Chapter 3

The blood was pounding in his ears as he struggled to regain consciousness. He could hear Betsy say, “I think they’re coming around.”

He tried to remember what had happened. Ling had picked a pole as her weapon and they were evenly matched. Once the round had begun, the poles had moved fast as lightening, reaching out to invade the space of the opponent. For three minutes, it was swing, thrust, counter-thrust, sweep, block, and parry. The sharp clicks as stick met stick sounded like a Geiger counter in the middle of a nuclear reactor. He had thrust the pole forward and that was the last thing he remembered. She was good, because he never saw her blow coming.

He asked, “How did she hit me?”

From a few feet away, he heard Ling ask, “How did he hit me?”

He opened his eyes and saw Betsy bouncing around in front of him. She was smiling, her eyes flicking from him to Ling lying in a bed next to his. She said, “That was so cool. Wow. Your poles broke and the end of your own pole hit each of you in your own head!”

Ed said, “The match was declared a draw. I don’t suggest a rematch.”

Betsy bounced around to the other side of the bed. Once there, she said, “I’m glad you’re not a pervert. Momma Ling said that I could hurt you, but I think that would have been pretty tough.”

He couldn’t believe how easily the young girl talked about hurting someone. There was no doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth. Her mother had told her that she could hurt him if he was a pervert. Despite the constant movement of her body, it didn’t look like it was tiring her in any fashion. She’d have worn him down and taken him when he didn’t have the energy to respond. He replied, “I’m glad I’m not a pervert, too. I think you could have seriously hurt me.”

Shaking his head, Ed looked over at his daughter and asked, “What did I say about hurting people?”

“Well, if he was a pervert it would have been okay to hurt him. Aren’t we supposed to protect the weak from the strong?”

“Your mother, you, and I need to have a long talk,” answered Ed. There were times when he wondered if Ling had too much influence over Betsy.

It was tiring Oscar to watch her as she bounced around. He looked over the edge of the bed and saw that she had some sort of ring around her ankle with a ball attached to it by a short rope. The ball was swinging around in a wide circle and she was jumping over the rope that ran between the ring and ball with her other foot. At least that explained her bouncing. Frowning, he asked, “Where do you get all of that energy?”

“Momma Ling said that I saved it all up while she was pregnant with me and have been letting it loose ever since then,” answered Betsy with a smile. Her jumping seemed to double in speed.

Oscar glanced down and noticed that she had now had another ring around her other ankle so that she was jumping two balls. Frowning, he said, “I didn’t think that was possible.”

Shaking his head, Ed said, “We consider this standing still for her.”

“Oh,” replied Oscar.

The Grand Druid entered the room and said, “I wouldn’t call that demonstration back there keeping a low profile. The semester is less than a day old and half of the students are wondering if you are a Druid.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize that she was going to declare that I had challenged her. I’ll admit that the idea of not fighting her never entered my mind,” replied Oscar.

The truth of his words was obvious. Ling had created the situation and Oscar had gone along with it quite willingly. Ed said, “The damage has been done.”

The Grand Druid asked, “Ed, would you mind leaving the room? We have to practice lying now and I’d hate to hurt your ears.”

As Ed left the room, he called back, “Oh the tragedy of modern times. Imagine that, the head of a religion plotting about how to lie. This ought to be rich.”

The Grand Druid laughed as Ed left the room. Oscar sat up and looked around for a second before he said, “I suggest that we tell everyone that Ling and I are from competing dojos. It is close enough to the truth.”

Betsy said, “Does that mean I can train with you some time?”

After studying her daughter for a minute, Ling said, “He said competing dojos. That’s not allowed.”

“Why?” asked Betsy stamping her foot in frustration.

“Because I’m a lousy teacher,” answered Oscar. “I’ve never trained and wouldn’t know where to begin training someone else. We each earn our skill in different ways. Ling has earned hers the hard way, through hard work. I earned mine the difficult way, through service to the God. You have to earn yours in the same way as Ling.”

The answer satisfied Betsy, as she understood about service to the Gods and Goddesses. It pleased Ling since she didn’t have to argue with her daughter. Sometimes her daughter was just as stubborn as she was. Oliver actually thought the story of competing dojos was convenient. As far as he was concerned, Oscar could talk about his military service without exposing the fact that he was a Druid. Clapping his hands, he said, “I’m glad that is settled. I assume that everyone has places to go.”

Oscar stood and looked in a mirror. There was a large round red spot in the middle of his forehead. Ling had a matching spot on her forehead. He turned to her, pointed to his forehead, and said, “First time anyone hit me in a fight. You’re good.”

“I can now say that I’ve fought my equal,” answered Ling with a smile as she pointed to her spot. She added, “Took a God to create it though.”

Oscar laughed as he started to leave the infirmary. He hadn’t taken three steps before Oliver asked, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?”

“Your clothes. You’re not supposed to be wearing any,” reminded the Grand Druid.

After shedding his Gi, Oscar left the infirmary to head to the next meeting on his itinerary. Checking the time, he groaned as he realized that he had missed one of his study group meetings. It was already lunchtime and he was supposed to meet his roommates for a quick meal before they retired to their room for a little relaxation.

Entering the dining room, Oscar was met with applause from his fellow classmates. Looking around, he asked, “What?”

People shook their heads at his answer and returned to their meals. Oscar spotted his group in the corner table with relief. It was the same group of people as had been at dinner. He walked over to the table and took his seat. Smiling, he said, “Sorry about being late. My alarm clock didn’t manage to penetrate my unconscious state.”

Lisa said, “That was amazing. I couldn’t even see what you were doing, it was so fast.”

Sharon, looking over at Mark with a large grin, said, “Yeah. You moved almost as fast as Mark’s tongue.”

Laughing at the strange nature of the compliment, Oscar said, “I’m proud to be compared to something that my roommates find so satisfying.”

Mark blushed at the comments about his abilities at oral sex. He said, “No wonder you are so confident. Anyone that can fight that well never has to worry about what people think of them.”

The comment struck Oscar as wrong somehow. As he puzzled over it, Abby was trying to learn more about Mark’s oral gifts. Lisa was a little more direct in signaling her desire to experience his tongue as her hand moved under the table seeking out his source of pleasure. Mark found the attention flattering, particularly when Lisa claimed ownership of his cock. Oscar interrupted the discussion when he said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said about not having to worry about what people think of me. That’s wrong. Such an attitude would give me permission to do great harm.”

Greg, sitting across the table from Oscar, said, “You’re a lot deeper than you appear.”

Cole commented, “I think it would make it more difficult to laugh at yourself.”

Smiling as he thought about his past. Oscar had hated laughing at himself before his service to the God. He was a nerd and a klutz, a combination that made him a walking disaster area. Going through life being called hot dog or bologna had hurt. Oscar replied, “I don’t know. My ability to laugh at myself arose about the same time that my skill in the martial arts grew. There is a lot to be said about knowing that you can do something that others can’t.”

The waitress came over to the table and asked, “What do you want to eat?”

“The usual,” answered Oscar flippantly, realizing that he hadn’t even looked at the menu.

The waitress looked at Oscar without a clue as to what his usual lunch might be. She asked, “What’s that?”

“I don’t know, but I bet we’ll both know it by the end of the year.”

The waitress laughed at his joke and asked, “Seriously, what do you want?”

While reaching for the menu to see what they had, he quipped, “I’d really like a T-bone steak cooked medium rare with a baked potato on the side.”

“Okay,” answered the waitress as she wrote down the order. She asked, “What do you want to drink?”

Surprised that she didn’t think he was joking, he answered, “Iced tea.”

The waitress asked, “Anything else?”

“Ah, no,” answered Oscar as he opened the menu and started examining it. The waitress left to put in his order while he was still flipping though the pages of the menu looking at all of the meals that he could order. He was surprised to see that his order was on the menu. Looking up at his companions, he said, “I didn’t even know that was on the menu.”

Mark burst out laughing. He said, “It took me ten minutes to order my meal. I hadn’t even gotten past the third page when I decided that I had better say something.”

Sharon said, “I can’t get used to looking at a menu that doesn’t have any prices. I’ve always used the price to pick what I was going to eat.”

Wondering if Sharon was a gold digger, Lisa asked, “The highest price?”

“I wish,” answered Sharon realizing that without clothes to proclaim wealth or poverty, it was hard to tell the economic background of a person. She sighed as she said, “My family is dirt poor. There was no way that my parents could pay for college. They hoped I could get a basketball scholarship, but I just wasn’t good enough. Being tall isn’t enough to be a competitive athlete.”

As they chatted, an argument broke out at a nearby table. Oscar looked up to see what was the problem, but a Druid was already at the table. He listened as the Druid explained why both parties were in the wrong. As peace settled in the room, Abby said, “They are pretty serious about those rules. I was getting upset earlier and one of the Druids came over to me. She explained that while I might do things differently than the other person, I had no right to try to force them into doing it my way. So long as it was harming no one, the other person was free to do what ever they wanted.”

Gabby shook her head and said, “I just don’t buy that. There are right ways to do things and wrong ways to do them.”

Even though he knew the answer to his question, Oscar asked, “What makes a way to do something the wrong way?”

“If the way is inefficient, I suppose,” answered Gabby suddenly unsure of her conviction about right ways and wrong ways.

“Whose problem is it if it is inefficient?” asked Oscar with a wry smile.

Gabby frowned at the question and didn’t know how to answer. Finally, she said, “You sound just like one of those Druids.”

“I think I have been insulted,” replied Oscar with a laugh. His steak arrived and he looked it over. It was a magnificent cut of meat and cooked to perfection. He dug into his meal thinking that it was only lunchtime and he was already tired. Grinning, he looked up and said, “This steak is good. Definitely not grilled bologna.”

Listening to the conversation around the table, Oscar ate his lunch. The red spot in the center of his forehead continued to hurt. He knew that he would have a bruise later that day and it would be an ugly one. Hopefully it would be cleared up before he met Georgia the next weekend.

Finishing his steak, he pushed his plate away and sat back in his chair. He looked across the dining room seeing that it was littered with little points of tension as students reacted to the pressures of being in an unusual environment under surreal circumstances. Looking down at his cock, he knew that the sexual tension in the room contributed significantly to the edginess of his fellow students. In fact, he realized that every thing about the environment was intended to produce conflict.

A group of students approached the table and stopped. One of the guys said, “Oscar Meyers?”

Oscar looked at the group wondering what they wanted with him. He replied, “Yes, I’m Oscar.”

“We are your eleven o’clock study group,” replied one of the women.

Oscar apologized, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to miss the meeting.”

“Don’t worry. We saw you get knocked out,” replied the guy with a shake of his head. He had watched the fight amazed at how fast the action had been. The study group meeting earlier had been spent talking about the fight rather than the fact that it was supposed to be a study group. He added, “That was some fight.”

“In fact, all we could talk about was the fight. That was pretty amazing,” remarked the woman.

Oscar looked at her for a second and his cock reacted by immediately filling with blood. She had long flaming red hair, pale skin with light freckles, and a feminine body that had curves in all the right places. At least he was sitting and she couldn’t see that his erection was a result of seeing her. Looking at his roommates, Oscar said, “If you will excuse me, I should meet with my study group.”

Oscar left with his study group and sat at another one of the tables. They talked about how they should arrange their study activities. They listened to his suggestions on how to use the study time together with far more respect than his first study group. It appeared that his bout with Ling had changed public opinion. He was no longer viewed as being the class clown.

It didn’t take long for them to see the wisdom of Oscar’s strategy for the study group to cover new material rather than review the material. Throughout the discussion, Oscar’s cock just kept getting harder and harder each time he looked at the redhead. At least she didn’t notice the effect she was having on him. For the moment, there was nothing odd about a male student walking around with an erection.

When the group left, Oscar went over to the table and whispered to Lisa, “Can we slip out to the dorm room?”

Lisa looked down at his erection and smiled. In a voice that carried across the whole table, she said, “We can’t get back into the room now.”