Ftawwh 45)

My Dad took his place on one end of the mats and gave a simple bow without breaking eye contact with his challenger, who surprisingly returned it in perfect form.

Then they were on each other, if I had any doubts about this guy being a werewolf they got answered pretty quickly.

This was the first time I had seen a Werewolf cutting loose. Vest guy had been fast, but the man I thought was Neal's Uncle was even faster and knew what he was doing.

I could tell my Dad was holding back, but at the same time, he wasn't taking it all that easy on the guy. This was full contact. In less than five seconds the guy was bleeding and had broken bones.

Not that it was entirely one sided. Dad may have been smiling, but his teeth were bloody and the other guy had gotten some other good hits in. The challenger was using a mix of various martial arts, especially judo grips to try to hold my dad in place while the other guy tried to get a hit in.

They went at it for about half a minute before they broke apart, clothes torn and blood stained. My Dad gave the other guy a grin. “You’re good, but I’m done taking your measure. No disrespect, but I need to show off now.

I was able to track my Dad closing the gap between the two of them, but I’m not sure if anyone else did.

Neal’s possible uncle went flying into the red wall which was clear of bystanders due to the mats being set up against that wall. There was a crunching sound as the cement blocks of the wall gave way.

Surprising me, the uncle dropped down on his feet from the cracked wall with his guard up and managed to at least partially push away the next dozen or so attacks from my father so that the wall around him took more damage than he did.

But ultimately, he just couldn’t get free from being pressed, and eventually, something got through and dropped him down on his rear, still struggling to get up as my Dad stepped away with a cold, analytical look on his face.

The gym was pretty silent until Grandpa spoke up. "We all know you got more fight in you Kurt. But I think my kid is trying to figure out how to hit you hard enough to get you to give up without killing you. How about you let someone else have a shot at him."

Grandpa looked over at another older man. “Is your Dad ready to step up?”

The older man raised his hands palms forward. "Oh hell no! I don't heal up like you youngsters. Also, I pigged out on the Gouda and spiky sausage cracker sandwich things and I don’t want to puke them up. Someone else want to take a shot?”

Austin was already taking his socks off. Evans ran his hand down his face. “Austin? Really?”

The large boy glared at his friend. "He's a teacher, that means it will be a learning experience."

Then grabbed the smaller boy and threw him at my Dad while yelling “Get ‘em.”

My Dad caught the smaller boy with a full toothed grin on his face and spun him upside down as Ryan tried to grab at him, before tossing the boy at Neal’s uncle. “Catch please.” Then swept Austin’s legs out from under him as he tried to close in. He got as far as “Good hustle…”

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Just before I realized how many boys, and some girls, were ready to jump in. Too many people and Dad would have to hurt them unless he wanted to end up under a pile of werewolves. They would heal, but as my Grandfather said, “Pain still hurts.”

So I stepped up. It wasn’t all that different from Uncle Dave showing off group fighting. “Three at a time! Hold until I tell you, that you can go in, step out if you go off the mat until I decide you can go back in. “

I pointed. “Del, Dare, and the you with the curly hair. In!”

Del and her brother were fairly coordinated with each other as siblings would be, but curly hair just got in their way as Dad used him like a shield pulling him around by his arms or shirt like he was an extra in a Jackie Chan movie.

Whose action scenes Dad had used as part of his self training when he was my age due to a lack of instructors around to teach him as he was growing up in Great Grandmother’s hidden land.

“Austin, get up and stop faking. He isn’t going to let you grab at his feet and all you doing is being a tripping hazard for everyone else. You would have been off the mat if Kurt didn’t catch you Ryan, wait your turn to get back in.”

My Dad spun Dare around by the wrist and let him go to hit the edge of the mat and roll off the edge, much to my recent next door neighbor’s frustration as he pounded his fist on the ground. As he finished his spin Dad glared at me. "Sara! Stop helping them, you aren't the teacher here."

I twisted my lips and thought that over, deeply enough that Grandpa selected the next two people to go in. "Well, why aren't I. Or at least an assistant teacher. I am more than capable of teaching the basics while you focus on the advanced teaching.”

Dad pushed two teenagers off the edge of the mat with one of each of their arms locked behind their backs. "Because you're underage to work for one."

I threw up my hands at him, "So what? Is Grandpa's girlfriend going to bust you? And I know people my age have paper routes. That’s a job.”

He shot me a dark look. “Can we discuss this after your tournament? You don’t need the distraction right now.”

I glowered at him for a moment and then nodded. "Fair enough."

Glower, an angry or sullen look. With sullen being bad tempered and sulky or gloomy.

After another few minutes, it seemed like everyone who wanted a try at my Dad had gotten their chance when almost every older werewolf in the room began looking around and sniffing at the air.

My Dad held up his hand. “It’s okay, I asked him to swing by. I wanted you all to see what I want to train some of you to be able to deal with one day, how far away you are from that level, and to be able to recognize his type by smell if you haven’t met one before.

A short thin man with his graying hair cut short stood across the street from the Dojo and exchanged a nod through the open garage door with my Grandfather and my Dad. The man was wearing a simple navy blue suit and a red tie which he was carefully removing from his neck to wrap around his hand and stuff in his suit pocket as he waited.

My Dad began waving people aside from the path between the door and the mat. “That Gentleman is named Solomon Tuesday. At least at this time. My Grandmother met him once when she was a little girl and he had business with her father. My Grandmother hasn’t been a little girl since the early fifteen hundreds.”

Dad looked around the room. “He’s seen centuries in which our various kinds were hunted, and he not only survived but saved others.”

My Grandpa held out a round tin with the cap removed, “Everyone who wants to stay and watch this might want to rub some of this under their nose. Sal will still smell pretty bad, but at least not badly enough to make you turn your stomach.”

No one left, or passed on rubbing some of the ointment my Grandmother had made under their lip.

My Dad waved Mr. Tuesday over and into the Dojo. He had a bit of a sandalwood scent to him. At least to me.

Over the course of the fight, the red wall didn’t hold up after getting used as a springboard or a target for the kicks, throws, and grapples. Neither did the ceiling which Mr. Tuesday took advantage of to fly up through after shaking hands with my Dad when they called it a tie.

Both of them had put on a good show of what supernaturals other than Werewolves could do, techniques that could have passed for magic from my Dad. And things out of legend as Mr. Tuesday left after images of himself made from fog left behind him as he moved faster than I could see.

What was most impressive to me was that neither of them ever knocked or threw the other into one of the audience. This had been a highly staged demonstration instead of a spar.

It was only a tie because neither one of them could cut loose enough to show their full strength.

Austin looked down from where the Vampire had flown up into the sky, then over to my Dad.

“You can teach us to fight something like that?”

My father looked at him for a moment. “Someone. And my goal is to teach you to survive someone like that.”

The large boy nodded after a moment. “Good enough. For now.”

Ryan rolled his eyes at his friend. “Why don’t we try not getting knocked on our butts first. “Get “em” my ass.”

Austin grunted.