couldn’t kick either, Shulman?” Rudolph said. “Zo now you help ze new girl learn to kick.”
Barry grimaced and waited until Rudolph had moved on before holding up a cushion towards me. He pointed at the centre of the cushion with a sheepish look.
“Try to hook your heels over here,” he said. “Try not to dislocate my shoulder.”
I tried to growl at him instead.
“So why’re you here?” Barry said in a casual, bantering tone.
“I want to protect myself,” I replied, still growling. “Isn’t it obvious? Why is anyone here?”
Barry got a thoughtful look on his face and dropped his cushion for a minute.
“Well, I don’t suppose you’re interested in martial arts, or you would’ve signed up at some martial arts school. Most people who come here, it’s because someone attacked them. And they weren’t prepared. And now they want to be prepared. Take me, for example.” He adjusted the thin, wire-framed glasses on his nose. “I thought I was safe. I thought I was invulnerable. After all, we had the most state-of-the-art alarm system money could buy. So when that asshole broke into my home... Oh, but you don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? You see, I came here cos some dude broke into my home...”
“I know,” I interrupted him. “You told us last class. Remember?”
“Oh?”
Barry’s eyebrows arched in surprise. His glasses fell down his nose, and he pushed them up again.
“Oh. I guess I did. So now you know my story. What’s yours?”
I only shook my head and aimed a kick at his unprotected shoulder. As my heel ground into his bone, he let out a stricken howl. Rudolph glanced over.
“You dropped your guard, Shulman!” he hollered. “Never drop your guard.”
After class Rudolph pulled me aside.
“What’s his name, Annasuya?” he said without any preamble. “Ze shithead who attacked you. Who was he?”
I clamped my lips shut.
“What makes you think anyone attacked me? And if anyone had, why the hell would I tell you?”
Rudolph shrugged.
“I’m just interested why people come here,” he said. And he let me go.
I could see he wasn’t used to people refusing to answer his questions. He scrutinized my every move until I left the gym.
*
I got more of the same sort of grilling at my private session with Dr. Rheinhardt. In the end I’d caved and let Calvin pay for private sessions for me. But I was starting to question the wisdom of my decision, because I felt like all Dr. Rheinhardt did the whole hour was give me the third degree.
“I told you, I don’t feel like talking about what happened.” I stirred a plastic stick through my cold coffee.
I shifted about on the uncomfortable sofa. I had thought only psychiatrists used couches. Dr. Rheinhardt’s couch was covered with worn velour upholstery in a sort of sickly greenish-gold colour, so faded I couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be green or gold. Unlike most sofas, this one had unsteady, old-fashioned wooden claws. One of the four claws was shorter than the others, and the sofa kept rocking back and forth.
“Did you know that three-legged objects never rock?” I tried to drop the hint to Dr. Rheinhardt.
He only stared at me with his eyes popping out of his face.
“Pardon me?” he said.
“Your sofa,” I pointed out.
Dr. Rheinhardt only stared at me some more. I wondered what they teach in psychology school. Did he think he was going to uncover my secrets just by staring at me? He pressed his fingertips together, forming a tent in front of his face.
“So, Annasuya... It is Annasuya, right? Or do you have a nickname that you habitually use? Annasuya is quite a mouthful.”
I shrugged.
“In fact, it’s actually Annasuya Rose. I like people to add in the ‘Rose’. But at any rate, if I did have a nickname, why would I tell it to you? If I had a nick, I’d only let my friends use it.”
Dr. Rheinhardt dropped his gaze and made some notes in his omnipresent notebook. I could just
Barry grimaced and waited until Rudolph had moved on before holding up a cushion towards me. He pointed at the centre of the cushion with a sheepish look.
“Try to hook your heels over here,” he said. “Try not to dislocate my shoulder.”
I tried to growl at him instead.
“So why’re you here?” Barry said in a casual, bantering tone.
“I want to protect myself,” I replied, still growling. “Isn’t it obvious? Why is anyone here?”
Barry got a thoughtful look on his face and dropped his cushion for a minute.
“Well, I don’t suppose you’re interested in martial arts, or you would’ve signed up at some martial arts school. Most people who come here, it’s because someone attacked them. And they weren’t prepared. And now they want to be prepared. Take me, for example.” He adjusted the thin, wire-framed glasses on his nose. “I thought I was safe. I thought I was invulnerable. After all, we had the most state-of-the-art alarm system money could buy. So when that asshole broke into my home... Oh, but you don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? You see, I came here cos some dude broke into my home...”
“I know,” I interrupted him. “You told us last class. Remember?”
“Oh?”
Barry’s eyebrows arched in surprise. His glasses fell down his nose, and he pushed them up again.
“Oh. I guess I did. So now you know my story. What’s yours?”
I only shook my head and aimed a kick at his unprotected shoulder. As my heel ground into his bone, he let out a stricken howl. Rudolph glanced over.
“You dropped your guard, Shulman!” he hollered. “Never drop your guard.”
After class Rudolph pulled me aside.
“What’s his name, Annasuya?” he said without any preamble. “Ze shithead who attacked you. Who was he?”
I clamped my lips shut.
“What makes you think anyone attacked me? And if anyone had, why the hell would I tell you?”
Rudolph shrugged.
“I’m just interested why people come here,” he said. And he let me go.
I could see he wasn’t used to people refusing to answer his questions. He scrutinized my every move until I left the gym.
*
I got more of the same sort of grilling at my private session with Dr. Rheinhardt. In the end I’d caved and let Calvin pay for private sessions for me. But I was starting to question the wisdom of my decision, because I felt like all Dr. Rheinhardt did the whole hour was give me the third degree.
“I told you, I don’t feel like talking about what happened.” I stirred a plastic stick through my cold coffee.
I shifted about on the uncomfortable sofa. I had thought only psychiatrists used couches. Dr. Rheinhardt’s couch was covered with worn velour upholstery in a sort of sickly greenish-gold colour, so faded I couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be green or gold. Unlike most sofas, this one had unsteady, old-fashioned wooden claws. One of the four claws was shorter than the others, and the sofa kept rocking back and forth.
“Did you know that three-legged objects never rock?” I tried to drop the hint to Dr. Rheinhardt.
He only stared at me with his eyes popping out of his face.
“Pardon me?” he said.
“Your sofa,” I pointed out.
Dr. Rheinhardt only stared at me some more. I wondered what they teach in psychology school. Did he think he was going to uncover my secrets just by staring at me? He pressed his fingertips together, forming a tent in front of his face.
“So, Annasuya... It is Annasuya, right? Or do you have a nickname that you habitually use? Annasuya is quite a mouthful.”
I shrugged.
“In fact, it’s actually Annasuya Rose. I like people to add in the ‘Rose’. But at any rate, if I did have a nickname, why would I tell it to you? If I had a nick, I’d only let my friends use it.”
Dr. Rheinhardt dropped his gaze and made some notes in his omnipresent notebook. I could just
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