Fightback by Steve Voake

on the floor?
    â€˜You must stand naturally,’ Chiang told him when he was on his feet again. ‘This way you are a blank page and there is nothing for anyone to read. No one knows what you are going to do.’
    â€˜Including me,’ said Kier.
    â€˜Including you,’ agreed Chiang.
    Kier frowned.
    â€˜So how’s that going to help?’
    â€˜Because if you do not know, then your opponent will be unable to guess. You will retain the element of surprise.’
    Kier stared at Chiang, trying to make sense of what he said. But it was no good. The man talked in riddles.
    â€˜Then how will I know what to do?’
    â€˜You must learn to separate thought from action. You must train your body so that it can react to each new situation as it arises.’
    Chiang walked over to the window ledge and filled the shallow bowl with water from the jug. He took a red flower and a yellow flower from the vase,then returned with the bowl and placed it carefully on the floor between them. When Kier raised his eyebrows, Chiang simply inclined his head in the direction of the bowl and together they watched the water settle back into stillness.
    â€˜What do you see?’ asked Chiang.
    â€˜I see a bowl of water.’
    â€˜And what do you notice about it?’
    â€˜Umm, the bowl is white.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜It’s made from clay.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Kier was confused. What else was he supposed to say?
    â€˜Tell me about the water.’
    â€˜It’s clear.’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜It’s not moving. The water is still.’
    â€˜Was it moving before?’
    â€˜Yes, when you carried it.’
    â€˜But there is no movement now?’
    Kier stared at the water and saw only his reflection in its smooth surface.
    â€˜No. The water is still.’
    With lightning speed Chiang slapped his hand into the bowl, sending droplets of water flying in all directions. Some fell on to the carpet, some on toKier’s cotton trousers and some on to the stones. Kier’s heart beat faster at this unexpected movement, but he remained silent as Chiang picked up the red flower and handed it to him.
    â€˜The day is warm and the water will soon be gone,’ he said. ‘You must move quickly and place a petal on every droplet you see.’
    Kier was about to ask why when he realised there was no point. He was already becoming familiar with Chiang’s strange way of talking and knew it was best just to get on with it. Moving carefully, he searched for the dark spots where the water had landed and placed a red petal on each one. When he sat down again, he saw that there were still some petals left, so he tore them off and pressed them to the spots where the water had fallen on to his knees. Then he put the flower stalk to one side and stared at the patterns he had made, the petals dancing like embers from a fire.
    Chiang fetched the jug of water, refilled the bowl and waited for the water to settle. Then he nodded in Kier’s direction.
    â€˜Now you.’
    Kier raised his hand and slapped the water just as Chiang had done. Without a word, Chiang picked up the yellow flower and began pulling off its petals, placing them on the spots where the water had fallen.
    â€˜What do you see?’ he asked when he was sitting opposite Kier once more.
    â€˜I see a new pattern.’
    â€˜Is it different from before?’
    Kier looked at the sprinkling of yellow petals and saw how some had fallen in the gaps between the red petals, while others had fallen upon them or beyond.
    â€˜Some parts are the same. But mostly it’s different.’
    â€˜So you think the water is alive?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Then how does it know to do something different each time it is slapped?’
    â€˜It doesn’t know. It just does it.’
    â€˜It just does it?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜I see. But you agree that it does it differently each time?’
    â€˜I guess