No River Too Wide (23 page)

“Excellent. That’s what we want. And don’t worry about holding it.” Adam moved off, pondering all the possible reasons why Jan had looked as if she’d expected him to kick her.

After crunch number fifty was completed, he gave them a breather and asked them to pull chairs into a circle while he talked about ways to protect themselves on the street.

He started by pulling out his cell phone and pretending to have a conversation while he strolled back and forth. Abruptly he stopped and pointed at one of the older women. “Want to tell me why this is a bad idea on the street?”

She considered a moment. “Your attention is on the call, not on your surroundings?”

“Very good. Let’s break that down a bit. I’m distracted. What else?” When nobody volunteered, he gestured in Taylor’s direction, because she was nodding.

“You can’t hear someone coming up behind you?” she asked.

“Exactly. My hearing’s impaired because someone is chattering in my ear. One more thing. Anybody else?”

A young woman who looked just out of her teens answered, “I don’t think you can use a cell phone as a weapon, so, like, your hands are already busy and you can’t hit somebody who attacks you.”

“I like the way you think.” He smiled at her. “Staying safe means we have to stay alert to our surroundings. We have to listen and avoid distractions if we can. That also means no headphones, right? No matter how cute they look on television. No headphones on the street. We have to be ready to defend ourselves. But in real life sometimes you have distractions you can’t control, and sometimes you have packages. You almost always have a handbag, right?”

Most of the women nodded. He explained the necessity of not carrying a handbag on the dominant shoulder and had one of the women demonstrate how difficult it was to strike out with her dominant hand if she was carrying a purse on that side or had one slung over that shoulder. He explained how important it was to only carry packages that would fit in one arm so the other remained free. He moved on to safety in elevators—although there were precious few to worry about in the area—and the importance of having keys in hand when walking from the car to the door instead of waiting to fish them out on the stoop. He had women role-play both scenarios and showed how easy it was to sneak up on them when they were pawing through their handbags.

He carefully stayed away from calling on Harmony or Jan.

“Before we move on to an important technique, let’s talk about assessing our surroundings,” he said. “How safe do you feel in your local parking garage? How about hiking alone?” They talked about trusting instinct, displaying confidence, having an escape plan.

Adam ended the discussion for the night, sure he would lose participants if all they had a chance to do in the first class were jumping jacks and lectures. They needed something fun to work on, something they could take home and practice.

“What’s the first strategy to consider, no matter what the situation?” he asked.

“Screaming?” Harmony said.

“Okay. And what would you scream?”

“Help!”

“That seems logical, doesn’t it? But what do you think of first when somebody yells help?” When nobody answered he answered for them. “You think, oh, gosh, a person in trouble needs me to do something, and I might not be able to do it without getting hurt myself. At best you might dial 911 or hope somebody else already has. But what if that person shouted
fire?
” He shouted the last word.

Everybody jumped.

“I’d get the heck out of there and see if the building was burning,” one of the women said.

“Exactly. So shout fire whenever you need help. Chances that everybody will pour out to see what’s going on are much better. Nobody thinks they’ll be called on to be a hero. They’ll think maybe they’re running to safety.”

“That’s sneaky,” Harmony said.

“Who cares?” He smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. He was getting a pretty strong vibe from Harmony Stoddard, and not a friendly one.

“The best response in any situation is to try to get away,” he continued. “That should always be your first response. You don’t stay to fight. If you can’t get away, you scream. If that doesn’t bring the results you want, you’ll need to move on. Just to be clear, what we’re learning next is not usually the
first
thing you try. But it might be part of what you’ll need if nothing more peaceful works. Agreed?”

They were all on edge now. The aggressive part was about to begin. Some of them looked eager. Some looked nervous.

“Later we’re going to practice breaking free from our attacker so we
can
run, but not tonight. The reason is that most of the time your attacker is holding on to you, a wrist, maybe, or worse. You’ve asked him to release you, and he’s made it clear he’s not going to. You have to get his attention because he’s not listening. And that’s what we’ll start with tonight. We’re going to practice horizontal elbow strikes, just one of the strikes you’ll learn. I’m going to demonstrate, and I’m going to ask Taylor to help. Then, after she’s had a chance to practice a little, we’ll line up and each of you will have a chance to try it on one of us. Okay so far?”

He went to the closet where he’d stored his equipment and removed two body shields. “Nobody’s going to get hurt,” he said as he held one of the shields against his chest. “These are designed to take a lot of force. If you think you have a lot of power, get in
my
line. If you’re not that secure, I think Taylor will take your blows just fine with protection. Taylor?”

“I’m game,” she said.

“Game to let me use you in my demo, too?”

She rose in one graceful movement and joined him up front.

“Sometimes you need to break away when you’re being held at close range,” he said once she joined him. “There’s no room to throw an effective punch or wind up for a good kick. We’ll be practicing other possibilities, but to begin tonight let me introduce you to the power of your elbow, or more accurately your forearm just below it and the triceps area above it. But these two strikes are only powerful when you put your body weight behind them.”

He moved over to stand right in front of Taylor. She gazed up at him. This close to her he noted how thick and long her eyelashes were and how her huge round eyes were tilted at the corner.

His attention was wandering, exactly what he warned his classes against, and he pulled himself back on task.

“An elbow strike won’t work from a distance. It’s too easy for your opponent to turn or step away before you connect. So to make sure you’re in striking distance, you’ll be using your opposite hand to grab any part of your opponent that you can. Hair, clothing, flesh.” His left hand came up, and he cupped the back of Taylor’s head and wove fingers into her hair, bringing her closer.

“Now she’s in striking range and it’s not easy for her to move away fast enough to stop me.” As he spoke he swung his torso to the left and brought up his right arm, moving forward to aim his elbow and forearm toward the side of her head, stopping inches away as she gasped in surprise. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly for a few seconds.

“She wants to move away to avoid more, but she can’t. Another good reason to grab her with the other arm first.” He released her and stepped away.

From that point on he answered questions, demonstrated again, although now Taylor’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion as she waited for the next surprise. He asked her to grab him from behind, which was much too enjoyable. He demonstrated how easy it was to swivel, bring up his forearm and disable her hold on him.

“We’re just going to practice the strikes tonight,” he said, after he thanked her. “You won’t be grabbing anybody. Taylor, do you mind going first? Then, when you’ve practiced a bit, you can take a line.”

He wasn’t surprised to see how easily she had absorbed the lesson, despite being his guinea pig. She needed practice, of course, as everyone did at first, but she was a natural athlete, and yoga had taught her flexibility and balance. She was ready to hit him, too, having been the brunt of his demonstration. She smiled first, as if to say,
now it’s my turn, buster;
then she swung her elbow into the padded shield he was holding.

He whooshed out loud, not because he’d really had any air knocked out of him, but to show how impressed he was. Everybody applauded and laughed. He told her to continue, and he coached a little, suggesting she twist farther and keep her arm level, but she needed little other than practice. At the end he stepped back and congratulated her. She wasn’t even winded, and everybody clapped again.

“Now it’s your turn,” he told the class. “Form two lines.” He watched as they eyed each other, then his line and Taylor’s. Harmony took her mother’s arm and moved her toward Taylor’s.

He couldn’t let Harmony continue to control the session or her mother’s progress. “Jan, you’ll be better over here.”

“I don’t think so,” Harmony answered for her.

“I would appreciate it if you came over here, Jan,” he said politely. “Taylor has enough people in her line.”

Harmony looked as if she planned to argue, but Jan pulled away. In a moment she got into his line and a clearly unhappy Harmony went to the back of Taylor’s.

“Five strikes each arm, then to the back of the line,” he said. “I’ll be watching both lines and coaching, and we’ll repeat until I’m sure you’re getting the idea. Once I’m confident, I’ll have you stand with your backs to the shields, then twist to slam the target.”

By the time Jan got to the front, she looked as if she wanted to crawl into a hole.

Adam knew fear when he saw it. He knew what it was like to be afraid himself. But if Jan wanted to protect herself, she had to develop confidence. And the only way to do that was to move through the fear to a better place.

“What’s stopping you?” he asked for her ears only when she didn’t raise her arm.

She gave one quick shake of her head.

“Let’s just start by raising your arm until it’s level. You don’t have to hit the shield. Just twist in that direction and brush your arm against it. Can you do that?”

She was wide-eyed and breathing hard. He waited. She finally nodded. She stepped closer and raised her arm. Had her arm been weighed down by chains, it wouldn’t have been harder to lift.

“I’m going to reach around the shield and help make your arm level,” he warned. “Don’t move.”

She flinched, but she let him gently move her arm into position. Done, he held the shield with both hands again. “Now swing your arm and your body, and brush your arm against the shield. Can you do that?”

“Are you okay?” another voice said. He realized Harmony had broken from her line and was addressing Jan. “Do you need help?”

“I’ve got this,” Adam said.

“But—”

“I’ve got this.” Their eyes locked. Hers were stormy. “Are you planning to become her bodyguard, or are you going to let her do what she intended when she signed up? Learn to defend herself.”

“You have no idea—”

“Harmony!” Jan spoke with more energy than she had shown since crossing the threshold. “Go practice with Taylor.”

He wondered what life had been like for these two back in Pawnee Parkland as Harmony was growing up. Had the two of them banded together over every little thing? Why had they needed to? And where had Rex Stoddard and the dead son, Rex Jr., better known as Buddy, fit in? The possibilities intrigued him.

“I don’t see the point of this,” Harmony said.

“I hope you’ll stay after class for a few minutes.” Adam nodded to emphasize his words. “We can work this out.”

“That’ll be the day,” she mumbled, but she started back to her line.

“Jan, are you ready?” he asked.

She swung her arm, not hard, not powerfully, but she brushed it firmly against the shield.

“Good for you,” he said. “Now let’s try that again.”

Chapter 18

Harmony knew she was a quivering mass of contradictions. One minute she was attacking her mother for no good reason; the next she was defending her whether she needed it or not. Her blighted childhood might be the root cause, but she was a grown-up now, a mother herself, and she should be able to control her tongue and actions, if not her emotions.

She promised herself she would do both when she finally got Adam Pryor alone. Her mother disappeared downstairs, and one by one the other women disappeared, too. Taylor had been the first to leave, probably to take care of paperwork in her office. Five minutes after the class ended, Harmony was finally alone with Adam.

“Thanks for staying,” he said, while his back was still to her. He was putting the body shields on the shelf of the closet, and he didn’t turn. “I was afraid you weren’t going to.”

“Well, I didn’t want to.”

He shut the door and faced her. “Want to tell me why?”

“Because I behaved like an idiot.”

He smiled. “I feel better already.”

“It’s just that I know Jan, and I know she’s a little timid. I was trying to help.”

“Funny thing about helping. Sometimes the harder we try, the worse we make things.”

“I guess.”

“I can tell this class is going to be hard for her. I’m going to make it as easy as I can, but at a certain point, it can’t be too easy or she won’t learn a thing she needs to.”

“I know. I’ll try to step back.”

“I’ll go you one better.” He assessed her, not the way a man assesses a woman he’s attracted to, but the way a drill sergeant might assess a new recruit. “I want you to do something you don’t want to do. I want you to drop out of this class and join my second one.”

“Second class?” She realized she had been slumping. She pulled herself to her full height. “No way. You don’t even have a second class.”

“I do now. I’ve singled out three of the others who can move faster and asked them to change nights. Once I square it with Taylor we’ll start training together on Wednesdays, same time, when I happen to know this room is vacant. I want you in that class, away from Jan.”

She stared at him. “But I just said I’ll back off.”

“I’m sure you mean it. But you won’t do it. I don’t know what the deal is there, but she’s your pet project. And you don’t need a project. You need to focus on learning what I can teach you, and she needs to do the same. And while you’re in the same room, that’s not going to happen.”