Walking out of the Napa Free Clinic, Jia Crawford rubs her sore left arm. A small bandage with cartoon pandas covers the painful area. She hates tetanus shots. All shots really. After pressing against a rusty nail during a recent trip to San Francisco she knew she didn’t have a choice. She had to get one. That doesn’t make her happy about it.
This all happened because Jia tried to get involved in something that was none of her business. She was with some friends and saw a couple guys in an abandoned building being mugged. What was she supposed to do, walk away?
There’s one silver lining in all of this. A few weeks ago she discovered her family has a secret history of martial arts going back generations. Her grandfather was one of the five heroes who helped save the world during World War II. She’s been begging her mother to train her ever since she found the truth but she’s resisted. She promised to teach her weeks ago, but she’s been leading her on. Waking up in the middle of the night to run barefoot up a mountain frustrates her more than it teaches her anything and that’s the extent of what she’s learned.
Her mom was probably hoping to frustrate her to the point she’d quit. It didn’t work though and after finding out her daughter almost got shot rescuing some random people, she agreed to train her for real.
Scanning the parking lot for her mother’s car, Jia finds her parked off to the side under a pair of trees. Since Jia doesn’t have a car her mom agreed to drive her. They left her father alone to run the family winery for the day. It’s a weekday so he should be fine. If a bus full of tourists show up though, she’d pay good money to see his face.
Plopping into the car, circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep, her mother gives her a strange look she can’t quite place. It’s not exactly sadness, but it’s certainly not joy either. It doesn’t last long. Soon they’re on their way back home. Neither of them’s good at small talk so they mostly ride in silence.
Pulling up to the house, they pass the winery where there’s no sign of customers. Jia starts to head inside but her mother stops her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Before Jia can respond, her mother rushes toward her and grabs her by the shoulder. She gives her mother a confused look before the woman pushes hard. She’s flipped into the air, falling hard on the rough gravel of their driveway. Her hands break her fall, scraped by the stones. She lets out a shout but quickly jumps to her feet. “What the hell mom! What was that about?”
Her mother turns and starts to walk away. “Never let your guard down. If you learn only one thing from me, let it be that. That will save your life more than all the fancy punches in the world. If you hadn’t let your guard down, you wouldn’t have poked yourself with a rusty nail and needed that shot this morning. You get into a fight with a mugger and instead of being hurt by them, you end up hurting yourself on a random nail.” She shakes her head. “Follow me.”
Jia reluctantly does as she’s told and is led into the field behind their house, right in front of their vineyard. Her mother starts emptying her pockets onto a large rock and she gestures that Jia should do the same. “We’ll start your training here. I want to start by getting a feel for what you know and can handle first.” Patting her pockets to make sure they’re empty, she walks away from the rock and into the field. “Attack me.”
Hearing her mother tell her to attack her is surreal. “Mom, you haven’t fought in what, twenty years? I’m one of the best in the state. I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
A wicked grin comes over her mother’s face. “Most children wait their whole lives for this chance. Go ahead and take it. I’m not asking you to take my head off. Just give me your best shot, like you would in one of your tournaments.”
Jia’s been competing in martial arts since high school. Since returning from college the one piece of structure she’s managed to put into her life’s competing in tournaments. She’s not the best she’s ever been but she’s in shape and she’s been practicing. That’s a lot more than her mother can say. She hasn’t fought in years. Jia’s never even seen her throw a punch.
With her mother not backing down, Jia decides to do as she asked. Maybe when she puts her on the ground she’ll see reason. Then they can get down to real training. Jia strikes at her mother with a strong but hesitant strike. Her mother, moving faster than Jia can ever remember seeing her, catches her wrist and arm and flips her through the air. All of the air goes out of her lungs and she hits like a bag of rocks. She lands awkwardly on her left arm.
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Letting out a moan of pain and clutching at her arm, she soon finds her mother standing over her. “Get back up, we’re just getting started.” Furious at her mother’s lack of concern, she still does what she’s told. The woman stands there waiting. Jia doesn’t need to be told to attack this time.
She rushes her mother and throws a high kick at her chest. Her mother blocks it like it’s nothing. She throws a series of blows which are all either ducked, dodged or blocked. Her mother suddenly stops turtling and attempts a leg sweep. It’s so fast she barely sees it but somehow she’s able to react in time and leap over it. Any feeling of triumph’s gone in an instant. She’s met by a hand to her chest before her feet are even back on the ground. Instead of landing on her feet, she’s right back on her back.
“Come on Jia. I haven’t fought in like twenty years.” That should be funny, especially coming from her mother who she’s never known to have a sense of humor. It’s hard to laugh through the pain though.
She gets up again but this time she doesn’t immediately rush her mother. She sits back, waiting for her mother to react. They stare at each other with very little emotion betrayed on either face. After a minute or so her mother’s expression cracks and she starts to smile. “There’s your first lesson and first success. Don’t fight from anger, don’t get caught up in the moment. Take your time, plan and always keep control of your situation. Very nicely done. I thought it’d take you longer.”
She’d love to protest but praise from her mother is rare and at least she’s not being flipped through the air. She nods. Her mother’s smile diminishes at this. “To your sensei you actually bow.”
At first Jia thinks this is a continuation of her mom’s newfound love of jokes but no smile comes to confirm this. Annoyed, she finally bows before the woman. “Good job. Now I’m going to demonstrate some techniques. Stand behind me and copy my every move. After a bit I’ll stand behind you and follow along with you. Keep in mind, if your form isn’t good I’ll take you down from behind in the same ways someone could in real life. You’re going to want to pay attention.”
This goes on for hours as Jia tries to copy every twitch and flick. Her mother gives names to each strike, each kick, each throw. To her credit, she demonstrates each a number of times. She doesn’t expect Jia to learn a move in a single attempt.
After going through ten moves, Jia and her mother switch positions and her mother again starts calling out names. The first two or three moves she executes without incident. When her mother says, “High Low Kick,” though, Jia feels herself slightly miss the timing of the move. She’s not far off and she hopes her mother won’t notice. Before she can even finish the attempt she feels her leg still on the ground being swept and she’s once again tumbling to the ground. She lands on her face, her nose being smashed in the process.
Being thrown around out here is really starting to hurt. She’s used to practicing on mats and in rooms with fans. It’s really warm for this time of year and the dirt definitely doesn’t feel like a mat. It could be worse, they could be doing this on cement, but it’s definitely not fun.
They fall into a pattern. Her mother shows new moves and is patient while teaching but once she’s done she expects them to stay taught. The way she moves is remarkable, with a grace and agility Jia has never seen in her. After they’ve learned a variety of moves her mother asks her to attack her once again. She tries but it’s clear she’s being toyed with. Her frustration starts to bubble over. She kicks the dirt and storms toward the rock where she left her things.
Her mother follows. “I need you to let go Jia. I know that isn’t easy but you need to stop thinking so much. You are critical of your every move, you analyze every moment. That won’t work. You can’t move with the speed and abandon you need to unless you do it almost entirely on instinct, on feel. You can’t develop that feel until you get out of your own head.”
She turns to her mom, feeling like she’s going to explode. “How do I learn the moves without thinking? If I’m off even a hair you knock me to the ground.”
Putting a hand on her shoulder, her mother looks into her eyes. “That’s why it’s hard. Come back and let’s go again.”
Relenting, Jia returns to training. She strikes over and over but continues to feel she’s nowhere close. As the day goes on though, she does start to feel at least slightly faster. She’s still missing badly, but not as badly as she was this morning.
By the time her mother helps her off the ground for what has to be the fiftieth time and tells her they’re done for the day, Jia’s entire body feels like one big bruise. Returning to the rock, she’s shocked to see it’s been four hours. That somehow feels both too short and too long.
She’s instructed to get her dad from the winery while her mother starts dinner. Looking at the woman, she’s not even sure she’s hurting. She certainly doesn’t move like she’s sore. Jia can’t walk without a limp. Looking at the winery in the distance, she considers an objection. She’s in so much pain and it looks so far away right now. Laying in her bed sounds amazing. Afraid her mom will put her on her back in the field instead if she says anything, she trudges down the dirt path.