Wonk's escrima class

The Everett Parks and Recs coach was an ex football player, from the now defunct American kind. Wendell Brown, thrown in prison for a drunken brawl in Chongqing, China. A fight broke out and local men threw bottles at Wendell, feel free to believe what you want to believe about what happened next, but what matters is that Mr. Brown was sentenced to prison for 4 years.

His cell was 5x5m, but held as many as "30 prisoners, all sleeping on the concrete floor. There were no blankets or pillows and the room was so crowded that most prisoners slept on their sides with arms draped over each other like embracing couples. Near the back was an older prisoner indicating he was making room for me to lie down. Dazed and confused, I crossed the cell like a cat, careful not to step on the heads, arms or bodies of other prisoners." As he got to know him he learned he was from the Philippines and among other things, an escrima master.

Every day we trained, all day in a corner of the cell incorporating the movements of the other inmates into the dance. He taught me to economize every movement because the bowl of rice and a few root vegetables they give you only goes so far.

Now Wendell's destiny was to give back through teaching the craft he had learned. Parks and Recs was thankful to have an acknowledged master, cleared him a spot, albeit after advanced dog training. The local Filipino community was supportive and several skilled older mature martial artists attended to help out, since a younger community with sticks, even with eye protection, is best managed carefully.

If you have never seen it, a large escrima class is an exercise in controlled chaos. Master Wendell, somehow managed to weave his way through the mass without getting tagged with his patented Chongqing shuffle, offering suggestions and observations.

This was Wonk's third season, first time with the advanced class. In the pair off his partner was a girl. Whatever. BAM, whatever girl, hit him in his lead shoulder, fairly hard. Hey newbie, if you're gonna stand in front of a lady with sticks in her hands you might want to stay en garde.

Somewhat overwhelmed by the sensory overload, Wonk looked her in the eyes; they both laughed.  Pippi was trippy, the second he looked at her, she almost pattern matched for a guy; wierd, cause she conformed to girlhood just fine.

Wonk, he said, Pippi, she replied. En garde. Their sticks hit, slick, slack, arriving in the exact right place, speed and time, again and again. Not an accident, they had the juju. She was older, married, had kids, took them, took the whole neighborhood to Tae Kwon Do. But they were going to have a relationship that few can know, a perfect match as sparring partners. Brown looked over and just stood still, only time anyone can remember him taking a hit, accidental of course, on the training floor.

Pippi noticed it first, the whole class had stopped, watching them. Sliding back to give them more room, more air. She signaled a stop. Wonk, she paused a second, he returned an almost inperceptible nod. You still have gas in your tank?

En garde, he replied. Pippi started with a parry drill, then started picking up the pace. Wonk, used to drills, took his cues from the senior student. Effortlessly, they were moving faster than he had ever been before. Wonk felt the transition, shifting gears in a 6 speed transmission, almost like he was outside of the two partners looking in. To take it up to a higher level yet he would have to leave the expectations of the drill and anticipate where, when, how fast, what angle, the stick would be. Now, *that's* escrima.

He looked over, Pippi had a look of concentration, but she met his eyes and they both gave a slow nod. Wonk broke pattern, stepped back a decimeter, started working an overhead curl, his height advantage moving him into the leader position of the team.

The class could barely breathe, the pair was reaching sci fi levels of performance, you couldn't see the stick, just the swoosh. The impact smacks were loud, crisp, clear, if this was a real battle, those hits would quickly disable an  opponent.

CRACK. One of Wonk's sticks snapped, sending a misile into the ranks of the onlookers. Thank heavens for eye protection at such a time. The pair stopped statue still. Wendell tossed Wonk a stick, cool down drills, you can't just stop after going like that.

Later in his life, Wonk wrote in his journal, that he looked forward to each class. Pippi and Wonk BFF'd. He would attend her kids birthdays, or after he got busier managed to send a card and gift. Even with a gifted sparring partner he never learned all that Wendell had to teach, he could budget 20 minutes solo practice a day, 2 classes a week, not all day, every day, in a 5x5 cell. He was a peace with that; mentioned that to Brown once. The coach replied, always gotta leave em wanting more.

Supermom gave him one more gift. She and her husband, Maurice, a successful financier, had scheduled a latin dance music class, but little Johnny got sick and wanted daddy to take care of him. Pippi called Wonk and asked him to fill in.

By the end of the night, Wonk was passable at the slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, American Tango. Knew the men's steps, three steps forward, side right, close. When he got home, his mom, Clarissa, asked him about his class. The music studio was the only room in his house large enough to show his mom what he had learned. She watched, nodded, clapped, affirmed, and then joined him. Turns out she knew the Tango. And a lot more. In the same night, she showed him the basics of ballroom dancing. From that day on in his life, at a slow dance, he was free of the prom shuffle.

Pippi's birthday, at least her social media birthday, was June 1. Wonk and Gloria were in the process of forming Bestow, a gift shop to facilitate giving that special lady the consummate offering.

Do you think jewelry's too personal, Wonk asked Gloria, his lovely business partner. Gloria quickly lit up with a gleam in her eye. Too personal? You've been dancing. You're knocking on that door already.

Yeah, Wonk answered. I wonder how Maurice feels sometimes, some of the guys call Pippi my escrima wife. But, he said, conspiratorially to Gloria. Don't you think he's a bit effeminate?

I think he is a lovely gentleman, Gloria replied. Good father too.
I think, he just lets us alone as that he knows I can take him, Wonk said, a bit sheepishly as if he was trying on the assertion for size.
Don't be too sure, Gloria countered. Maurice got through Oxford with a boxing scholarship, he stays in shape and wouldn't need sticks. He's got 5 kilos on you and none of it's a free ride.

Now, to business. What do you think about peridot? I have a fairly unique 3 strand. It's looking for a home with a red head of her complexion.

Wonk wasn't moved by the piece she handed him.
It looks like US Marine green, he protested.
She's a warrior, Gloria answered evenly.
Its all bumply, he said next.
Its been in a shipping bag. It's knotted and needs to hang for a few days. Here, she said, gently and pulling a stretching. See, it's better already.
It looks like its been color altered, he finished.
Yup, just about everything has, though I'm not sure why. They take subtly colored stones and try to enhance their color and bright hued gems and try to make them more subtle. But here they are under magnification, they are unique, earth mined, and if you don't mind me saying, she will look fabulous in them. It's your store, you are welcome to anything we have, but if it was up to me...
Let me show you something. These are some pictures from a study of a red headed model wearing peridot, what do you think?
I'll take it.

A few months later.
DROP IN: Wonk it's me, Pippi, pick up
PHONE: Wonk, I'm in a jam. It's Maurice's award ceremony and the baby sitter got caught last night joyriding in her neighbor's Kushmobile. She's in Up and Out and I have not been able to find a replacement. Do you think you could help me out?
Wonk couldn't believe it when he heard himself say, "Sure, I'll be right over."
END PHONE.

The good news is that the night before Maurice Onabe's brother's family had come over and Pippi had made her famous Paella. Some foods, people say, are better the next day and the smell of it as Wonk heated it up for himself and the kids was entreating. Chicken, nearmeat, sausage, seafood, tomatoes, olives, on a bed of brown rice cooked in bone broth and saffron, like a 5 star restaurant.

Kids, grub is at the table. Wonk noticed for the first time, how silent it was. With kids! Without saying another word, he tore through the house, to find them with a blockiamond player and their parents private movies.

Quick like bunny he pulled out his Q phone, shot a picture of the miscreants and the crime scene as initially observed.

OK, put down whatever you have and climb down off the bed, he ordered. He took another shot of the evidence, texted the two photos to Pippi. Wrote a quick note, "Didn't touch *anything*."

As he ate his paella with the future Up and Out candidates, Wonk found himself wondering what was on those movies, but wisely decided it was better not to know. Somehow that event tarnished their relationship. They still paired off for sparring, best match of the group, but their private lives headed in different directions. A year later Maurice was offered and accepted an ambassadorship to Kenya. On his birthday, Wonk got a package from Pippi. She had the nerves and was going fast. She was her dance partner, they were doing the Tango, but they concluded with horizontal moves that took Wonk's breath away the first time he saw and the memory remained with him for all of his days.