OBI

Every eye fell on Nick as he entered the small bar, glancing back he saw around six drinkers and most looked regulars apart from the guy near the back sat alone with a lemonade. Fit thought Nick someone who trains, not young but experienced, grizzled an old warrior. Getting up there himself he made his way over, smiling at the bar maid and asking for an orange J20, she said she’d bring it over.

The man watched Nick approach he was lean and weathered with long arms, his knuckles swollen from hitting something way too hard way too often.

“You came,” he drawled, “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Nick had been in two minds after all why should he entertain some guy who’d insulted his training and his dojo?

“Gary,” he said not offering his hand. Gary grinned revealing some twisted and missing teeth.

“Sit down son,” he said like he was 100 years old and Nick was just a puppy. “I’ll pay for your drink.”

“I pay for my own drinks,” Nick informed him calmly. Gary shrugged, have it your own way.

“So you think you can fight do you,” asked the old warrior veteran of a few barroom brawls. “You think your style and belt give you some kind of kudos, that Goju has all the answers and because you wear a Dan that makes you some kind of authority. Do you know how many Dans I’ve got kid?”

Nick waited for an outrageous figure but he was in for a surprise.

“None,” said Gary, “Oh I’ve done martial arts loads of them, muay thai, shotokan, fai lung pai and stuff you’ve never even heard of most likely – Chinese, Malaysian even Apache survival combat would you believe.”

Nick yawned, “Where is this going,” he asked.

Taking a sip of his drink Gary watched the bargirl drink a J20 over, he winked at her and she smiled back then the warrior said. “Your obi isn’t worth squat Nick it means nothing.”

Outraged Nick glared at the man, how dare he say something so insulting?

“My obi means everything to me it was hard earned and cost me a lot…in blood.”

Ignoring this Gary went on, “Some basics, a few kata, a bit of soft impact sparring it’s all bullshit Nick.”

Nick had done thousands of basics, he knew over 30 kata and his sparring had not been soft even as a white belt he’d taken some real poundings of big men.

“You’re insulting me Gary and I came all the way here to see you to speak like a gentleman.”

Gary chuckled, “You came here to prove me wrong lad so go ahead, do some proving.”

With a sudden movement he hurled his glass into the middle of the bar where it shattered, “Is this a bar for gays,” he bellowed, “My friend here tells me you’re all of the pink persuasion.”

Every guy stood up looking angry and insulted, this was a red neck bar a place for bigots and bullies and none of them liked remarks like this. Nick inwardly groaned, he was now faced with five tough-looking opponents and they were making their way over holding glasses and bottles looking right at him. Thanks a lot Gary he mused you’ve really done me a favour haven’t you because now whatever I say to defuse the situation will seem like an excuse. Gary chuckled and waved, go ahead hero; prove me wrong if you can I don’t care.

Nick stood up and parted his hands I said nothing this is a wind up but nobody was listening they wanted his blood and meant to have it.

“Show them your obi Nick, tell them you do Goju Ryu karate I’m sure they’ll be as impressed as me.”

“What the hell are you playing at Gary?”

“Giving you a ‘Rites of Passage’, a test of manhood the Apache would call it; think of it as kumite with an edge.”

“You’re a bloody fool.”

“One of us is; one of us is deluding himself big time.”

“I suppose you aim to just sit there and do nothing to help me.”

Damn right said the lob sided grin why should I put myself out, “I’ve had my initiation into bar fighting Nick now it’s your turn, impress me if you can.”

Nick dropped the nearest man in a second with his left leg, pivoting he found room to drop another with his right leg then he was out of space he had to circle a table and use an elbow to put the third man away after that he was forced to evade and block, he had incoming fist and glass and the glass was broken with jagged artery slicing teeth.

He back fisted a man, spear jabbed another, turned and drove his knee in low then he was able to back kick.

“Oh bravo,” he heard Gary call, “But it isn’t over yet buddy.”

A chair flew past Nick forcing him to duck and a sixth man a huge man appeared out of nowhere, he was fat and grey bearded with pig crazy eyes. Nick pushed over a table, took a step and jump kicked him on the jaw; the jaw was like iron. He put another kick into the body, turned and kicked a knee. The big man tottered and crashed onto Gary’s table, the table exploded and upended one its edges caught Gary under the chin and knocked him flying.

The giant ended up on his face sleeping it off so Nick went over to his mentor to find him holding a bloody mouth.

“What do you think of my obi now,” he panted feeling pleased with himself he’d used some good karate and put down 6 pilgrims?

“I think I lost a tooth,” Gary mumbled.

“I could have lost a lot more,” Nick pointed out, “Here, let me have a look.”

But the bargirl bustled over with a towel to wipe Gary’s mouth, she cleaned him up told him how brave he was and offered to take him back to her flat; she pointedly didn’t look at Nick at all or comment on his impressive display.

Gary was smug, “You see boy it isn’t always about the obi,” he draped an arm around the girl and squeezed her, she seemed to like it.