suppose so. To most people Kung Fu is martial arts or karate, and I practice a form of karate.”
Sheri claps her hands. “Show me something. I love that stuff!”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jackson, but that’s not the way it works. I don’t break boards with my hands or blocks of ice with my head… nothing like that. I just think karate is a very practical way to stay in condition. But I’m not a showman. There are karate masters who do all sorts of imaginative and unbelievable things as a demonstration of their chi or inner strength. It is very natural to them and they have trained their minds and bodies to perform those functions. Things that would be impossible for someone who does not have that training… and the training takes years. It doesn’t come easily.”
In truth, I am a fifth degree black belt in Isshin Ryu karate, the most deadly form of karate practiced today.
Every move is designed to kill or maim your opponent. I learned karate when I was a teenager and I pursued it when I went to Asia during the Viet Nam conflict. All that is another time and place, but karate has remained a part of my life, spiritually as well as physically.
I have never used karate out of the gym or dojo since leaving the service. However, karate kept me alive more than once while I was in combat. Perhaps to be honest those fights were equal parts karate and street fighting. In reality those occasions were few, of course, but memorable. That’s the extreme physical side of karate and I have seldom had to resort to violence in any situation to achieve a particular goal. Normally karate is a blend of physical and mental conditioning to help achieve balance in one’s existence.
Sheri is looking at me rather intently right now, stirring me out of my reverie. I smile and attempt to change the subject.
“I hope I can join you and Mr. Jackson on your run sometime. What time do you usually go?”
“Late morning is best for us. A.J. isn’t a very early riser. In his business he often stays up late, so he’s on a different schedule than the rest of the world. But you’re welcome to join us anytime.”
“I’m afraid late morning wouldn’t do for me. I have work to do during the day, so I’ll have to get my running in a bit earlier.”
Sheri nods. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. In the meantime, if I don’t get that husband of mine going, it will be afternoon before we get started.”
She finishes her juice, rinses her glass and places it on the counter. Waving good-bye, she leaves the room with a bounce in her step. Now it’s time for me to get back to work. Next on the agenda, meet the security guys.
CHAPTER 5
My secret agent, Martha, told me there are two security men, or, at least, people who perform that function, on the staff: Steve Marshall and the man I met the first day, ‘Bear’ Street. They are personal bodyguards for A.J. and apparent long-time friends. Although Martha did not say much about the men, she volunteered the fact that the one called Bear, bothered her. She thinks he is very rough, and mean to boot. She says everyone gives this guy a wide berth. No sense courting trouble. What little I’ve seen of him, I can understand their reaction.
Leaving the kitchen, I see two men talking near an open door to the garage. Marshall and Street, no doubt. This will be a good opportunity to talk with them for a minute and then take a look at the apartments over the garage. The men have spotted me as I cross the drive and they stop talking as I approach.
It’s time for my formula winning smile and standard greeting: “Hello, I’m Philip Richards… the new manager here… I’m trying to meet all the other members of the staff today.”
With this I extend my hand to the man I believe to be Steve Marshall. Tall, lean with a gym-built body, he accepts my handshake in a half-hearted manner, mumbles his name and looks away. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but
Sheri claps her hands. “Show me something. I love that stuff!”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jackson, but that’s not the way it works. I don’t break boards with my hands or blocks of ice with my head… nothing like that. I just think karate is a very practical way to stay in condition. But I’m not a showman. There are karate masters who do all sorts of imaginative and unbelievable things as a demonstration of their chi or inner strength. It is very natural to them and they have trained their minds and bodies to perform those functions. Things that would be impossible for someone who does not have that training… and the training takes years. It doesn’t come easily.”
In truth, I am a fifth degree black belt in Isshin Ryu karate, the most deadly form of karate practiced today.
Every move is designed to kill or maim your opponent. I learned karate when I was a teenager and I pursued it when I went to Asia during the Viet Nam conflict. All that is another time and place, but karate has remained a part of my life, spiritually as well as physically.
I have never used karate out of the gym or dojo since leaving the service. However, karate kept me alive more than once while I was in combat. Perhaps to be honest those fights were equal parts karate and street fighting. In reality those occasions were few, of course, but memorable. That’s the extreme physical side of karate and I have seldom had to resort to violence in any situation to achieve a particular goal. Normally karate is a blend of physical and mental conditioning to help achieve balance in one’s existence.
Sheri is looking at me rather intently right now, stirring me out of my reverie. I smile and attempt to change the subject.
“I hope I can join you and Mr. Jackson on your run sometime. What time do you usually go?”
“Late morning is best for us. A.J. isn’t a very early riser. In his business he often stays up late, so he’s on a different schedule than the rest of the world. But you’re welcome to join us anytime.”
“I’m afraid late morning wouldn’t do for me. I have work to do during the day, so I’ll have to get my running in a bit earlier.”
Sheri nods. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. In the meantime, if I don’t get that husband of mine going, it will be afternoon before we get started.”
She finishes her juice, rinses her glass and places it on the counter. Waving good-bye, she leaves the room with a bounce in her step. Now it’s time for me to get back to work. Next on the agenda, meet the security guys.
CHAPTER 5
My secret agent, Martha, told me there are two security men, or, at least, people who perform that function, on the staff: Steve Marshall and the man I met the first day, ‘Bear’ Street. They are personal bodyguards for A.J. and apparent long-time friends. Although Martha did not say much about the men, she volunteered the fact that the one called Bear, bothered her. She thinks he is very rough, and mean to boot. She says everyone gives this guy a wide berth. No sense courting trouble. What little I’ve seen of him, I can understand their reaction.
Leaving the kitchen, I see two men talking near an open door to the garage. Marshall and Street, no doubt. This will be a good opportunity to talk with them for a minute and then take a look at the apartments over the garage. The men have spotted me as I cross the drive and they stop talking as I approach.
It’s time for my formula winning smile and standard greeting: “Hello, I’m Philip Richards… the new manager here… I’m trying to meet all the other members of the staff today.”
With this I extend my hand to the man I believe to be Steve Marshall. Tall, lean with a gym-built body, he accepts my handshake in a half-hearted manner, mumbles his name and looks away. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but
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