Chapter 8

Peter woke early the next morning, dressed in his jeans, a tee-shirt, and a pair of sneakers, and slowly, but confidently, went down the two flights of stairs to the basement. Dina was already downstairs and in the middle of her second set of standing military presses. When she spotted Peter she finished her set and placed the barbell on the floor.

“I glad you decided to join me,” she said. “Come here by the bench and we’ll start you with the bench press. I’ll demonstrate the exercise and when I’m done I’ll adjust the weight for you.”

Peter watched as she lay down on the bench and reached up for the bar, which she had been using the day before. She explained where to place his hands and how to do the exercise. As she forced the bar up and down she gave him pointers about how to get the most out of each movement.

She made it look so easy, the two-hundred-five pound bar moved up and down smoothly and slowly twelve times before she re-racked it. Getting up she asked Peter, “How much do you weigh.”

“About one hundred and ten pounds.”

“Oh, okay; let’s take off all the plates and start you out with just the bar and go up from there.”

Already embarrassed, Peter took his position on the bench, grabbed the bar where Dina showed him and began to push the bar up and down.

“Slow down, it’s not a race; just concentrate on moving the bar up and down.”

After twelve reps, Dina said, “That looked too easy, let’s add twenty pounds.”

This time it took a lot more effort to raise the bar. After twelve reps Peter was glad to be finished.

“Good job, Peter; we’ll stop here and move on to the next exercise.”

She led him through several other exercises; military presses, one arm and two arm curls, butterflies, and one-arm rows. By the time she was done with him he felt totally exhausted.

“That’s enough for today, we don’t want to over-work you; you’re going to be sore tomorrow as it is. Besides, my friend is coming over this afternoon for our scheduled sparring session, so I don’t want to tire myself out either. Why don’t you go shower and I’ll finish up here.”

As Peter ascended the stairs, he was disappointed that circumstances didn’t lend themselves to him making contact with her. Sure he could’ve just reached out and grabbed her arm, but that could lead to a misunderstanding, which could be hazardous to his health. He’d have to wait and bide his time.

Early that afternoon the phone rang. Dina was, once again down in the gym, so Peter picked up the phone.

Before he could identify himself, the guy on the other end said that something had come up and that he could not make his sparring session with Dina. “Please tell her I’m sorry and that I’ll see her next week.”

After he hung up, Peter changed into a pair of gym shorts and a tee-shirt to increase his chance to make contact with Dina. Going downstairs he found her standing in the center of the mat covered area performing a series of graceful movements, which he knew had something to do with martial arts.

“Dina that guy who was going to come over this afternoon just called to tell you that something came up and that he’d have to cancel today and he’ll see you next week.”

“Shit, I was really looking forward to our session today. He beat me last week and I was hoping to return the favor.”

“Dina, if you don’t mind why don’t I take his place.”

Skeptically, she asked him: “Do you have any experience in mixed martial arts fighting?”

“Yes, I did some fighting in college,” he said. In reality he had taken a course in self-defense and had never actually fought anyone.

“I don’t know; I outweigh you by more than sixty pounds. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, I owe you and your father so much for everything you’re doing for me, it’s the least I can do.”

“Okay, just be aware that in the ring I’m very competitive and I may hurt you, so if you’re hurt please say so and quit.”

She handed him a pair of fingerless padded gloves and a mouthpiece, and then retreated to her side of the mats. Peter slipped on his gloves, concerned that he had very little exposed skin to make contact with. While he was concentrating on his predicament, Dina pulled off her sweats, revealing even more of her muscular body. She was dressed in a sports bra and gym shorts. Peter knew that this was it; he’d only have a short time to make as much skin-to-skin contact as possible before she completely overpowered him. So, taking off his shirt, he stood opposite her in a stance that more closely resembled that of a wrestler than a fighter. The difference in their physiques could not be more apparent; he looked like a child compared to her.

Reaching back she hit the timer and at the sound of the bell, walked slowly towards him. Before he knew what hit him, Peter felt more pain than he had ever felt in his life as he was hit with a left and right on the jaw. As his vision blurred, he found himself staring at the bottom of her foot, stopped within an inch of his face. He fell to one knee as she pulled her foot back.

“Peter, you said you’ve fought before; are you crazy, I could have killed you.”

He barely heard her over the ringing in his ears. Thinking that he had one last chance, he gathered up all the energy he could and launched himself at her, his arms locking around her neck.

Everything went black for several moments. Then, suddenly, images flashed into his mind. Images of school plays; in the audience a young woman standing, clapping enthusiastically, and an empty chair next to her. The image changed. This time the scene was a busy street; a young girl getting on a bus paused, waved goodbye, and boarded. She found a seat near the back and was waving again. A young man, two rows away, stands as the bus begins to pull away from the curb; he appears to be shouting something. Then there’s a flash of blinding light and a deafening boom and suddenly the bus is turned into a pile of flaming debris.

The scene changes again. Now she is in a hospital room, standing at the bedside of woman, same woman from before, only older and apparently very sick. There are also two other children, all are crying as the woman’s eyes close and a monitor alarm sounds. The children are led out of the room as nurses enter the room. A man is running down the hall towards them. He throws his arms around the two older children and motions for the third child to join him. Instead the child turns her back to him.

Again the scene changes; this time it portrays the chaos of war. A vehicle explodes, then there’s a second explosion, closer this time, followed by searing pain and darkness. The darkness fades replaced by a group of teenaged boys with guns and knives surrounding her; she’s tied by hands and feet to a bed. Suddenly the pain starts again; knives are dragged across her breasts and across her chest, arms, stomach and legs. Now a new form of torture: lit cigarettes are poked into her body. First, the tallest of her captors drops his pants and rapes her, when he’s finished another, followed by a third and then a fourth and a fifth. Mercifully, elders intervene and the torture stops and the now she’s back in a hospital bed, her injuries are severe but not life threatening. Her commander informs her that all of her comrades are dead. She’s relieved from duty pending a military inquiry.