This is insane. You don’t seem like the type to drive something this ... fast.”

Mrs. Thomson leaned against the driver’s door, her smirk widening. “Oh? And what type do I seem like?”

Josh hesitated, then shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t know ... a minivan, maybe?”

Laughing, Mrs. Thomson gestured for him to get in. “Get in, Josh, before you dig yourself a deeper hole.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, Josh was enveloped in the softness of the suede seats and a subtle hint of motor oil—a tangible reminder that this car wasn’t merely a showpiece. As Mrs. Thomson ignited the engine, the rotary motor erupted into a vibrant hum, and Josh’s grin widened in delight.

“This is incredible,” he whispered, securing his seatbelt.

Mrs. Thomson adjusted her mirrors, casting a sideways glance at him. “You may not know this, but it wasn’t always mine. It belonged to my ex-husband. He had an intense passion for this car.”

Intrigued, Josh leaned forward. “How did you eventually come into possession of it?”

She pulled out of the parking lot with a wry smile. “Let’s just say the divorce wasn’t exactly amicable. He wanted the car more than anything else, so I made sure it was part of my settlement. Call it spite or poetic justice, but now it’s mine.”

Josh let out a low whistle. “Well, it’s a good thing you kept it. If I were your ex, I’d be crying every time I thought about this beauty.”

Mrs. Thomson laughed, accelerating onto the main road. The rotary engine purred like a contented cat, smooth and powerful. “It’s funny—you’re not the first person to say that.”

Josh leaned back, soaking in the sound of the car as it sped along. “If you ever think about selling it, let me know. I’d buy it in a heartbeat.”

Mrs. Thomson gave him a quick glance, her smile softening. “I’ll keep that in mind, but for now, I’m enjoying it too much. Besides, I don’t think you have the budget for this kind of car yet.”

Josh grinned, feeling a rare sense of camaraderie with his teacher. “Not yet, but give me a few years. I’ll make it happen.”

The conversation turned lighter as they drove through the quiet streets toward Josh’s neighborhood. Mrs. Thomson shared stories about learning to drive stick shift and how her ex used to obsess over the car’s maintenance. Josh listened intently, hanging on every word like a kid hearing a bedtime story.

As the sleek sports car, the RX-7, purred into the driveway, Dorothy, engrossed in folding laundry on the porch, lifted her brows in mild surprise at the sight of the vehicle. When it came to a stop, Josh emerged, shouldering his backpack, and waved.

“Hi, Mom,” he called out, his voice casual yet revealing a smile tugging at his lips, hinting at his excitement for the day.

Mrs. Thomson gracefully exited the car, greeting Dorothy with a warm smile. “Good evening, Mrs. Harlow,” she began. “I’m Mary Thomson, Josh’s teacher. I hope it’s alright—I offered him a ride home since we got caught up talking after school.”

Dorothy set down the laundry basket and approached, extending her hand. “Of course. Thank you for looking out for him. I truly appreciate it.”

“It was no trouble at all,” Mrs. Thomson replied, shaking Dorothy’s hand. “Josh is an exceptional student. He’s been performing exceptionally well in class, and it’s evident that he’s carrying a heavy load on his shoulders. We had a meaningful conversation.”

Dorothy glanced at Josh, her smile widening. “Well, I’m delighted to hear that. He’s been putting in a lot of effort lately.”

Josh rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of sheepishness evident beneath the praise, but clearly pleased.

Mrs. Thomson gestured towards her car. “I was about to head home, but I didn’t want him to walk since it grew late.”

Dorothy considered her options. “Would you like to join us for dinner? We’d be delighted to have you.”

Mrs. Thomson hesitated, glancing at her watch. “That’s incredibly kind of you. I’d love to accept, but I have a dog at home who’s likely wondering where I am. What time are you having dinner?”