Out to the Woodshed

Richard followed Mister Bracken outside, where he stripped to the waist in the chill gray morning air before his commander, who was doing some ritualistic looking fistic exercises, and stretching his legs as well, in an odd, almost squatting posture. He heard something dragging behind and beneath him and turned to see Stanley comically draped in Mister Bracken’s range coat, the great black hat shielding his entire face as he peered out from beneath it.

Yes, the human beast is a readymade spectator to the trials of men. This is most fascinating. They appear almost like primitive shaman the way they pose and pace as they face off.

Then, the form of Jan intensified and he lowered his stance and uttered a guttural challenge which Richard assumed was in Japanese, this obviously being the Japanese pugilistic art called karate.

The crude sound does send a chill up one’s spine.

In response Randy began to dance like a cobra set out from its pot and summoned by a Hindu piper. The tall thin man’s movements were languid, flowing and serene, the opposite of the sharp crisp movements of the older man. Suddenly, as the much thinner young man circled and raised himself high on one foot Jan burst forward with a double step advance and a series of punches too fast for the eye to see. The younger man though, cavorted out of the way like some giant monkey in denim pants, avoiding any contact.

By the small tip-toe jumping of Stanley beneath him he could tell that the boy favored Mister Bracken in this set-to. Richard did not fancy a winner, but rather observed the fight as the Founder of the Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain, a student of human behavior.

Jan retreated to his intense posture and then exploded in another attempt to cutoff the circling Randy. A fist, nearly too fast for Burton to see, flashed out towards Randy’s chin only to be deflected with a slapping hand.

As the lanky Bracken glided out of range his master pursued and the younger man flicked out the fingertips of his left hand, like the very head of a striking cobra, and gouged a deep furrow over the right eye of Jan, causing blood to flow down into the eye.

Yes, an evil combatant he is—but not discourteous. Jan knows well that that strike might have put out his eye, and gathers himself as if in self-chastisement, ready for another assault on the young fiend.

As Stanley hopped in glee for his hero they heard above the opening of a window followed by the voice of Mrs. Ham, “Now come on Mister Stevenson you are a strapping man. Run that scoundrel to ground. He’s a dirty fighter and has scuffed my floors again besides!”

Jan seemed almost embarrassed as Randy circled like a prancing demon out of the abyss. The woman above then hung her head out the window and scolded Burton, “And Mister Richard, I would expect a well-heeled gentlemen such as you to insist upon some decorum and not permit such foul tactics.”

By the Furies, what a nagging injustice this woman is.

“But of course Mrs. Grundy, it will be as you say. Now Mister Bracken, no poking with the fingers.”

Randy stepped away with a grin and said, “Yes, Rick, and then slapped Jan across the face with his barefoot with such velocity one would have expected the gentleman to hit the cobbles, but he simply returned to his fortress of a boxing pose and continued to press the action. Mrs. Ham’s cry of indignation was accompanied by a thrown dime-novel that smacked Mister Bracken across the head and gave Jan an opening for an attack, which he honorably declined to exploit.

It was now Burton’s chance to admonish. “Now Mrs. Ham, this is an affair of honor and we shall have none of that!”

In response the irate housekeeper encouraged her hero, “Get into him Sir. Beat the white off of him!”

Seeming to lash out at the Negro housekeeper above through Jan, Randy attempted another kick at the older man, only to his ribs this time, and was foiled, as the older man, having expected this, caught the kick like he was a knight of old couching a lance, and threw the younger man to the pavement with another guttural Japanese oath. With this development the woman above squealed with glee even as little Stanley winced. Jan now helped Randy to his feet and they returned to their marks to resume the contest.

This form of pugilism has much to recommend it above our own fistic tradition. I should seek instruction in this from Jan on gaining The Future.

Randy was now circling and bounding and feinting like the very Devil himself as Jan attempted to cut him off with expert footwork and sharp straight punches. The men each had the other’s rhythm now and there was a long bout of scientific exchanges before Randy scored with a leaping strike with the heel of his hand to the older man’s forehead, which opened up a jagged wound over the left eye. As the men separated blood was pooling into Jan’s eyes and it was clear that his vision was much impaired. The woman above pleaded for Burton to intervene and Stanley was now waving his hero’s hat in victory, as Randy said, “That’s three epons to one Sensei. Do we stop here or go for the knockout?”

Jan, seemingly infuriated with himself waved off these various pleas for an end to the affair, and readied himself to continue, blinded by his own blood.

Good show of bottom Old Man. Good show.

Randy concurred, “To the knockout Sensei.”

The sly fiend than adopted an uncharacteristic fighting stance, mimicking the posture of Jan, and fighting toe-to-toe in his master’s precise fashion, obviously intent on abandoning his evasive tactics now that his man was all but helpless, in order to finish him.

Napoleon would agree Mister Bracken. But I wager Caesar and Alexander would shake their heads.

The men came together with their harsh oaths and struck each other as one, Mister Bracken’s fist buried itself in his master’s paunch, even as the back of Jan’s wrist slammed into Randy’s nose, causing the organ to explode.

Mrs. Ham cheered from above as Stanley hid his head behind his hero’s hat. Randy blew a great quantity of blood onto the pavement out of his broken nose, set the snapped nose between his bloody fingers, and resumed his stance.

The men clashed in a like manner again. They struck each other nearly at once. The back of Randy’s fist smashed into Jan’s cheekbone. The older man withstood this blow as he sunk in an odd strike of his own with a sharp pivot. The inside of the karate master’s wrist seemed to strike Randy just below the heart, which caused the man to collapse. Jan stood above him as Mrs. Ham could be heard cheering and tripping over furniture above in her mad rush to come greet the victor even as little Stanley began tending to his fallen man, resting the bald white head on his small lap.

That was invigorating. I must try this karate pugilism myself some day. Yes, an announcement, “Bravo Mister Stevenson and a noble opponent you did contend with. The great captains of antiquity were rolling over in their graves when he squared up with you for a set-to finish.”

By now Mrs. Ham was setting water to boil and laying out towels and ointments in the kitchen as Jan helped his man to his feet with some stern words, “You may make security decisions, even lethal ones, without clearing them through me. But! But!! If you ever kill for me, personally, again I will never forgive you. And another thing never let me win a fight again.”

Randy just gasped, “Yes Sensei,” as they all four headed inside.

Jan then whispered so that Burton could barely hear, “I’m pissed about the Donessa. I should have figured it out then. The Don didn’t suffer did he?”

Randy seemed shockingly contrite. “It was clean, and an operational necessity. His partner was bent on hooking up with Rick—they knew he was inbound.”

It is as you suspected. This man killed the two adventurers that Rice spoke of in his book, so that he and his boss could fall in with you!

Yes Richard, your dark half is every bit as dark as you supposed.

That may be, though he remains my benefactor.

Would he have taken you through coercion?

That is hardly likely with our good karate master at the nominal helm of their amazing little enterprise.

In any event, with these two safe-guarding your passage through Time, and considering your own not inconsiderable abilities, it is hardly likely that you shall be accosted. In any event it will be a much more secure expedition than any other you have set out on.

I should hope so. Let there never be another Somali fiasco.