Chapter 7: Hero, Maybe. Not Superhero

I had been wondering about lunches in American schools, how they would be different from those of the other cultures where I had lived. I should have known better.

Yuk. This is food? If it is, maybe the food they serve to farm animals would be better; the pictures I saw of cattle and hogs on the Web showed them as being healthy and well nourished. So I won’t describe the fare; if you haven’t eaten yet it might ruin your appetite. I selected a salad, fruit, and milk. At least I could identify those.

Denise selected the same items. Good for her. We looked around and saw someone waving at us. It was Sarah, and she was standing at an empty table on the other side of the room. Then I saw Andrew; he was leading two of the others of our group toward Sarah. Ok, we have six now. Then another familiar face popped out of the cashier’s lane. Seven.

We gathered around Sarah, who indicated the table. On the wall was a little sign that said “Reserved.”

“This is the Program students’ table. We’re supposed to sit here so we can be located as the targets for the gropers. I guess we’re kind of like Program students this week—Program-in-waiting—so let’s sit here.” she said.

We sat. The three newcomers finally looked at me, noticed who I was, and with awestruck expressions, began jabbering at once:

“It’s you! Goddamn, you were freakin’ awesome...”

“Oh God, how did you do all that...”

“Man, you study with the Batman and Robin or something...”

I put up my hand; their voices fell but they kept staring like I was going to disappear right before their eyes for my next trick. This had to stop.

“I’m just a guy, a nerd, actually, who’s studied a few martial arts moves and got lucky. I didn’t do anything that any of you couldn’t learn, but it takes a few years of study. Lots of people do it. I just have the build that makes it look easy, but it’s just learned muscle reactions, like playing an instrument. Any of you play?” Two raised their hands. “Ok, how long did it take before your playing sounded ok?” Two years, they both allowed. “Right. That’s just about how long it took me to begin to get some proficiency. So no big deal, right? Nothing but eye-muscle automatic response, when you see a note on the page, you don’t think where to put your fingers, yes? They go to the right place without any thought. That’s how my skill is too. Nothing heroic.”

They still looked at me dubiously. I gotta change the subject. Before I could, Sarah broke in.

“But it wasn’t only physical; we saw that in the room! After we left, you must have outsmarted them too! You got them to agree with you and even stopped the Program—well, for a week—but that’s still amazing! How did you do that, then?”

I sighed. How to tell them how focus and centering can make one feel like an irresistible force when striving for an objective?

“Well, that’s part of the Arts too. It makes you so focused on your opponent that you can spot tiny signs of openings you can take to further your arguments. It’s kind of like trying to pry a top off a bottle. You can’t just pull off the top; it’s on too tight. But you can work it off slowly, a tiny bit at a time, until it comes off by itself. That’s a bad metaphor but it’s all I can think of now. And they gave me this huge, huge opening where I could argue from a position of real strength—blackmail, almost, really. I think I picked this up from my dad and his lawyer; also my mom was a diplomat. I watched them all in action and saw how they were able to use words and actions to maneuver people into doing what they wanted. Maybe that rubbed off on me as well. Let’s not talk about me. I’m a normal teen, just have some different experiences than you guys, and got lucky. We need to talk about next week.”

The stony faces immediately returned. “Hey, don’t get too upset now. As Denise knows, I got a number of good concessions from Fletcher; you heard his announcement. We need to put things together from our side now.”

They looked at me with anticipation. “Before I tell you that part, let’s introduce ourselves. You guys may know each other but obviously I don’t and none of my special powers includes mind-reading. Or maybe I get that power when I turn 18.”

They all cracked up.

Andrew said, “Yeah, we’ve spoken in Calc today but the youngsters don’t know me.” The others shot him an annoyed look. “Hey, just kidding. You know it’s traditional for seniors to put down all underclassmen, don’t you? If I don’t mess with you guys, then I’ll get kicked out of the senior class.”