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3
Dis-Orientation

 

“Cool bikes,” a scrawny, nerdy-looking boy called out the second we pulled up to the Rising Phoenix Martial Arts School on our motorcycles. The kid wore a backpack full of textbooks that threatened to pull him over backward. He looked to be a couple of years younger than us and was probably sixty pounds lighter.

“Thanks,” Frank replied. “I’m Frank. This is my brother, Joe.” I gave him a little wave, since I was in the middle of locking my bike up.

“I’m Billy Lee. That’s Billy, and then Lee. Lee’s my last name. So it’s not Bill-Lee-Lee-Lee. . . .” Billy needed to take a breath to continue, giving me the opportunity to cut in.

“Got it. Billy. Say, who do we see about signing up for classes here?” I asked quickly.

“Oh, that would be Finn. Mr. Campbell. He lets us call him Finn. He runs the place for Sensei Huang.” Billy walked toward the glass doors of the building, pointing. Between the golden dragons, we could see a tall desk with a man behind it.

“Are you going inside?” Frank asked Billy.

“Sure. Yes. I’m a student here,” Billy said proudly.

“Cool—then you’re the guy who can give us the inside scoop,” Frank said, trying to make friends. “We’ll find you inside in a few!”

“Okay.” Billy started walking backward, squinting at us and our bikes like we were criminals ourselves. “I’ll see you in the locker room, okay?” Only when he tripped over the curb at the edge of the parking lot and nearly fell did he turn and walk inside.

“I think we can safely exclude Bill Lee-Lee-Lee there from our list of suspects,” I pointed out with a smile. “Nice kid, but he doesn’t seem the criminal mastermind type.”

Frank smiled too. “No, but he does jump right up on the list of most likely to need protection, don’t you think?”

I nodded.

“Do you have the cash for the classes?” Frank asked quietly.

I patted my wallet. “Right here. I’m kind of hoping they have an introductory sale so we can use the extra cash for pizza later.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice, but fat chance. ATAC always knows precisely how much a mission will cost.” Frank nodded toward the door. “When we go in, you scope the place and I’ll do the talking.”

“Got it.” I handed the cash over to Frank so he could pay.

We walked between the golden dragons and under the giant red archway. That’s when I saw it. “First mystery solved,” I said. Behind the dragons, behind the archway, out of sight from the ATAC camera in the case brief we were sent, a giant golden phoenix soared over the double doorway, standing guard. At least I assumed it was a phoenix, since I’ve never actually seen one.

“Happy now?” Frank asked, holding the door for me to enter.

“Definitely.”

Everything was quiet and peaceful inside the Rising Phoenix. Frank and I stepped into the tiled entryway, greeted by slightly dimmed lights and soft sitar music piped in from somewhere. Water rained down over a bamboo-encircled Buddha in a fountain to our left.

But as muted and subdued as it was, this was still clearly a place of business. Along the right side of the entryway ran a glass case with “Rising Phoenix”–branded headbands, robes, sparring gloves, and so on. Finn Campbell, the man Billy Lee had pointed out, stood directly in front of us.

Frank strode confidently up to Finn while I trailed a bit behind. I pretended to be looking at the “Rising Phoenix” daggers and throwing stars in the case, although I was really looking over the case through thick glass into what must be the school’s office. I noticed windows leading to the outside—to the back of the building. Those could come in handy later. You never know when you might need a quick escape.

“Hi. We’d like to take some classes.” Frank pulled Finn away from some paperwork he was doing. He looked Frank over suspiciously, which gave me the chance to do the same to him. He was a pretty normal-looking guy in his thirties. Balding and pasty-faced, he looked more like an intellectual than a fighter.

Apparently deciding we were okay, he switched into sales mode. “Great. You’ve come to the right place. Sensei Huang is a great teacher, and as you can see, we have all-new facilities.” Finn gestured to our left. Through an archway, we could see the dojo, a large room with a fully padded floor. In one corner, several kids worked on a hanging punching bag. In another, two pairs of guys moved through choreographed maneuvers. In the middle, a girl stretched alone.

“We have a special introductory deal right now....” He stopped and laughed in a self-deprecating manner, which I totally didn’t buy. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m Finn Campbell. Please, call me Finn.” He smiled broadly, all teeth, and extended his hand.

“I’m Frank Hardy. And this is my brother, Joe.” Frank shook his hand.

I stepped up and grabbed his hand too. “Hi.” A single pump shake, and out. It was the shake of a man who prided himself on efficiency.

“Glad to meet you both. As I was saying . . .” Finn slid a glossy pamphlet across the counter for Frank and me to look at. I peeked into the dojo and took a step inside. “Joe—make sure you don’t walk on the mat with your shoes, okay? Just stick to the tiled area for now. And I’ll need you back here for some paperwork in a minute,” Finn called after me. Without missing a beat, he turned back to Frank. “We have a ten-lesson introductory offer, with the first class being free. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. We’ll need ten lessons each.” Frank sounded genuinely enthusiastic.

“Now,” Finn continued in full swing, “let’s see if you need any of our genuine Rising Phoenix equipment. . . .”

That was all I could take of the sales pitch. I stepped into the dojo, careful to avoid the mat. The tile ran along the sides to the back of the dojo, straight to two heavy wooden doors. I assumed these were the locker rooms. Walking toward them, I was surprised to find a hallway to my right. The hallway ran behind the entryway and Finn Campbell’s desk and seemed to lead to the office that I’d seen. I took a turn and headed toward the door.

Inside the office, Paul Huang was talking with a student. I recognized him immediately from the ATAC video. I could only just see him over the student. He wasn’t a large man, but he didn’t look like someone I wanted to tangle with.

Something about the student Paul Huang was talking to was very familiar. I could only see him from the back, so I couldn’t tell who it was.

Before I could place him, though, Frank came up behind me. “Okay, we’re in. But we need to go change. Orientation starts in a few minutes,” he said, pulling me by the shoulder toward the locker rooms.

The boys’ locker room was pretty basic—wooden benches, metal lockers, a vague smell of sweat. There were a few other kids there getting changed. Some of them looked as if they couldn’t figure out exactly how to put on the karate uniform. All of them looked kind of . . . awkward. Maybe even dorky. It was weird.

“It’s called a gi,” I heard Billy Lee say. I followed his voice around a row of lockers to find him lecturing an overweight kid who was halfway dressed in a Rising Phoenix karate uniform.

“A gee?” the overweight kid repeated doubtfully.

“Yes. Traditionally there was no real uniform for karate, but when the discipline entered the modern age, the gi was adopted as the uniform of choice,” Billy said.

I bit back a smile. It was obvious: Billy Lee was a karate geek.

“So Billy, you know a lot about this stuff,” I said. I grabbed an open locker nearby and tossed my jacket and shoes inside. “How long have you been taking classes here?”

“Two months,” Billy said. “But I found out all the history stuff myself. I like to know the background of any new hobby I start.” His cheeks turned red.

“That’s cool,” I assured him.

“I think so. Anyway, Sensei Huang doesn’t talk about that—he’s more into putting karate to use in our everyday lives.”

That sounded a little weird. “You mean fighting people for real?” I asked.

“No. Well, not unless you need to,” Billy said.

“Why would you need to?” I asked. Billy looked way too small to have any chance in a fight, no matter how much karate he knew.

“Just, you know . . .” Billy took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Like there’s this jerk at my school. He’s been pushing me around since I was little. And when I told Sensei Huang about it, he offered to give me private lessons.”

I shot Frank a look, and he raised his eyebrows. “Private lessons, so you could fight this bully?” Frank asked.

Billy frowned. “Not really. He said private lessons would make me more adept and quick. You know, so I could have the self-confidence to stand up for myself.”

“That sounds good,” the overweight kid added. “I’m sick of people making fun of me.” He finished tying his white belt and headed off toward the dojo.

I pulled out my gi and began to put it on. So did Frank.

“So you must know all about Sensei Huang’s background, huh?” Frank casually asked Billy. “Since you do so much research.”

“Nah. I couldn’t find any info on him,” Billy said. “But I don’t care. He’s a great teacher. And he’s really into Eastern medicine and stuff. He’s giving me some Chinese herbs to help me bulk up and to keep me focused.”

I couldn’t help but notice that Billy was still dressed in his khakis and button-down shirt. “Aren’t you gonna change?” I asked.

“Oh. No, today’s just for orientation,” Billy said. “The beginners’ class doesn’t meet until Tuesday. But it’s cool that you guys are joining!”

“What are you doing here, then?” Frank asked.

“Sensei Huang asked me to come in today and talk to Finn.” Billy shrugged. “Maybe my mom is late with the tuition check or something.”

“Ready, Frank?” I asked.

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

“Have a good class, you guys,” Billy said with a shy smile. “I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Later, Billy,” I said. “It was good to meet you.”

Frank and I went out into the dojo. The overweight boy from the locker room sat on the mats with five other kids. They all nodded and smiled at us when we came in, except for the one girl. She sat by herself at the back of the room and didn’t even bother to look at us. One of the boys and the girl looked around my age, but the rest of them were younger. I was surprised to see that none of them looked very athletic. They were all either too skinny or too heavy, and most of them seemed kind of small. I glanced over at my brother. He was at least six inches taller than every other kid in the room.

I hope we don’t stand out too much in the beginners’ class, I thought. The mission would be doomed if we couldn’t manage to stay undercover. We sat down on the mats and tried to look smaller.

As soon as our butts hit the floor, the office door opened and Paul Huang came out. I wondered if he’d been watching the dojo through his window.

“Welcome,” Huang said in a quiet voice. “I’m Paul Huang, the sensei of this school. I’m glad to see you all here at the Rising Phoenix.” As he talked, he looked every one of us in the eye, holding each student’s gaze for a few seconds before moving on.

That was an old cop’s technique, I knew. Dad always said that making eye contact was the easiest way to assert yourself and show your strength. Huang had it down.

“I’m sure all of you have an idea of what it means to study karate,” Huang was saying. “Some people think karate is about fighting. But it’s not. It’s about discipline.” He stared at the overweight boy. “Self-discipline.”

A thin, gangly boy raised his hand. “We’re not gonna learn to kick and fight?” he asked in a nasal voice.

“You will,” Huang said. “But those are only moves. The more important lesson you will learn is to trust yourself. To control your body with your mind. The true martial artist will rarely fight, because he—or she—will rarely need to. The true martial artist projects an aura of strength that makes him intimidating to others.”

I wasn’t quite sure he was right about that, but then again, my martial arts training was limited to playing video games and watching Jackie Chan movies.

“How do you get that aura?” the girl asked. I was surprised to hear her speak up—she was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, and she still hadn’t looked at anyone else. I’d assumed she was supershy.

Sensei Huang smiled. “Like I said, discipline. Self-control leads to self-confidence. Self-confidence leads to self-esteem. And that leads to greater happiness in all areas of your life. Trust me, everyone. Once you know how to control your body, you’ll know how to control your whole life.”

I had to force myself not to roll my eyes. I’d expected a karate master to be breaking wooden boards with his bare hands, not giving us a touchy-feely speech about self-confidence. But looking around the room, I noticed the other kids nodding, their eyes shining. Obviously they didn’t share my annoyance at Sensei Huang’s lecture. And it wasn’t too hard to figure out why. These kids all seemed perfectly nice. But they weren’t exactly the type of people who ended up popular in school. They could all probably use a self-esteem boost.

So maybe Sensei Huang’s method wasn’t so bad after all.

“Let me explain how a typical class will go here at the Rising Phoenix,” Huang went on. He waved us all to our feet. “We begin with the traditional Japanese bow, to show our respect for each other and for the art of karate.” He gave a little bow.

I bowed back. The other kids glanced at me and did the same.

Sensei Huang met my eyes and smiled a little, but I got the sense that he was studying me. I quickly looked down. I didn’t want to draw too much attention to myself. From the corner of my eye, I could see Frank staring at his feet too.

“In the beginners’ class, we will be studying kihon,” Huang said. “These are the basic building blocks of karate: striking, blocking, kicking, and punching.”

He went on describing the types of moves we would have to learn before we could continue on to more advanced karate. As he talked, I glanced around at the other students. They were all listening intently. I let my gaze wander over to the huge windows at the side of the room. Billy Lee stood out in the hallway, talking to Finn. That was no big surprise—but the look on Billy’s face was.

The kid was practically crying. His face was bright red, and he kept shaking his head while Finn talked to him.

I couldn’t drag my eyes away from Billy. He’d been so happy in the locker room and outside. What could have happened to make him so upset now?

Billy tried to say something, but Finn cut him off. Finally Billy just turned and ran for the front door. I thought I saw him brush away a tear as he went.

Finn Campbell turned and looked right into the dojo, his eyes on Sensei Huang.

I glanced at the sensei. Huang was staring back at Finn with an alert expression on his face. I got the feeling that he’d been watching the whole exchange. But he just kept giving his introduction speech without missing a beat.

This guy is smooth, I thought.

“Enough talk,” Huang said suddenly. “I’m sure you’d all like a demonstration of a few of these moves we’re discussing.”

The other kids all nodded, so I did too.

“Okay, I’m going to show you a basic combination. You’ll have to master all these moves before you can advance out of the beginners’ class,” Huang explained. “I need some help to demonstrate this, so I’ve asked one of my top students to join us.”

He waved to the back of the room. I turned, surprised. I hadn’t noticed anybody come into the dojo.

And when I saw the top student who was coming up to help Huang, my surprise turned to outright shock. Because there, in all his gawky, shy glory, was one of my best friends: Chet Morton!