Episode 900 - The Origins of Master Hopkick: Audio Book

Today's episode is monumentous. Episode 900!  We decided to do a dramatic readthrough of "The Origins of Master Hopkick".

The Origins of Master Hopkick: Audiobook - Episode 900

It's not every day that a podcast reaches 900 episodes! For this special occasion we have gathered a number of whistlekick friends together and did a readthrough of "The Origins of Master Hopkick" book. This is likely the largest episode project that whistlekick has undertaken and we hope that you enjoy it!

Find out more about the book and to purchase:
The Origins of Master Hopkick

Show Notes

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Show Transcript

Narrator (Jenni Siu)

John Ramo(Jeremy Lesniak)

John’s Mother (Jenni Nather)

Miss Peters/Aunt Mari/school secretary (Karen Guarino)

Mr. Tung/Uncle Tomasi  (Gabe Siu)

Chinese man/Jack (Victor Guarino)

Auntie Rosi (Liz Campese)  

Chinese ladies/Australian neighbors (Liz Campese)

Joe/Beni/Eddie (Dennis Campo)

Adam/second bully (Vinny Campese)

Annie (Anna Siu)

Sensei Bruce -(Andrew Adams)

George/John's school friends/dojo friends (Mark Warner)

Chapter 1

Tulagi Island, Solomon Islands

The early morning sun shone brightly, warming the young boy who sat pencil in hand, staring at the notebook before him. Tapping his forehead subconsciously as he worked out sums in his head, John scribbled down his answers, then sighed and stretched. Looking out the window, he could see the gentle roll of the waves as the tide came in. Later in the day, the vast coral reefs would be visible even from this distance, but for now, all John could see was the light blue water. 

It’d be great to go for a swim instead of doing these sums. 

John shook his head and tapped it again with his pencil. Best to get his math over with early, and perhaps earn the right to go for that swim later in the day. As he worked his way down the page of handwritten homework, John heard the sounds of his brothers in the next room. Joe was bringing in a bucket of water; he could hear his mother’s caution not to spill on her clean floor, which brought a grin to his face. George was setting the table, as he did every morning. John could smell the fry bread his mother was making, and his stomach rumbled at the thought of Saturday morning breakfast. His mother made the best fry bread of any he’d ever had. 

 “John, breakfast!” 

He carefully closed his notebook, placed his pencil in the small cup on his desk, and hurried to wash his face and hands. 

As the family sat down to eat, John’s mother spoke. 

“I need groceries this morning. Will one of you boys come with me to Chinatown, and carry the parcels for me?” 

John took a drink of tea and looked at his brothers. None of them would refuse helping their mother, but he could see that Joe looked disappointed. Saturdays the boys played pickup football games, and Joe was the best in the village. 

“I’ll go with you, Mama. There’s always something interesting to see in Chinatown.” 

John’s words brought a smile to his mother’s face, and he returned it. 

“Finish your homework, and we’ll go. I’ll just take a look at the cupboard and see what we need.” John nodded, took his plate to the basin and rinsed it, then returned to his room to finish up his math homework. 

In the center of the busy streets of Chinatown, there was an open area, where often Chinese dances and celebrations were observed. To John, these were always mysterious and exciting. He didn’t understand them, but he was fascinated, and always looked forward to seeing something new. Today was no exception, but this time, instead of a group of dancers or tables with colored decorations on them, there were two very different looking men, standing a few feet apart from one another. 

One was a tall, muscular white man with a short haircut. He was tense and looked ready to move at a moment’s notice. His face showed confidence and determination. The second was a much shorter and thinner Chinese man, yet the look in his eyes was every bit as focused and determined. 

A crowd had gathered, and as John stopped to watch, the men slowly began to step in circles, always facing each other, always tense. 

“Mama, what are they doing?” 

John’s mother stood beside him and pointed. “That man is a boxing champion. I heard he is very famous. He is an American, his name is Robert Trias.” 

John could see why the tall, strong man was a champion. 

“And who is the other?” 

“That is Tung Gee Hsing. He came from China, and they say he has been teaching Mr. Trias other ways of boxing. The two men are friends.”

John’s brow furrowed. 

“If they are friends, then why do they look like they are about to fight?”

Even as he spoke, the men began an exchange of rapid movements like nothing John had ever seen before. Hands, feet, quickly moving both to block and strike, captivated his attention. 

“I think, perhaps, they are not fighting as much as they are training together. I don’t know how to explain it really, only that I have heard much about their matches, and that Tung usually wins. It is quite exciting to see, isn’t it?”

The men continued to exchange strikes and kicks, then step away, circle, and repeat. John gasped as, in a quick-as-lightning move, Tung Gee Hsing hooked his foot behind Robert Trias’ ankle, and the larger man lost his balance. Before John could even take in what was happening, Tung’s knee was on Trias’ chest, and the match was over. Both men were panting and sweaty, but John was sure he saw a glimmer of a smile in their eyes. 

 He was fascinated. He wanted to know more. A thousand questions came to his mind, and he wanted answers to every one of them. 

This was the first encounter between the one who would one day come to be known as Master Hopkick, and the way of being that would captivate him and become the ultimate driving force in his life. Though he did not yet know it, that day John took his first step onto the path of his future.

Chapter 2

The simple brick school building could, at times, feel more like a prison than a school to John. He was grateful for the chance to learn, as many of his friends’ families could not afford to send their children to school. John knew it was important, and he worked as hard as he could to make it worth all the sacrifices his mother made to be able to pay the dues. The past three days, however, John had not been able to concentrate at all. 

The match he’d witnessed in Chinatown had filled his thoughts day and night ever since. 

How did such a small man triumph over such a large, strong boxing champion?

There were many other questions he had no answers to. His mother had told him all she knew, which, unfortunately, wasn’t much. She had heard from friends at work that Robert Trias came to Chinatown nearly every day to train with Mr. Tung.  

“John Ramo!” 

His teacher’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and John stood, uncertain what answer would be required of him, as he’d completely missed the question. 

“Were you listening?”

John looked down and sighed. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry, I was distracted.” 

“I would like you to stay afterwards so we can discuss what was distracting you.” His teacher’s words made his heart sink. He really did try hard at his schoolwork. It was just so hard to ignore what he’d seen on Saturday! 

“John. You are one of my best students. What is wrong?” Miss Peters did not sound angry, but still she was very serious. 

“I’m sorry, truly. I saw something on Saturday in Chinatown, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I will do better,” John answered.

“Did something bad happen? Something that scared you?” Miss Peters was a very caring woman, and John could see the concern in her eyes. 

“Oh, no, nothing bad. It was actually wonderful. A match, a fight…well, a boxing champion and another man, they were…I don’t know exactly what it was they were doing, but it was incredible!” John stumbled to answer, partly because he still had no idea how to describe what he’d seen, and partly because just speaking of it made him excited. 

“Ah, I see. I understand how exciting a sporting match can be,” Miss Peters spoke as she gathered the papers on her desk into orderly piles. 

“It was unlike anything I have ever seen before! I keep thinking about all the different ways they moved, and even stopped the other man’s strikes with their arms, like this!” John raised his forearm, imitating one of the blocks he’d witnessed. 

“John, there is a proper time for exciting sports, but you know as well as I do, you must put those things out of your mind when more important work is at hand.” Miss Peters’ reprimand was not harsh, but John sighed deeply. 

“I know, I have been trying, truly!”

“You are the hardest working ten-year-old boy I have ever met.” She spoke gently, and John smiled a bit at her praise. 

“You have a chance, a good chance, of earning a scholarship to study in Australia.” John knew how much going away to study would mean to his family. If he could study abroad and graduate high school, there was no telling what jobs would be available to him! On the island, there was no education higher than the sixth grade, and many children didn’t make it that far. It would also mean he could take care of his mother in the future, and make sure she would have everything she needed. 

“Are you still speaking English at home every day?” Although English was the official language of the islands, most people spoke one of the many other languages or dialects native to the region in their homes. 

“Yes, I am. It annoys my brothers, but I still practice speaking English with them,” John grinned, and his teacher smiled back. “Good. You read, write, and speak it very well, which is very important, as you have exams coming up.” John knew how seriously she had been preparing him and the others in his class. 

“Yes, ma’am, I know. I just can’t stop wondering about what I saw, and what exactly they were doing.” 

A thought suddenly occurred to him. His teacher knew about so many things, perhaps she could tell him more!

“Miss Peters, do you know about Chinese fighting? One of the men was Chinese. He won against the tallest man I have ever seen!” 

Miss Peters shook her head. “I’m sorry, John. I do know that every culture has its own method of defense, and China is a very ancient country, so it makes sense they have their own ways. But I don’t know anything about it.”

She finished gathering her things and stood. 

“You are a very inquisitive boy. It is one of the things that makes you such a good student.” 

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Miss Peters looked at John kindly. 

“If you must know about this, I suggest you find your answers, and put your mind at rest, so you can focus on more important things. Like your mathematics exam.”

John smiled his appreciation at her kindness, but then his brow furrowed.

“But Miss Peters, where can I find them? You don’t know anything, and I have already checked the library. There are no books on China, or even boxing.” 

As they walked outside together, Miss Peters turned to look at John.
“You said there were two men in the match on Saturday. Perhaps you should ask one of them.”

Chapter 3

The late afternoon sun beat down on the dusty, hard-packed dirt road which led to Chinatown. John had never been to Chinatown alone, but he knew the path well, and as he approached the first shop, he wiped the sweat from his brow and rubbed the palms of his hands on his shorts before entering. 

“You buy for mother?” The elderly Chinese woman who ran this shop held up a small sack of sugar when she saw John enter. 

“Um, no, I don’t have any money.” He spoke apologetically, and she set the sugar down.
“Then you go. I have much work.” She shooed him towards the door with her hand. 

“Y-yes, ma’am. But I have a question, maybe you can answer it?” John stepped back towards the doorway as he spoke. 

“No time for question from small boy with no money. You go now.”

John retreated back outside, into the hot sun. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked further on, spotting an older man sitting on a small wooden bench. 

“Mister, may I ask you a question?” John’s voice trembled a bit as he approached the man. 

He was met with a furrowed brow and a frown. The man said nothing, but stared at him. 

“Sir? Do you know where Mr. Tung lives?” 

The man shook his head. “No. No English.” He gave John the same shooing motion with his hand that the shop owner had used. 

I should just go home now. 

John had nearly made up his mind to abandon this plan to find Mr. Tung, until he looked up and saw the open area ahead – the very place where the match had taken place three days earlier. Just seeing the site caused his heart to beat a bit faster, and he took a deep breath.

“I will find him. I will be brave.” John didn’t feel very brave, but he walked on, knowing he would never find his answers if he turned back now.

As he neared the open area, John saw a woman weaving long grasses into a basket.

 Just like my mother does every spring!

 Somehow this familiar sight gave him the bit of courage he needed to try again, and he took a deep breath as he approached her. 

“Excuse me, can you answer a question?” The woman looked up at him, her hands never slowing their work. 

“Yes? What you need?”

A small smile came to John’s face. She understood him, and was going to help!

“On Saturday I was here. There were two men; they were…fighting, sort of. I mean they were, but not angrily. They were…” John bit his lip and his voice trailed off. He really had no idea how to explain what he’d seen. 

Thankfully, the woman nodded her head.
“Yes. Tung here, he train American Marine.” 

John’s heart beat faster. 

“Do you know where I can find them? I mean him? Mr. Tung?”

The woman looked down the street, squinting in the bright sunlight.

“Tung live down there. By water.” She nodded her head once in the direction and then returned her eyes to her work. 

“Where by the water?” 

“You go. Find Tung. By water.” 

John sighed. Well, he was getting closer, but he still had some hunting to do. 

As he took a step in the direction the woman had told him, she spoke once more. 

“Door is color like this.” She held up a small blue fabric bag and pointed. 

John nodded in understanding. “Thank you!” 

As he sprinted off towards the row of buildings that bordered the docks, John’s eyes scanned the various doors and gates. At last he saw it – a gate with blue paint nearly the exact shade of the woman’s bag. John’s heart was racing as he approached the small gate and knocked. 

The middle-aged Chinese man who approached was the very man John was hoping to meet. He came near, but did not open the gate.

“What you need?” 

John took a deep breath and spoke as bravely as he could. 

“I saw your…fighting on Saturday. I want to know about it.” 

The man raised an eyebrow. 

“What you saw is what you can know. There are many ways to defeat opponent. I defeated mine.” 

“Yes, sir. I saw, it was wonderful! I want…I want to learn.”

Mr. Tung laughed. 

“You? No. Go home.”

“But why? Why not me?” John didn’t mean to sound disrespectful, but the words came tumbling out more forcefully than he’d intended. 

Mr. Tung folded his arms across his chest as he answered.
“What you see Saturday is two men, masters of different arts. We train together to learn from one another. You are small islander boy. No master of nothing.” 

“But I can learn!” 

Mr. Tung raised his hand in the same shooing motion as the two people John had met earlier. 

“No, you cannot learn. Not from me. You go home.” 

With that, he turned and walked away. 

John stared at the gate long after Mr. Tung had disappeared into the house beyond it. 

I am so close! I know I could do well, if only he would give me a chance!

Chapter 4

“You still here?” John jumped at the sound of Mr. Tung’s voice. He had not even noticed the man as he approached from a different doorway. 

“Yes, sir. I really, really want to learn from you. If you will give me a chance, I will do anything you say!” John spoke with sincerity. 

Mr. Tung smirked. 

“I already say to you, go home, and you not do it.” 

John frowned. This was not going well. 

“But, I must learn how you did those things I saw! I cannot stop thinking about them! Please.” 

Mr. Tung began to walk away from John, clearly not willing to continue the conversation. 

“Sir, please, just one lesson.” John followed the man, until Mr. Tung stopped and turned around to face him. 

“I say no. You no listen. I say go home. You no listen. You are small boy, but you do not listen to elders. Already not good student. Go away.” Mr. Tung spoke quietly, but there was a force behind his words that caused John to stop arguing and walk away, defeated. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw the man watching him, arms folded across his chest once again. 

The walk home was one of the longest John could ever remember. Not only had he not found the answers he sought, he also was late, and would have to do his homework well into the evening hours. 

Morning dawned bright, humid, and, for John, disappointing. As he hurried to dress for school and help his mother prepare lunch to take along to school and work, John kept wondering how he could possibly learn from Mr. Tung. Somehow being told an emphatic no had only served to make him want it more than ever. The problem was, Mr. Tung was right – John had no right to demand lessons, and he knew nothing compared to the two men. He had only seen a few moments, one match. It had captivated him, but he still knew nothing at all. If only he could at least see more! Suddenly John realized a beautiful truth. He didn’t have to train with Mr. Tung – he just had to watch him! His mother had said Mr. Tung and Mr. Trias trained together nearly every day – if he could just watch them more, he was sure to learn some of those movements and strikes. If he could do that, and show Mr. Tung that he’d learned just from observation, he was sure the man would be impressed enough to want to teach him more! 

John smiled and placed his lunch into his backpack with the schoolwork he’d completed late the night before. 

“Mama, I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day at work!” 

Once again, John found school very difficult to focus on. He’d realized midway through the morning that he had no idea where the two men trained. In order to watch them, he would have to find them first, and he was very much hoping he could do that from a crowded place. John was sure Mr. Tung would not be pleased to see him again so soon. 

As soon as the final school bell rang, John hurriedly slipped his backpack onto his shoulders and rushed outside. He stopped only a moment to take a drink of water at the school’s pump before taking off in a run down the road to Chinatown. He had no idea how long it would take to find the men, and he wanted to make sure he was home in time to help his mother with the household chores. Last night he’d gotten back too late to help with anything, and had barely stayed awake long enough to complete his homework. As his feet pounded the hard-packed dirt road, John took deep breaths of the salty sea air, enjoying its sharpness and the pounding of his heart with each step. He wasn’t the fastest runner in his class, but he could hold his own both on land and in the water. As he neared Chinatown for the second day in a row, John slowed to a walk and allowed his heart rate to come down a bit. He wiped the sweat from his brow and headed straight for the open area where Mr. Tung and Mr. Trias’ match had been.

Even from a distance, John could see the men were not there – in the mid-afternoon heat, there were several fishermen filleting their catches before bringing them to the market, and a few women weaving baskets. 

He stopped and looked around. Chinatown was bustling with activity, but he didn’t see anything that resembled a boxing match. 

John heaved a sigh. He really didn’t want to return to Tung’s home, where it had already been made clear he was not welcome. It did seem like the most likely place to find the men, though – they were obviously not anywhere in the open.

Squaring his shoulders, John continued down the road until he was standing in front of the blue gate that led to a small courtyard and, beyond, Mr. Tung’s home. This time he didn’t knock, but he did peer through cautiously, attempting to catch a glimpse of the tall American, or hear anything that might suggest the men were training. 

Even standing still and listening hard, he could not hear or see anything at all. John took several steps along the fence, looking carefully through the slats. There was nothing in the gated courtyard except for several plants growing in pots and a pile of well-used fishing tackle and gear. 

John reached the end of Tung’s fence and turned back towards the gate. There, standing before him, arms crossed, was Mr. Tung himself! 

Chapter 5

John jumped back, startled. How had the man snuck up behind him so quickly?

“You again.” Mr. Tung’s voice was not happy as he spoke. 

John swallowed hard. He hadn’t intended to speak with Mr. Tung so soon after his last encounter, and he didn’t have any idea what to say.

“Why you here again?” The man’s tone demanded an answer. 

“I was…I wanted to see more of your fighting with Mr. Trias.” John explained. 

“Trias train in mornings. Too hot now.” Mr. Tung gestured towards the sun. 

“Oh.” 

Mornings.

It made sense, but John couldn’t hide his disappointment. There would be no chance of watching the men train now – at least, not until Saturday. 

“Mr. Tung, would you teach me something, please? Just one thing? I can’t stop thinking about the match between you and Mr. Trias. I want so badly to learn what you were doing!” 

Mr. Tung stared at John for a long moment before answering.

“You work hard in school?” he gestured to the uniform shirt John wore. 

Nodding his head enthusiastically, John answered. “Yes, sir, I do. I am one of the best students in my class.” 

“You listen to parents?” 

John nodded again. 

“Mother know you here now?”

“She is at work. She doesn’t mind if I do as I please after school, as long as I get my work done.” John spoke the truth, hoping Mr. Tung would believe him. 

Mr. Tung stared at him for what seemed like an eternity, but his expression was not one John could read. At last, the man nodded his head once and held up one finger. 

“You ask, teach one thing. I teach one thing. Then you go.” 

John’s heart began to race in excitement. He was actually going to learn from Mr. Tung!

Turning, Mr. Tung opened the gate and went into the courtyard, clearly expecting the boy to follow him. John took a deep breath, then stepped through the gate.

He followed until the older man stopped in the middle of the courtyard and turned to face him. As John slipped his backpack off of his shoulders and dropped it to the ground, Mr. Tung spoke.

“What is most important in fight, protect self, or defeat opponent?” 

John was startled by the question. He’d never really considered the thought. He’d never really been in a fight – scuffles with his brothers and neighbor kids didn’t count, he was pretty sure. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

“You think.” Mr. Tung stepped close to John. 

“While you think, you learn block.” Before John could react, Mr. Tung’s arm shot out and John felt pain above his right ear. He reached up to rub the spot where Mr. Tung had hit him, and looked at the man, shocked.

“Block. If I cannot strike you, I cannot defeat you.” 

Tung’s hand shot out once again, this time striking John’s hand, which was still rubbing his head. 

“Ow!” John glared at the man. 

“How? How do I block?” 

Tung grabbed the boy’s wrist in one hand and his elbow in the other, and held it up in front of his face. 

“Here. Make strong arm. Hand closed, like this.” He moved his hand from John’s wrist to curl his fingers down, positioning the boy’s hand into a fist.

“Use block to stop me.” 

Tung let go of John’s arm, and he braced himself, staring hard at the man’s hands. 

It seemed that Mr. Tung had barely flinched, but once again John felt pain above his ear. Shaking his head, John raised his arm once again.

For the next fifteen minutes, Mr. Tung repeated this exercise, and John continued to attempt to block. No matter how hard he tried, though, the man was always too fast for him. John’s arm grew tired, and his head was pounding. At last, Mr. Tung spoke again. 

“You are done trying block.” 

Though he was exhausted and in pain, John suddenly realized he wanted more than anything to keep trying. He knew he could stop the strike from landing if he worked at it long enough.

“No, I can do it. I just need to keep trying.” 

Mr. Tung shook his head. “You are done. Today you ask, learn one thing.” 

John wiped the sweat from his brow. “But Mr. Tung, I haven’t really learned to block yet – I need more practice!” 

Mr. Tung reached down and picked up John’s backpack. Holding it out to the boy, he spoke again. 

“Today you not learn to block. Today you learn, nothing can learn in one day.” 

As John took his pack and put it on, he sighed. Turning to leave, he heard Mr. Tung speak once more.

“Boy! No learn to block today. Come tomorrow, try again.” 

John’s heart soared, and his face lit up in a smile.
“Yes, sir! Thank you, Mr. Tung! Tomorrow, I will come right after school!”

Mr. Tung didn’t smile, but John was sure he could see the hint of one in his eyes. 

Opening the gate, John stepped out onto the street, turned back to wave goodbye to the man still standing in the courtyard, and then ran home as fast as his legs could carry him. Mr. Tung was teaching him! As John ran, he pictured himself fighting in a boxing ring, defeating his opponent and holding his hands up in victory. A determined look came across his face as he thought about the block he had begun to learn. 

I will practice all night, and tomorrow I will block every strike, Mr. Tung will see how serious I am!

Chapter 6

“Mr. Tung!” John stood outside the gate for the third day in a row, but for the first time he knocked confidently. 

There was a sore spot on his head from yesterday’s lesson, but other than that, John felt nothing but excitement. 

“Boy! Come!” Mr. Tung stepped out into the courtyard and beckoned to John with his hand. Carefully, John opened the gate, closed it behind himself, and turned towards the man expectantly. 

“Put bag over there.” Mr. Tung pointed to a small bench, and John took his backpack off and laid it down.

“You practice blocking?” 

John nodded. “Yes! Last night I practiced many times before I went to bed.” 

Mr. Tung nodded his approval. 

“Good. Show block.” 

John raised his arm as he’d been taught the day before. Mr. Tung once again grabbed his wrist and elbow. “You make strong block. Hold fist, don’t let fingers loose.” 

John nodded his understanding and gripped his fist tightly. 

“Why you want to learn martial arts?”

“Martial arts?” 

“This is what you ask to learn, yes?” Tung asked.

“Yes. I just…I didn’t know what to call it. I thought it was a different kind of boxing,” John said, somewhat embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. 

“Boxing, one part of martial art. Chinese have boxing, I study many years. Japanese also. Robert Trias know Western boxing. Many arts, many styles, all same goal.” 

Mr. Tung’s response made John feel a bit better, and he gave the man a small smile. 

“I want to learn what you know, Mr. Tung.” 

Tung laughed. “What I know, come from many different places, many different styles. I still learn today.” 

John’s eyes widened. “You?” 

Mr. Tung nodded. “Yes. Good martial artist never stop learning. Why you think I train with Trias? When I see him boxing with other Marines, I see footwork, different than what I learn. I see how it works in fight, how balance shifts in different ways. You see?” as he spoke, the man shifted his feet quickly back and forth with several small steps.

John shook his head in wonder. “No, sir. I saw you two fighting, and it just seemed that you knew much more than Mr. Trias.” 

Mr. Tung shrugged. “Yes, I know more. I study all of life, train with many masters. This does not mean I stop learning. Trias learns from me, I learn from him.” 

John swatted at a mosquito, then answered. “So, you train with Mr. Trias, he teaches you about boxing, and you teach him about other martial arts. But…I don’t know anything at all.” Thinking about it now, he realized how ridiculous his request to learn must seem. 

Mr. Tung crossed his arms over his chest and looked at John appraisingly. 

“So? What is your answer? Why you want to learn?” 

John bit his lower lip as he thought about how to answer. “I don’t really know how to explain it. I just can’t stop thinking about the match I saw on Saturday. It was the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen. I…just feel like I have to learn.”

“And what you will do with what you learn?” Mr. Tung’s next question surprised John. 

“Do? I…don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” John was not at all sure Mr. Tung would agree to teach him anything more, judging from the look the man was giving him. 

“You fight with other boys?” 

John frowned as he shook his head. “No, not really. Maybe with my brothers sometimes. But we don’t hurt each other, not really.” 

“If I teach you martial arts, striking, blocking, kicking. You use to fight other boys?”

John thought for a moment. Did Mr. Tung expect him to fight other boys he knew? Somehow the realization that the man might indeed expect that caused John’s stomach to tighten. 

“I…I don’t really think I will, Mr. Tung. I mean, not a real fight. The soldiers, Mr. Trias and the others, they have made our island safe. I don’t think I will need to fight anyone.” John hoped his honest answer would not disappoint Mr. Tung. Perhaps the man would see him as weak, but John wasn’t the type of boy to start fights, and he stayed away from those who did. 

“Good. Then I will speak with parents about your training. You want to learn martial arts, you must have permission. You must agree to practice. You must agree, do what I tell you, not argue.” 

John’s eyes widened in surprise. Mr. Tung was not upset that he was not a fighter, and not only that, he was offering to train him! He couldn’t help from breaking out in a huge smile of relief. 

“Yes, sir, Mr. Tung! Thank you! I will agree, I will practice all the time, and listen to whatever you tell me!” 

Mr. Tung raised one hand as he replied. “Must also have permission. If parents say this is good for you, then we do. If they say no, you must never come back here.”

John nodded eagerly. He had not yet spoken to his mother about coming to Chinatown alone, but if Mr. Tung was going to come to speak with her, surely she would see how rare and wonderful this opportunity was! 

Mr. Tung gave him a short nod. “Good. Tomorrow, I come to house, speak with parents. You show where home is.”

John nodded once more. “Yes, sir. My mother works in the banana fields, she will be home one hour before sunset.” 

“And father?” Tung asked.

John looked down and swallowed hard before answering, “It’s just my mother, my brothers, and I.” 

Mr. Tung nodded again and continued. “Then I come, speak with mother. You tell mother today. If she say yes, you come here, tell me, and I go.” 

John smiled. “Yes, sir, I know she will! I’ll speak with her tonight.” 

Tung picked up John’s backpack, handed it to him, and said, “Good. Go home. Help mother, do schoolwork.” 

John swung his bag onto his back, waved, and smiled again. 

“Good bye, Mr. Tung! I will see you tomorrow!” 

“Boy!” John turned back to look at Mr. Tung once more. 

“What is your name?” 

He smiled. “John, my name is John.” 

Mr. Tung nodded. “John. You go now, come tomorrow.” 

Chapter 7

 John walked side by side with Mr. Tung as he led the man to his home. The conversation with his mother he’d had the evening before was echoing in his mind. She had been surprised, and hesitant to give permission, as John’s schoolwork took up much of his free time. John was absolutely sure he could find time for both, and at last, they had agreed that as long as his scholastics did not suffer, he could also train martial arts. 

Now, she was home preparing a meal for Mr. Tung. Having a guest from Chinatown was very rare in John’s village. Though the island was small, each village had very distinct and unique characteristics. Chinatown was a place all villagers, from every part of the island, gathered for trade, but the Chinese who lived there rarely came to the native islander’s houses. 

“Our home is this one, here,” John gestured to the small hut, and Mr. Tung nodded. As they approached the open door, both John and Mr. Tung slipped off their sandals. 

“Mama, Mr. Tung is here!” John’s mother turned from the pot she had been stirring and smiled, as Mr. Tung stopped in the doorway and bowed. 

“We are honored to have you as guest, Mr. Tung.” John’s mother spoke quietly, somewhat embarrassed at her lack of skill in speaking English. 

“It is I, honored to come.” Mr. Tung answered, bowing again. His English was also not perfect, and in that moment John realized something truly remarkable – though Mr. Tung spoke several languages, and his mother spoke several completely different languages, there was only one that united them all. He grinned and thought of how proud Ms. Peters would be to hear them all using English to communicate. 

“Come, please, wash your hands and sit down.” As was customary in island culture, John’s mother had set only one place at their table. Mr. Tung washed his hands in the basin provided, and John held a towel for him to dry them. 

“Please sit, I have made supper.” John’s mother gestured to the single setting, and Mr. Tung looked confused, yet sat down. John’s brothers came out of the small bedroom and Mr. Tung immediately stood once again, then bowed to them. Joe and George both looked uncomfortable – it was an unusual situation for everyone in the room, as both of their cultures were very different from one another. 

John’s mother placed a bowl of taro pudding, a bowl of cooked fish, and a plate piled high with fried bread on the table, and John poured a cup of tea for Mr. Tung, setting it near the plate for the man. 

“Please, enjoy your meal.”

Mr. Tung sat staring for a moment at the food, then looked up at John with a puzzled expression. John stared back at him, not understanding why the man wasn’t eating – and, suddenly, realized it must not be the custom of the Chinese to serve guests as they did here on the islands. John thought back to all of the strange and confusing things he’d seen happening in Chinatown, and realized Mr. Tung must feel very much like he had when he’d first visited and seen their festivals and seemingly strange practices.

“Please, eat, Mr. Tung. You are our guest, it is an honor to watch you eat our food,” John explained gently. Mr. Tung considered the boy’s words, and then nodded in understanding. “I see. You also eat with me?” The question was met with wide-eyed surprise from everyone else in the room. 

John’s mother shook her head. “No, no, you are guest, you must eat now.” 

Mr. Tung took a deep breath as he thought about this new and different request. He picked up the large spoon which had been placed on the table.

“It is not my custom to eat with this, but I try to honor you with my use of it.” 

John’s brow furrowed. Mr. Tung didn’t use a spoon to eat? What could he possibly use, then? 

Mr. Tung ate his meal quickly, and stood once more. “Thank you, very good food.” His bow to John’s mother was deeper than before, and she smiled, pleased that he had enjoyed her cooking. 

“Now. Must speak of lessons.” 

John’s mother nodded and pulled a chair up to the table, then gestured for Mr. Tung to sit once more. When they were both seated across from one another, she spoke to her sons.
“Please, go outside while we discuss.” The three boys did as their mother asked, and once outside, Joe and George began to question John. 

“What is he talking about, lessons? What have you been doing the past few days?” 

John grinned as he answered. “Mr. Tung is an expert in martial arts. He agreed to teach me.” 

“What’s martial arts?” Joe asked. 

“It’s like boxing, but with lots more things too. Like kicks. Mr. Tung fought with one of the Americans last Saturday, and beat him! And the American was about twice as tall as him!” 

George’s eyes widened in surprise. “He’s going to teach you?” 

John looked at the house as he answered. “Well, I hope so. That’s what he’s discussing now with Mama. She said it would be alright, if I keep up with my schoolwork.” 

Joe shook his head in wonder. “You barely have time to get all that reading and English grammar work done as it is. It’s been forever since you even played football with us. What makes you think you’ll have time to learn boxing?” 

“Martial arts,” John corrected. 

“Whatever. You know what I mean.” 

John considered, and then answered his brother’s question. “I don’t know. I just can’t stop thinking about it. I guess I just want to do this more than I want to play football. I will make time.” 

Chapter 8

As John spoke with his brothers, Mr. Tung appeared in the doorway, slipped his sandals onto his feet and then stepped outside. Turning to the boys, he bowed his head slightly. 

“Thank you for invitation. I go now. John, you come Saturday, see Trias and I spar. Practice block until then.” 

With that, he turned and walked away. John raced inside to ask his mother about their conversation, his brothers on his heels. 

“Sit down, boys. Eat supper, and I will tell you about the conversation with our guest.” 

Eagerly, all three boys began to eat their food as John’s mother explained that Mr. Tung offered to teach John, and it was agreed he would go to the man’s house three times per week. John would agree to practice on the days he did not train with Mr. Tung, and also agree that if his school grades dropped or he found it too difficult to complete his homework, he would have to stop training. John knew this was a big commitment. He also knew that, if he didn’t make this commitment now, he would regret it for the rest of his life. John was ready. He didn’t understand why, but he knew that this was something he wanted more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life. He was ready to do whatever it took to excel. 

Several weeks passed, and each time John arrived at Mr. Tung’s home for his lesson, it seemed his teacher had something new for him to learn, and often it seemed to John that the lesson had nothing to do with martial arts at all. Opening the gate on a particularly windy day, John stepped into the courtyard that had become one of his favorite places to be.

“Hello, Mr. Tung.” John bowed as he had been taught when his teacher came out to greet him. Mr. Tung returned the bow.

“Good afternoon.”

“What are we going to practice today?” John asked as he began to do the stretches he had been taught in preparation for his lesson.

“Today, we work on balance.” Mr. Tung pointed to an old wooden beam that was lying on the ground.

“Walk across, don’t fall off.” John smiled, took a deep breath, and carefully walked, one foot in front of the other, the entire length of the beam. He jumped off, pleased he had so easily accomplished this task.

Mr. Tung nodded his approval.

“Now, hold hands out to sides, palms up.” John did as his teacher asked.

“Walk across, keep palms up.” It was more challenging, but John managed to cross the beam without falling once more.

“Good. Now for real test.” Picking up two small flower pots, Mr. Tung placed one in each of John’s hands, then motioned for the boy to step back onto the beam. “Don’t spill flowers.”

John looked at the delicate flowers in each of the pots and frowned. He had seen Mr. Tung work hard to grow many beautiful things, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin even one of them! Cautiously, he stepped onto the beam, thinking more about the flowers in his hands than his feet. Clumsily, John took three steps, tipped to the left, and, with a yell, jumped off the beam, working as hard as he could to keep from spilling anything. Somehow he managed not to drop the pots, but his heart was pounding. He looked at Mr. Tung, who had a smile on his face.

“Try again. Don’t spill flowers.”

John took a deep breath and returned to the end of the beam. This time he made it five steps, but his hands were getting sweaty, and the pots were becoming much harder to hold on to. He stopped thinking about where to place his feet, and once again went tumbling off the beam. One of the pots slipped out of his hand, and dirt and flowers went everywhere. John felt terrible, but when he looked at Mr. Tung he saw that his teacher was still smiling.

“Clean up, put back in pot. Try again.” It was not what John was expecting to hear, and he frowned.

“Mr. Tung, it’s too hard with the flowers. Can’t I just try again without them?”

Mr. Tung shook his head. “Nothing too hard. Only practice too little.”

After carefully scooping as much of the dirt as he could back into the pot with his hands, John picked up the flowers. Gently, he placed them back in the pot, patted the dirt around the roots, and then wiped his hands off on his shorts.

Taking a deep breath, John stood, holding the somewhat sad-looking flower pot. Mr. Tung had picked up the second pot, and once again, handed it to the boy. Gesturing at the beam, he motioned for John to try again.

This time, as John stepped up, he tried to focus equally on his feet and not spilling the flowers. Again, he made it five steps before losing his balance. With a loud crash, one of the flower pots again fell to the ground, and John realized he’d not made it any further than before.

“Clean up, put back in pot and try again.” His teacher’s response was patient, but John was not feeling very much patience himself.

“I can’t do it!” Frustrated, John sat down on the ground.

“No, you can’t. Not yet.” Mr. Tung picked up a small canvas bag.

“Keep trying. I go now to market. You stay, carry flowers across beam.”

“But, Mr. Tung, I can’t do it! It’s too hard!”

Mr. Tung squatted down next to John and looked him in the eyes.

“Right now, no, can’t carry flowers across beam. You never try again, you will never be able to carry flowers from one end to other.”

John shrugged. “Why is it important? How does that help me become better at martial arts? I just want to be better at fighting, not carrying flowers!”

Mr. Tung gave John a small smile. “Learn balance very important. This is how I learn; this is how I teach you.”

His answer wasn’t exactly what John was hoping for, but it seemed to be the only one he would receive, as Mr. Tung stood once again and left for the market.

Over the next half hour, John scooped dirt and flowers back into the pots many times as he continued to try to carry them all the way from one side to the other.

At last, Mr. Tung returned from the market.

“Enough practice for today, John. Tomorrow, you try again.” Holding out a small bowl of berries and a baked sweet bun, the teacher invited his student to sit with him.

“Mr. Tung, how long did it take you to be able to balance flower pots?” John asked as he ate.

Mr. Tung’s eyes twinkled. “Many days practice. Take even more practice, balance flower pot on head.”

John’s eyes widened. “On your head? That’s amazing! Will you teach me how to do that?”

Mr. Tung laughed. “First, must balance pots in hands. One step at a time, my boy.”

Chapter 9

Three years later

Sweat glistened on John’s shoulders and chest as he moved swiftly, ducking, blocking, and using his footwork to avoid his teacher’s rapid advance. As he raised his right arm to stop Mr. Tung’s incoming strike aimed for the side of his head, John simultaneously shot his left hand out in a punch aimed for his teacher’s ribs. The punch landed exactly where he intended, but in the next instant John felt himself falling, and he slammed into the hard-packed dirt. Lying flat on his back, John’s hands shot up to defend his face, and Mr. Tung put a foot on his chest. 

“Timing much better, but you still lean into punch. Easy to trip you, when your weight is forward.” John nodded, then with an explosion of movement, caught his teacher off guard and reversed the position. Standing, John grinned down at the man who was now lying flat on his own back.
“Yes, I did lean into that punch. But you let your guard down.” He grinned at the scowl he received in response.  

“You interrupt when I am teaching. Start again. Don’t lean, stay light on feet.” Mr. Tung sounded gruff, but John knew the man well enough to know he was impressed. 

Again, the two began by laying the backs of their right wrists against each others’, their feet spread and planted and left hands open, ready to counter any attack. 

John concentrated his eyes on Mr. Tung’s chin; from this point he could see the man’s entire body with his peripheral vision. Mr. Tung was dangerously still, and John began to wonder if he would move at all. Suddenly, John saw a flash of movement, and before he could react, there was a sharp pain as his teacher’s hand connected with his side. Bending towards the pain, John threw his hands up to block Mr. Tung’s continued strikes, mentally scolding himself for not seeing the strike coming. 

Mr. Tung reached to strike the side of John’s head with the back of his fist. John threw his hand up, grabbed his teacher’s wrist, and pulled him into a front kick. Mr. Tung stumbled back at the force of the kick, and John squatted down in a deeper stance, his hands up, still wary. Mr. Tung regained his stance and circled his young student, watching for the perfect opportunity to attack again. 

John took small steps, turning with his teacher, keeping the man in front of him. As Tung lifted his left foot to step, John lunged forward with a combination of punches. Mr. Tung blocked and parried most of the strikes, although several landed exactly where John intended for them to. Once again, in a sudden whirlwind of motion, John found himself slamming into the hard-packed ground. Flat on his back, he groaned and inwardly wished they’d decided to train on the beach that day. Being thrown into the soft, warm sand was much nicer than onto this hard, dusty ground! 

“Much better, but still, must not shift weight forward!” 

John sat up and nodded his agreement.

“Come. We eat and rest now.” Mr. Tung motioned with his hand for John to follow him into the small house in which he lived. 

As he followed his teacher, John paused for a moment just outside the door. Filling a dipper with water from Mr. Tung’s bucket, John drank thirstily. 

This is the very last time I will train and eat with Mr. Tung for years, maybe forever.

The thought made his chest tighten and his eyes water a bit. For over three years, John had trained with Mr. Tung multiple days a week. He had learned more from the stern, yet kind-hearted Chinese man than he had ever imagined would be possible. Not only had he gained much knowledge in the multiple fighting arts which Mr. Tung knew, he had also gained a friend and mentor unlike anyone had ever been to him before.

“John! You come now!” 

Mr. Tung called from inside, and John took a deep breath, then entered the small house that had become a second home to him. 

“Here, sit.” Mr. Tung gestured to a small table, and John sat down, happy to see a steaming bowl of rice and a plate of cooked fish. 

Over the past three years, John had learned many things, including how to eat with two thin sticks, as all the Chinese did. Mr. Tung had explained that not only the Chinese, but people in many Asian countries used the long, thin sticks to eat nearly everything. 

John grinned as he picked up the sticks and used them deftly to scoop rice into his bowl, and then manipulated them to pick up several pieces of fish. 

For a moment, the two ate in companionable silence, enjoying a good meal after a long workout. 

At last, Mr. Tung spoke. “You have everything you need?” 

John nodded. “Yes, sir, I’m pretty sure I do.” 

Tung picked up his bowl and the now-empty plate, and John stood to help clear the table as they continued their discussion. 

“Boat will go first to other islands, then to Australia. Many people you not know, many dangers for young boy.” 

John took a deep breath as he filled the tea kettle with water and handed it to Mr. Tung. 

“Yes, I know,” he responded quietly. In truth, John had been thinking a lot about his trip, and the fact that he would be traveling further from home than anyone in his immediate family ever had. He had also never lived away from his mother before, and he wasn’t quite sure how he would handle moving to another country, alone, at thirteen years old. It was all very exciting and overwhelming at the same time. 

Mr. Tung continued speaking as he measured tea leaves into a small teapot. 

“You will face challenges. Maybe some will be physical. Be aware. Be strong. Always be ready for anything. Maybe you never fight, this is best.” 

John took two teacups down from the shelf and carried them to the table. 

“How will I know if I should fight?” 

“When you have no other option, then you fight.”

John nodded. “I wish I could stay here and continue my studies at home.”

Mr. Tung poured hot water from the kettle into the teapot. 

“Yes, wish, but your path not meant to be only here, on island. You go now to Australia. Go with all of heart, not only body.” Carrying the teapot over to the table, Mr. Tung sat down once more and looked John in the eyes. 

“When you go, must live life there. Must not only think of life on Tulagi.” 

John nodded his understanding. “I will try, Mr. Tung. I will do my best to live life there as well as I can. I will do my best in all of life. I wish you could come, so I could continue training martial arts.”

Mr. Tung raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, something he did when he was going to say something he meant to be listened to. 

“You always train martial arts. Every day, you train. Tung not there to train you, but you not need me now. You learn much, you master nothing yet. Practice every day. Someday you come back, you show how you master techniques.” 

John grinned. 

“Yes, sir. I will practice every day.” 

“Remember all of lessons. Maybe you find danger in Australia. Maybe you find danger on boat. Be aware of what is around you. If can escape, do that.” 

John drank his tea and nodded his understanding. Mr. Tung had worked hard to teach him that his martial arts training was for the protection of himself and others, not starting fights. He hoped very much that he would not have to use his training at all on his long journey. 

“You will stay with family?” Mr. Tung asked as John reached to pour more tea for his teacher, then himself. 

“Yes, my aunt and her family. They live near the school.”

“And you will write to mother?” it was really more of an order than a question, and John grinned. “Yes, sir. I will write to my mother every week. And to you.” 

Tung gave a short chuckle. “No waste time writing to me. You study, you practice. Use time to do those things.” 

John knew Mr. Tung would appreciate letters, no matter what he said. 

“I will come back when I am done with school, and we will continue training. I promise, I will not forget anything you’ve taught me.”

The two sat and drank another cup of tea together, both silently lost in their own thoughts, both wishing life could go on as it had, but understanding that change, and growth, was necessary. 

As John closed the small blue gate for the last time, he turned and bowed to the man standing on the other side. He knew this was the close to a very important chapter of his life, but in the same moment, he knew that Mr. Tung was right. No matter where he went or what he ended up doing in life, he would never stop training. Somehow, he knew this was not the end, but only the next step towards becoming who he was meant to be.  

Chapter 10

Queensland, Australia

The house was larger than the hut John had lived in his entire life, but compared to many of the homes they had driven past on their trip through the city, it was quite small. As he walked up the path towards the front door, John took in the sight of his new home. This house was made of wood, with a porch running the entire length of the front, wrapping around the sides and out of sight. John had never seen this type of porch before; it had a full roof covering it, and several chairs scattered about. The house had been painted white at one point, but that must have been long ago, he observed. The paint was faded and peeling, and though the small yard was tidy, the entire place looked tired and old. 

“Come, meet your Australian family, Johnny.” His Aunt Mari had met him at the dock, and together they had traveled by bus through the city, something John had never experienced before. It had been exhilarating and also given him a stomachache like he’d never had in his life – even now, after walking the final leg of his journey from the bus stop to her home, he felt queasy. 

John followed his aunt up the wooden steps onto the porch, and for the first time realized there was an old man sitting in one of the chairs.
“Uncle, this is Johnny, from the island,” Aunt Mari said to the old man as she put an arm around John’s shoulders. 

Why she had decided to call him ‘Johnny’, he wasn’t sure, but John didn’t feel it was his place to correct her. He was going to be living in her house, after all! 

The old man nodded, but remained seated. “G’day, Johnny. Welcome to Queensland. Be happy you’re here to study, not work the plantation like I did.” 

John looked at his aunt, curious. 

“Uncle Tomasi came here many years ago and worked on the coconut plantations. We all did. I am sure he will tell you many stories during your time here. For now, come inside, you must wash and have some lunch!” opening the door, John’s aunt guided him into the house. 

Stepping inside, John suddenly felt a strong pang of homesickness. The familiar smell of fry bread and cooked fish filled the air, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes from filling with tears. His aunt directed him to a small stand with a washbasin and clean towel, for which he was very thankful. John dropped his bag and backpack on the floor, then poured water into the basin and washed his face and hands for the first time in several days. After drying off with the towel his aunt had provided, John looked around and noticed several things that were very different from his home. Unlike the small hut he had lived in all his life, this house had wooden planks for flooring, and brightly colored woven fabric pieces covering sections of those planks. Against one wall, there stood a wooden case with several shelves, and every one of the shelves was filled with books. John stared in surprise at the incredible sight. He had never before seen that many books in one place, not even at his school or library! There was also glass in the window frames, which had been very rare on the island. John found himself staring out the glass window in wonder – it was there, but he could see clearly, right through it!

“Come, Johnny, you must be very hungry.” Following his aunt through a doorway, he realized that the kitchen was a separate room. As he entered, John saw an overwhelming group of people gathered around a small table. Every one of them grinned broadly at him, and an old lady turned from her place at the stove to greet him as well. 

“You came, you came! All the way from Tulagi, child, we are happy to have you here.” Hearing the warm, kind words in his native language, John smiled back. 

“I’m Auntie Rosi. Tomasi’s wife, I’m sure you saw him outside.” She walked over, hugged him tightly, and then returned to the stove. 

“Yes, this is Auntie Rosi. And these are her two sons, Benny, and Matiu.” John’s Aunt Mari pointed to two young men seated at the table, and they nodded and smiled at him kindly. “These are my children, Adam, and Annie.” John nodded his greeting to the two small children. 

 “This is Johnny, come from Tulagi to study. Johnny, we’ve moved some things around so you can have a bed all your own. Sit down and eat some dinner, then I will help you get settled and Adam can show you around.” 

Benny moved down on the long bench upon which he and Matiu were sitting, and John sat down beside him. 

“Do all of you live in this house together?” John asked in wonder.

Benny laughed. “No, no, we don’t live here anymore – Matiu and I work in the city. We just come back when we get hungry for some good cooking,” he said.

“Which is nearly every day,” his mother called from the stove, shaking her head.

“Here, child, eat.” Auntie Rosi filled a plate with rice, fish, fry bread, and greens. John took the plate willingly and picked up the spoon that was also offered. 

Chapter 11

As Auntie Rosi filled plates and handed them out, John ate the delicious food and felt the queasiness from the earlier bus ride leave him. There was busy chatter as everyone ate and asked him about his trip. He found this group of people easy to talk with, much to his relief. John shared about the boat ride, and his very first glimpse of the port in Guadalcanal, where the boat had docked to pick up more passengers. It had been a long trip and he had eaten only what he’d brought with him, which had seemed like plenty when he’d first left Tulagi. By the time they arrived in port in Queensland, however, John had gone nearly two days without food, as he’d run out in spite of trying to make it last. He’d been grateful for the barrel of freshwater that had been available to all the passengers, but by the time he’d stepped onto land, John’s head was spinning and he was feeling weak. He decided not to mention the lack of food to his family, though. John didn’t want them to pity him, and besides, he reasoned, he was eating plenty now and feeling very refreshed. 

“Did they give you any trouble at the port?” Benny asked, interrupting John’s thoughts about his trip. 

“No, I don’t think so.” John had shown his papers about coming to school when asked, and some discussion had been made between Australian officers. John had been questioned by one of the officers and asked to write some different things on a paper in English, but in the end they had allowed him to come ashore, and made sure he was united with his aunt. 

“It’s a good thing your English is so good, then,” Benny said as he finished his plate of food. 

“Why is that?” John asked. 

“If you hadn’t been able to answer in English, chances are you’d be headed back the way you came.” 

Benny’s answer shocked John. Headed back? The trip had seemed long with plenty of food, he couldn’t imagine trying to survive the entire trip back without anything left to eat! 

“Benny, hush. He is here now, and there is no need to scare him with tales of what could have happened. Johnny! You need more food?” Auntie Rosi grabbed his plate from the table before John could answer and scooped more fish and rice onto it. 

“Eat, boy, you are too skinny!” 

Adam rolled his eyes and grinned at John. “She always says that,” he whispered, though at seven years old, his whisper was loud enough for the entire group to hear. 

John grinned back and took another bite. If she wanted to make up for the two days he hadn’t eaten, he wasn’t going to argue! 

He ate the second plate of food much slower than the first, and also drank the cup of tea offered. After finishing his meal, John stood, suddenly feeling very tired and realizing he’d left his backpack and bag of belongings lying on the floor near the washbasin. 

“I’m sorry, I forgot my things in the other room. I didn’t mean to leave them lying around.” The last thing he wanted was to give the first impression that he was careless and lazy! 

“You are tired and worn out from your trip. Don’t apologize. Adam, take Johnny and show him where to put his things, and where his bed is. Maybe you would like to rest?” Auntie Mari’s words were kind, and John smiled thankfully at her. 

“C’mon.” Adam ran ahead, and John followed him into the living room. Picking up the bags he’d discarded, John once again found himself staring in awe at the shelves of books. There must be at least fifty, perhaps even more! 

“Can you read English?” Annie had followed her brother and newfound cousin and now stood next to John as he stared. 

“Yes, I can. But I’ve never seen this many books before!” 

Annie stepped forward and pulled a small volume with a light blue cover off the shelf. 

“Will you read Peter Rabbit to us, Johnny? It’s my favorite!” 

“Not now, Annie – Johnny is tired. Mama said to let him rest.” Adam spoke to his sister before John could answer. John reached out his hand and took the book Annie had offered. Opening it gently, he was shocked to see colored paintings amongst the words on the pages. 

“I’ve never seen a book like this,” he said in awe, looking at the beautiful paintings of animals. “I’ll read to you later today, after I put my things away,” he answered gently, to which Annie smiled happily. 

“And after you rest,” Adam added. John grinned and nodded. “Yes, I may need to rest a bit as well.” 

The small bedroom which John was to share with Adam had a set of bunk beds along one wall, and a wooden chest sitting on the floor across from the beds. Above the chest, several nails were sticking out from the wall with various items of clothing hanging on them. A tiny desk stood under a window, which looked out onto the garden and backyard. In the middle of the room was another brightly colored cloth, lying on the floor. John knelt down to feel it; before entering this house, he’d never seen such a thing.

“What is this?”

Adam squatted down next to him. “A rug Mama made. Don’t they have rugs on the floor in Tulagi?”

John shook his head. “No. The floors in Tulagi are only dirt,” he answered.

“Oh?” Adam stared at John as though he might not believe him, then seemed to decide his cousin wouldn’t lie, and shrugged.

“This one is my favorite, that’s why Mama let me have it in here. I like the pattern.”

John nodded his agreement. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

Standing up, Adam pointed to the wall.

“These nails are for you, Johnny, and there’s room in the chest for your belongings.” He opened the chest and showed John where space had been made for his things. 

The room was small and cramped, but tidy and welcoming, all at the same time. John smiled at his cousin and knelt down in front of the chest to unpack his belongings. 

“The top bunk is for you, Mama says she doesn’t want me climbing up there until I’m older,” the little boy explained, pointing to John’s new bed above his own.

“And, when you’re done unpacking and resting, I’ll show you around outside. We have a swing!” Adam announced happily.

“Adam, leave Johnny alone to rest now,” Auntie Mari called from the other room, and the little boy waved before leaving and closing the door. 

John made quick work of unpacking, as he hadn’t brought many things from home. He felt his eyelids growing heavier by the minute, so after stowing his things in the chest, he climbed up onto the top bunk. Within seconds, he was sound asleep. In his dreams, John was sparring with Mr. Tung on the sandy shore of Tulagi.

Chapter 12

After the meal and a good rest, John was given the promised tour by young Adam. Together they explored the rest of the small house, and then Adam took his cousin outside. The back door opened to a large, flat space surrounded by a short wooden fence. Several tall, wide trees stood in the area, but other than the few trees, the space was open and covered by short, brown grass. 

This space will be perfect for training!

John grinned as he realized he could practice any of the number of forms Mr. Tung had taught him in this wide-open yard.  

“This is the yard where we can play. See our swing? Benny hung it for me on my birthday.” Adam ran over to a swing hanging from the limb of a large tree by two ropes.
“You can use it if you like, Johnny,” Adam graciously offered. John smiled at the kind gesture. “Thanks, but I don’t know how to use a swing. I’ve never even seen one! What do you do with it?” 

Adam sat down on the board between the two ropes and pumped his legs to swing higher and higher into the air. John watched in wonder, and when Adam jumped off and offered him a turn, he sat down and tried. After a few moments of trying to time his motion, John felt the rhythm needed and swung back and forth in a higher and higher arc. Suddenly inspired, he jumped up, placed his feet on the board, and grabbed onto one rope with both hands. Climbing quickly, John reached the limb of the tree, swung himself up onto it, and stood grinning down at his small cousin. 

Adam’s mouth hung open in shock, and he called up to John. 

“How did you do that?” 

“At home, we use vines to climb up into trees all the time. These ropes are much like the vines.” 

Adam grabbed the rope and attempted to pull himself up as John had, but slipped and fell. 

Sitting where he’d fallen, Adam called up to his new friend. “Will you teach me?”

“Sure, sometime.” John quickly climbed down the trunk of the tree and landed in the dust next to his cousin. 

“C’mon, I wanna show you what else I have.” Along the fence line in the back corner of the yard, there was a small shed. Adam pulled the door open to reveal an assortment of tools, flower pots, and fishing tackle. He entered the small shed, rummaged around, and came out holding a ball. Grinning at John, he held it out. 

“Do you play football?” John nodded and chuckled.

“Yes, I do. You should meet my brother Joe – he is one of the best on our island. I play some, but compared to Joe, I’m not very good at all.” 

Adam tossed the ball onto the ground and for the next several minutes the boys kicked the ball back and forth. 

“Did you play often at home?” Adam asked. 

“Not really. I was too busy studying. And training martial arts.” John wasn’t sure how his Australian family would feel about his martial arts training, but he knew he must keep up, and hoped they wouldn’t be opposed to it. 

“What’s martial arts?” Adam stopped the ball with his foot and the two rested for a moment. 

“Well, it’s training, kind of like boxing, but it’s from China. And Japan. Learning to use your body and mind to defend yourself,” John explained. He expected Adam to look at him as questioningly as everyone at home had when he had first started training with Mr. Tung, but to his surprise, the younger boy nodded in understanding. 

“Oh, that’s sort of like what Jack and some of the boys do.” 

John’s heart beat a bit faster at this news. 

There were others, here in Australia who trained like he did? 

He had never imagined he’d find others to train with! 

“Who’s Jack? And what do they do?” 

Adam shrugged. “Jack’s my mate at school’s brother. He’s older, maybe old as you, I dunno. But he does some sort of training like that. He tells us about it sometimes.”

“What kinds of things does he tell you about it? Does he train with someone from China?” John pressed for more information. 

Adam shook his head and picked up the ball. “No, nobody from China lives here. Not that I’ve ever seen, anyway. Jack goes to a class with some other guys. You can ask him about it at school tomorrow.” 

John followed his cousin as he returned the ball to the shed. 

“Will you introduce me to Jack? Tomorrow?” 

Adam smiled. “Sure, he’s nice to little kids, not like most of the older guys at school. You’ll like him.”

“Johnny, will you read Peter Rabbit to us now?” Annie jumped up and down as she held the small blue book. 

John grinned and nodded. “Sure, Annie. Let’s sit down together and I’ll read to you.” 

As John opened the book, he read about a family of rabbits, which to him were strange, unfamiliar creatures. Annie and Adam both cuddled up and listened to the story, looking over John’s shoulders at the painted pictures that accompanied the story. John was absolutely fascinated by this book. He was amazed at the colorful pictures, and the depiction of these animals which he’d never even heard of before. 

As he finished the book, John stared at the picture on the cover. “What are rabbits? Are they real creatures?” 

From the rocking chair across from where John sat with the children, Uncle Tomasi chuckled. “Real? They are too real!” 

Adam looked up at John in surprise. “You’ve never seen a rabbit? They’re everywhere! We even have a rabbit-proof fence to keep them out of this part of Australia!” 

“Ha, like that keeps ‘em out,” Uncle Tomasi commented again. 

John shrugged. “I’ve never even heard of them. On Tulagi, we have nothing like rabbits.” 

“You keep an eye out, Johnny; you’ll see plenty during your time here. And all of them like that Peter in the story – nothing but trouble.” Uncle Tomasi shook his head as he spoke. 

John looked at the book for a moment longer before handing it back to Annie. Rabbits certainly looked cute and kind to him, but then, he’d never even heard of them before today. 

“Will you read it again, Johnny?” Annie’s question brought a grin to his lips, and John shook his head. 

“I’m afraid not right now, Annie. I need to practice my forms. I must keep up on my training, I made a promise.” 

Chapter 13

As John made his way to the back yard, Adam and Annie followed, and, as he stretched and prepared to work his way through the sets of techniques Mr. Tung had taught him, they watched curiously. 

John took a deep breath. Mr. Tung had taught him many memorized patterns of techniques. Each of them helped him practice conditioning his body and mind in different ways. Mr. Tung had taught him carefully, concentrating on every small nuance of each technique as John performed them. Stances must be deep in places, and high in others. John began working his way through a simple form, executing the kicks, blocks, and strikes he’d memorized as perfectly as possible. As he steadied his breathing and focused on his balance, he found comfort and peace in the familiar pattern of movement. 

Finishing one form, John began working through the next, and the next after that. Annie wandered away after a couple, but Adam continued to watch, his interest clear. 

Finally, John finished with sweat dripping from his brow and causing his shirt to cling to his body. 

“Will you teach me that, Johnny?” John sat down next to his cousin on the porch steps to rest as Adam asked his question. 

“I’m afraid I can’t. I’m not a teacher, Adam, just a student. I haven’t mastered anything.” 

Adam’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? You look like a master to me!” 

John laughed. “That’s because you haven’t actually seen a master do anything. Mr. Tung, my teacher, is a master. I hope one day to know as much as he does. But I still have many things to learn.” 

Adam jumped up and punched the air wildly. “Well, then, I will just copy you, and you can teach me things when you’re a master.” 

John thought back to when he had not yet begun training, and how he’d thought he could learn just by watching Mr. Tung and Mr. Trias spar. Adam didn’t understand at all, just as he hadn’t understood then. Remembering his own excitement and passion, he smiled at his cousin.

“When I am ready to teach people, you will be the first,” he said kindly. Rising from the steps where he’d rested, John walked out into the dry grass and resumed his practice, this time focusing on kicks. Adam watched in fascination for several moments. 

“How much longer are you going to do that?” he asked finally. John gave him a slight grin and repeated the answer Mr. Tung had given him when he’d asked the same question years before. 

“The rest of my life, sometimes I just take breaks to do other things.” 

Adam laughed and tried to imitate John’s kicks. For several more minutes the two did their own versions of practice, and, at last, John stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow. 

“That’s all for today, buddy. Tomorrow school begins for me, and I must be ready.” 

John bathed and changed into a clean pair of pants, then looked carefully at the uniform his aunt had purchased for him to wear to school. On the island his school uniform had been a simple white shirt, worn with whichever shorts or long pants he chose. Here, he saw he would be wearing a light blue shirt with sleeves all the way to his wrists, dark blue shorts, and something else his aunt had hung on the shirt. John picked it up and stared at the long, thin, striped material. What could this be? Curious, John turned it over in his hands as though it might have instructions on the back. When he could find nothing, he hung it carefully over the shirt, as his aunt had. 

I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow.

Realizing how tired he still felt, John carefully pulled out his school books, placed them on the small desk, then sat down to write a bit of a letter to Mr. Tung. 

Dear Mr. Tung,

            I know you said not to bother writing to you, but I must. Today I practiced. There is space here to train! I am thankful. My cousin has told me that there are others here who train martial arts! I will meet one of them tomorrow. Maybe we can train together. I miss the island. 

Just writing the words made John realize how very homesick he felt. Everyone had been kind to him, but still he felt very alone. Closing his notebook and putting his pencil in a small jar on the desk, John lay down and closed his eyes. Thoughts of home, his family, and training with Mr. Tung filled his mind and caused several tears to escape his eyes. As Adam entered the room and got into bed, John rolled away from him so the little boy wouldn’t see his tears. 

“G’night, Johnny! I’m glad you came here,” Adam called from his bunk. 

John swallowed hard before answering, “Good night, Adam.” 

I hope someday I can say I’m glad I came here.

Chapter 14

John walked with Adam along the dusty road to school. He resisted the urge to tug on the striped cloth his aunt had tied around his neck. It turned out that thing was called a necktie, and he was required to wear it as part of his uniform every day. It was unfamiliar, and uncomfortable. 

As they approached the school, John saw what seemed to be a sea of students, all dressed as he and Adam were. The girls wore dresses, but they were the same shade of blue as the boy’s shirts, and the effect was almost dizzying. John could feel his heart beating faster. As he walked towards the doors to the building, several of the students stopped to stare at him. 

“Who’s this? A new one?” the voice was not friendly or kind, and John took a deep breath. He continued walking, ignoring the stares as he climbed the steps to the school building’s doors. Pulling one open, he stepped inside, but then stopped short. Never before had John seen such a large, spacious building. The hall before him seemed to stretch to eternity! 

“C’mon, Johnny. I’ll take you to the office.”

Adam grabbed his cousin’s hand and pulled him towards an open door. 

As they entered, the secretary greeted them and instructed John to take a seat at a small table near her desk. Placing a large stack of papers on the table, she explained he would need to complete a placement test to determine his proper grade. John worked until lunch, concentrating hard on the work before him. He tried hard not to give in to distractions as people came and went through the busy office, and dozens of students walked up and down the halls to and from their classrooms. Remembering Mr. Tung’s lessons on focusing even when greatly distracted, John pictured himself in the jungle, surrounded by mosquitoes and the nearly overwhelming sounds of birds, insects, and the ocean. A small smile appeared on his lips as he remembered some of those lessons when Mr. Tung would choose the noisiest, busiest part of the jungle, and then whisper instructions to his young student. It helped, and John continued his work steadily until at last, the school secretary tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Time for lunch, John. You may eat outside and then return here when the bell rings.” 

Grateful, John rose and stretched his stiff muscles. He picked up his backpack, slipped it over one shoulder, and headed back down the hall and outside. Blinking in the bright sunlight, John scanned the crowd, looking for Adam. 

“Hey you, where’d you come from?” 

The greeting was not at all a welcoming one, and John felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

Looking at the boy who had addressed him, John saw he was a couple of inches taller, and several other boys stood behind him, all staring at John. 

“I’m from Tulagi.” Casually, John put his hands on the strap of his backpack. He knew that having his hands in a strategic place would help him if he needed to avoid a fight. 

“Tulagi?” the boy sneered and took a step closer to John.
“Where in the world is Tulagi?” He said the word as though it was something dirty, and John took a deep breath to keep from getting upset. 

“Solomon Islands.” 

“Islands, huh? You live in trees and talk with monkeys and all that?” at this, the other boys laughed and gathered around until they’d surrounded John. He shifted his feet into an evenly weighted stance, knowing if this boy or his friends shoved him, he’d want to be able to stand his ground. 

“What’s the matter, you didn’t understand? I asked if you live in trees in the islands.” The boy took another step closer to John and stared at him with challenging eyes.

“I understood. No.” John kept his voice calm.

“What are you doing here anyway? Why aren’t you chasing monkeys on your island?”

“Same as you, I’m here to study and learn in school.”

The older boy sneered. “Same as me, huh? I don’t think so.”

He reached out with both hands and shoved John’s chest. The force of the shove caused John to shuffle his feet backwards slightly, but he stood firm. 

“Oh, you’re a tough guy, eh?” Clearly upset that John had not fallen, the boy raised a fist. 

John put one hand up, his palm out towards the other boy. 

“Don’t touch me again, I won’t fight you.” 

At this, one of the other boys called out, “C’mon, Eddie, take him down!” 

Eddie lunged at John, his fist aimed for the smaller boy’s face. Stepping to the side with his back foot, John swiftly moved out of the way, and Eddie went stumbling past him, nearly losing his balance. 

“Look, I don’t have any reason to fight you.” John spoke a bit louder than he had before, but Eddie turned and lunged at him again. Once again John quickly shifted his weight and turned, causing the older boy to stumble and fall to his knees. The boys surrounding them were cheering on their friend, and John silently wished to be anywhere but there. As Eddie stood once more, anger clear on his face, John took a deep breath and focused on his opponent. 

“You little freak, look at my knees! You’re gonna pay for that.” The fall had scraped Eddie’s knees and John could see a bit of blood on each one. 

Fists up, Eddie glared at John and circled around him, clearly not willing to dive in and stumble again, but very much wanting to fight. 

Careful not to cross his feet, John turned with the bully, taking small steps and keeping his breathing even. If Eddie lunged at him a third time, John knew he would have to do more than just step out of the way, and he was thinking hard about how to stop this fight without actually injuring the older boy.

Chapter 15

“Hey you, John, c’mon, mate, let’s go see about the free milk they give out on Mondays.” 

Bewildered, John watched as a boy with a messy mop of blonde hair broke through the ring of boys, stepped between him and Eddie, and, taking hold of John’s arm, walked quickly away from the bully. 

“Sorry, Eddie, he’s gotta be back at the office, you wouldn’t wanna send him there with a bloody face, now would you?” 

This was all done so quickly, John found himself up the steps and inside the building before he had a chance to speak. 

“How did you know my name?” 

The boy let go of his arm and grinned, holding out his hand. “I’m Jack. Adam said I should introduce myself, and I figured then was as good a time as any.” The twinkle in his eyes suggested that Jack thought himself very clever. 

John returned the smile with a small one of his own and shook Jack’s hand. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Adam told me about you.” 

“That makes two of us, Adam told me all about you as well. Turns out he wasn’t just talking, either – seems you know how to handle yourself.” Jack crossed his arms and looked at John with admiration. 

John shrugged and nodded his head toward the window. 

“Nothing was resolved out there. I only kept it from turning into a fight for a moment. You helped me escape the situation, and I am thankful. But I don’t think he will ignore me.” 

Jack nodded his agreement. “Yeah, bullies like him are always looking for a fight. You worried?” His face showed genuine concern. 

John shrugged. “Not worried he’ll hurt me, I am pretty sure in a fight he would be no match for me. But I have no desire to be in fights, especially at school.” The very real possibility of losing his scholarship for poor behavior did worry John. 

“Yeah, you did exactly the right thing out there, mate. Any teacher who might have seen that would have understood you weren’t actually fighting.” Jack patted John’s shoulder.

“Now, the real question is, did you get a chance to eat something before Eddie and his crew jumped you?” 

John shook his head, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. 

“C’mon then, let’s get at it, bell’s gonna ring soon.” 

“Where’d they decide to put you?” Jack had met John at the office when the final school bell rang, and together they walked outside into the bright sunshine. 

“Year seven,” John answered as he pulled off the necktie he’d already learned to hate and put it in his backpack. His head hurt from a long day of concentration and listening to the incredibly fast speech all around him. He’d been learning English since he was very small, but he’d never heard it rattled off at such speeds in his life, and the strain of keeping up with everyone’s instructions, questions, and conversations had caused a fatigue he never knew existed. 

“Hey, you’re with me, then! Harrow’s a good fellow, you’ll get along just fine.” 

John furrowed his brow in confusion, and Jack stared at him for a moment. 

“What is it?” 

John shook his head slightly. “Sorry, I’m tired. I didn’t understand what you said.” 

Jack smacked his forehead lightly and groaned. 

“I’m really sorry, mate. Forgot English isn’t your first language.” 

John gave him a small shrug. “It’s alright, just…your accents are hard to understand, especially when you speak fast. I’ll get used to it soon.” 

Jack patted him on the back. “You don’t give up easy, do you? I promise I’ll slow down when I speak. You just punch me if I forget.” John chuckled at this, and Jack returned his grin. “Just saying, we’ll be together. In class. I’m in year seven as well.” 

“I’m thankful for that, you have already been a friend to me. Thank you,” John said.

“Look, I know you’re tired. But Adam said you know some martial arts, and I’d like to take you to my dojo, to meet my sensei.” 

John looked at Jack, puzzled. “Dojo? Sensei? I didn’t understand you again.” 

“Ah, because those words are Japanese.” 

“Your teacher is Japanese?” 

“Nah, he’s Aussie like me. But he studied in Japan. He’s a black belt, and he teaches us a few days a week.” 

John’s heart beat faster. “I also trained several days a week. My teacher was Chinese. He also studied in Japan, and Okinawa. But, I never heard of a belt being important for martial arts. I would like to go see where you train, I’m mostly just tired of sitting in that office.” 

Jack smiled. “C’mon, then. And about the belts, the way my sensei teaches, the color of your belt shows how much you’ve learned.” 

John was curious about this practice. “So, your sensei has a black belt, which means he is a master?” 

“Yeah, I guess that’s right. He knows a lot, and he is always teaching us new things.” 

“What are the other colors of belts, then?”

“White to start with. Then green, then brown. After that, black.”

“And what is the difference between them? How can you be anything but a student or a master?” To John, the process from student to master had never been measured by steps, as Jack seemed to be saying. He was intrigued. 

“Well, Sensei Bruce says you are always a student. I guess it’s just a way for him to know what to expect from which students. When you’re a white belt, you learn the first things, blocks, strikes, stances. Simple forms. When you’re a green belt, you learn more difficult ones. I don’t know what all you learn for brown belt. I’m not there yet,” Jack explained with a grin. 

John processed this silently as they continued to walk.

 I wonder what ‘belt’ Mr. Tung would award me, then? Even the thought of such a thing seemed strange to him. Perhaps Mr. Tung knew about this, but had never spoken of it. John decided he would ask about that in his letter before sending it. 

“Here we are, Sensei Bruce’s place. He has a barn out back, that’s our dojo. C’mon, you can meet him before I have to change for class.” 

Change into what? John didn’t get a chance to ask, as Jack opened a small gate and led the way to the barn. 

Chapter 16

John’s introduction to ‘formal’ martial arts classes was as shocking and exciting as the day years ago when he’d first seen Mr. Tung and Robert Trias sparring. Here, John watched in puzzled fascination as several teenagers wearing white robes and pants stretched and did simple exercises similar to the ones he did every day. It was the strangest experience, standing there, watching everyone do what he himself did, the same in so many ways, yet so incredibly different at the same time. 

Jack left to change into his own white clothes, and John stood quietly, observing the small group of students. 

A few minutes later, Jack returned and set his backpack down next to John.

“Why are you all wearing those white clothes?” John asked. 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “They’re our uniforms. What do you wear for your training?”

“Just…clothes. Usually only shorts,” John answered with a shrug. 

“Oh? That would be interesting.” Jack pulled a long, folded piece of green cloth from his backpack and held it up for John to see. 

“Look, I got my green belt a few months back.” 

John looked closely at it. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it! 

“That doesn’t look like any belt I’ve ever seen,” he said truthfully. 

“Yeah, I thought the same when I started. Hey, Sensei Bruce is coming! I’ll introduce you.” 

John watched as a man entered the barn, wearing the same type of white suit Jack and the others were dressed in. Around his waist was tied a black strip of cloth, similar to the green one Jack held. The knot was at the center of his waist, and the two ends hung down on either side. He was tall, and had short, light brown hair and a beard. 

As Jack approached the man, John watched them bow to each other, just as he had been taught to respectfully greet Mr. Tung. Yet another familiar practice in a completely foreign setting gave him the feeling of being home, and completely out of place, all at once. It was a very strange, unsettling feeling, and John wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to it. Jack’s teacher walked over to where John was standing. 

“Hello, John. Jack tells me you’ve trained in karate back home.” 

John looked at his friend with raised eyebrows. Another new word he didn’t know!

“Um, well, I trained martial arts, but I don’t know what…kar..karate is, sir.” John stumbled over the new word. 

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry, not karate specifically. That’s what I teach here. If you’d like to stay and watch the class, perhaps you could tell us what similarities there are to what you’ve learned?” 

“Yes sir, very much. Thank you.” John filed the new word away in his mind to write to Mr. Tung about. There were so many new things to remember! 

As more students in white suits arrived, John was shown a bench where he could sit and watch the class. He had never witnessed a group of martial artists training together, and he was fascinated to watch as they all stretched and warmed up their bodies. Part of him longed to jump up and join in, and the other part was too fascinated to move. Just watching them was enough to make his heart race with excitement. 

As John observed, Sensei Bruce walked up to the front of the large, open room. The students collectively quieted and watched him. He stood, feet apart, hands in fists, and called out in a loud voice. Instantly the students responded by lining up in rows. John had never seen anything like this. He watched, fascinated, as Sensei Bruce called out once more something he could not understand, and all of the students picked up their belts. With a flurry of colorful motion, they wrapped them around their waists and tied them in the same manner their teacher’s was. Belts tied, the students once again stood facing Sensei Bruce in orderly lines. John was impressed; there were three lines of students, and now that they all had their belts on, he saw they were coordinated by color. 

For the next hour, Sensei Bruce called out in Japanese, and the students responded collectively. Punching, kicking, blocking, always in unison, John watched the group practice many of the same moves he himself had learned. Some were different, and some looked to be different ways of doing the same thing. At times, the different students with different belts would step back and allow a group of one color to perform, and then trade places. Jack’s group of six green belts stepped to the center at one point and performed a form so similar to one that Mr. Tung had taught John, he could hardly believe it. 

At the end of class, the students all bowed and removed their belts. Jack ran over to John, sweat dripping from his forehead, a grin on his face. 

“So, what’d you think, mate? Anything like what you did back home?” 

Sensei Bruce came up behind Jack and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m curious to know the same thing, John. What did you think of our karate class?” 

John rose from his seat. “It was very much like parts of what I have learned. Mr. Tung – my teacher – taught me many of the same things you did today. He taught me deeper stances, but still very similar.” Every bone in his body ached to jump into action and show what he knew, but he didn’t know if that would be allowed. After all, he reasoned, this was a karate dojo, a place he had never even heard of before today. 

“I’d like to see something of what you’ve studied, if you’re willing,” Sensei Bruce said, and John’s heart raced. Had he voiced his desire out loud? It seemed Sensei Bruce and Jack were as excited to see John’s martial arts as he had been to see theirs, and he nodded, noticing suddenly that he felt nervous. 

“Yes sir, I’d love to.”

Chapter 17

Stepping out to the middle of the floor, John took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened his eyes, John didn’t think about who was watching or where he was, only the moves of his form. Executing the techniques as perfectly as he was able, John went through the motions he’d done hundreds of times before. In his head, he could hear Mr. Tung’s corrections being called out in places John struggled. Noting them, he had worked hard to correct his faults, and when he finished the form, he bowed low, then raised his eyes and realized every student in the barn was watching him. 

“Well, you’ve certainly been taught by a master, I can see that.” Sensei Bruce’s praise caused John to blush and he looked down at the floor, unsure of what to say. 

“Look, I’m sure what I teach is quite different in some ways to what you have been learning. But there are a lot of similarities, as well. If you’d like to join us and train here, I’d be happy to have you as a student.” 

John smiled the entire way home. When Jack said goodbye and they parted ways, John broke into a run, so excited he couldn’t stand to wait another moment. Now, his letter to Mr. Tung would be full of good news!  

As he stepped inside his Aunt’s home, he realized there was something he’d forgotten. In his excitement, John had completely ignored the fact that his family might object to his training with Sensei Bruce. He was here to study, after all. 

“Johnny, is that you?” Auntie Mari called from the kitchen, and he made his way back to the small, cheery room. 

Adam and Annie both sat at the table, cups of tea and a plate with slices of bread between them. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come straight back from school,” John began. 

Auntie Mari turned from the stove where she was making dinner. 

“Adam said you were with Jack, so I didn’t worry. Jack’s a good boy; I knew he’d take care of you. Just don’t go wandering off alone, you don’t know the area yet and we wouldn’t want you to get lost,” she said kindly. 

John smiled in relief. “Thank you, Auntie. Jack took me to see his martial arts class. They invited me to join!” 

“Arts? Like painting? I didn’t know Jack was into art.” 

“No, Mama, not that kind of art! It’s fighting!” Adam jumped in.

Auntie Mari looked concerned. “Fighting? Johnny, I don’t want you fighting. I didn’t think Jack was the kind of boy to get into fights.” 

John took a deep breath and set his backpack down, then responded. 

“It’s not art, like painting, and it’s also not fighting. Martial arts is training, it does involve striking and kicking, but Mr. Tung, my teacher back home, and also Jack’s teacher, teach us not to get into fights. It’s something I have been learning since I was ten, and I would very much like to continue training here, with Jack.” 

“Do you think that would interfere with your schoolwork?” Auntie Mari asked. 

“No, ma’am. My mother had the same concerns when I started training with Mr. Tung. I have been able to keep up with both for three years now. I can do the same here as I did at home, if you will allow it.” 

Auntie Mari turned back to the stove. “Well, if your mother allowed it, then I won’t stop you. But if your schoolwork suffers, I may want you to stop.” 

John could barely contain his excitement. “Thank you, I will work hard, I promise.” Grabbing a slice of bread, he stood and picked up his backpack. 

“Speaking of, I must get to my schoolwork. Thanks again, Auntie.” 

Over the next four days, John worked hard to get adjusted to his new school schedule, and barely had time to think about anything but studying, doing his homework, and re-reading the material his teacher covered in class. He was slowly adjusting to the speed and accent of the English around him, but still missed some of the spoken instruction in class and had to make up for it by poring over his books slowly, to make sure he did his assignments correctly. The small desk in his bedroom had become the place he spent most of his time, though he did manage to get outside and work out at least a few minutes each day. It wasn’t as much practice as he wanted, but the pressure of not falling behind in his studies meant that, for now at least, he had to spend less time than he wanted to on his martial arts training. 

At school, John had managed to avoid Eddie, mostly by spending his breaks studying in his classroom instead of going outside with the rest of the students. He wasn’t doing it to avoid the bully, but there was the added benefit of not having to deal with him. John’s teacher, Mr. Harrow, expressed appreciation for his hard-working attitude and went out of his way to supply John with additional books to make sure he understood all that was being covered. John was grateful, but feeling rather overwhelmed. The stack of books he was supposed to read and know well enough to not only recall, but also discuss grew taller every day, it seemed. 

Walking outside at the end of the school day, John took in a welcomed breath of fresh air and turned to walk home. 

Chapter 18

“Hey, John, where you off to, mate?” Jack ran up and asked. 

“Home to study more,” John answered. 

“Nah, you can’t go home yet. Today’s karate class and you were invited to join, remember?” Jack patted him on the shoulder excitedly. 

John’s heart jumped. In all of the studying he’d been doing, he’d nearly forgotten about the karate class! 

 “I want to come, but I’m worried about all the work I have to do,” John explained. 

“Hey now, you’ve worked every minute of the day, every day since you got here. You don’t even come outside for lunch!” Jack responded. 

“I know. It’s all I can do to keep up with everyone, Jack. It’s much harder than I thought it would be to study here.” The truth was discouraging. John was feeling overwhelmed, and it felt good to admit it to someone. 

“Mate, I’m really sorry it’s been so rough. You’re a great student, Mr. Harrow says so, and we all see it. You’ll be okay, even if you get a question or two wrong here and there.” 

John sighed. “You don’t understand, Jack. I can’t get low marks, ever. I’m here on scholarship, and if I don’t do well, I will lose it. My family needs me to succeed, and graduate.” 

Jack took a deep breath and looked down at the ground for a moment, before meeting John’s eyes. 

“I’m truly sorry it’s such a weight on you. I guess I didn’t realize how important all this is. If you want, I can come over and help you in the afternoons. I’ve gotta do my own homework anyway, and if we do our work together, I might be able to explain things you need help with. Besides, from what I’ve seen you’re top notch with maths, so you could help me where I’m drowning. Maybe that would ease the load a bit for both of us, eh?”

The offer shocked John. He had been so weighed down trying to do his work alone, he hadn’t even considered how helpful it would be to have a friend there to explain when he didn’t understand things. 

“I’d like to try that, Jack. Thank you!” 

Jack’s grin returned. “Of course. Now, let’s get ourselves to Sensei Bruce’s place, you’ve got a karate class to join!” 

“And homework after,” John added. 

Jack nodded. “Yup, we’ll get it all done, don’t worry.” 

“John! Good to see you again. Have you decided to join our class?” Sensei Bruce greeted the two boys as they walked into the barn. 

“Yes, sir, I would like that very much. I asked my aunt, and she has given permission,” John replied. 

“That’s wonderful. I am happy to have you. Do you have a karategi?” 

John looked at Jack, confused. 

“Uniform. You haven’t got one, have you?” 

Shaking his head, John looked back to Sensei Bruce. 

“No, sir, I have never worn anything special to train in. Mr. Tung never spoke of uniforms or belts, or anything like that,” he explained. 

“Alright, we’ll get you one, then. Have you the funds to buy it?” 

John bit his lower lip. Auntie Mari hadn’t said anything about the cost of his school uniform, which she had purchased before he’d arrived. Everyone had been very inviting and kind, but it was clear they didn’t have a lot of extra money. Just having him living in their home was one more mouth to feed, and he was trying hard not to cause any additional burdens on top of what they already provided.

“Honestly, sir, I don’t think so,” John answered, the disappointment clear in his voice. He hadn’t even considered that he’d be expected to wear one of the special uniforms in order to train, but it made sense, all of Sensei Bruce’s students wore them. 

“Never mind for now, we’ll work something out. Today, stay in your school clothes. You can start stretching and warming up with the rest of the group.” 

John did as Sensei Bruce directed him, but as he went through the familiar motions of stretching, he worried about how in the world he was going to earn the money for a uniform. As it was, he couldn’t spare enough time to practice each day. How would he find a job, and find the time to work that job? It was all very overwhelming. 

“Hey, you alright?” Jack was warming up next to John, and saw the serious look on his face. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stay, Jack. I don’t know how I will buy a uniform.” 

Jack was quiet for a moment, thinking as he stretched. 

“Maybe Sensei has an extra one he can give you,” he suggested. 

John shook his head. “Everyone here bought their uniform, right? I don’t want to be here unless I can do the same.” Perhaps it was pride, but John had already been given so many things for which he could never repay his family, he didn’t want to be a burden at karate class, as well. 

Before calling the class to line up, Sensei Bruce approached the two friends. 

“John, listen. I know you are not familiar with Japanese terms. Today, I am giving Jack permission to stand next to you, and when I call a command, he will tell you what it is. If you have not learned the technique, I want you to stand and observe as the others perform it. If you need someone to guide you through something, Jack can do that.” 

It was an exhilarating, amazing hour for John. Though he felt out of place and this was an entirely new way to train, he enjoyed it immensely. Jack was truly helpful, and Sensei Bruce repeated the same commands often enough, by the time they all lined up at the end of class, John was able to keep up with the last few exercises without his friend’s help. 

Chapter 19

After bowing and finishing the class, Jack introduced John to several other students. Chatting with these new friends for several minutes, he forgot about the heavy school load and the problem of not having a uniform, and just enjoyed the camaraderie of being with a group of fellow martial artists. It was like finding family he never knew he had, for as they discussed the different aspects of each other’s training, John couldn’t believe how similar theirs was to most of what he and Mr. Tung did. 

At last, the group began to disband, and Jack left to change back into his school uniform. 

“Right, mate. Off to our homework, eh?” Together, the boys walked back to John’s home. As they worked their way through their assignments, Jack slowly and carefully explained each portion to his new friend, and John couldn’t believe how much easier everything came when he had someone there to explain things. When they moved on from English and history to mathematics, Jack groaned. 

“Alright, here we go. Time to switch places. You try to make sense of this jibberish to me.” John grinned and began to walk his friend through the equations. 

Just over an hour after they’d sat down, all their work was done. John looked at the clock on his aunt’s living room wall in wonder. 

“It’s not even supper time, Jack, and we’ve gone to karate class, and finished our schoolwork! You’ve helped more than I could ever say. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

Jack chuckled as he stuffed his books into his backpack. 

“Well, if you’re really keen to thank me, we could spar,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

“Spar? What is this word?” John asked. 

“Spar, mate – don’t tell me you didn’t spar with that Tung fellow. Fight, like use all the stuff from class, on each other.” 

Now it was John’s turn to chuckle. “Ah, I see. I do not know that word, but I…sparred, very often with Mr. Tung. I have been wishing for a chance to spar with someone.” 

John led Jack through the kitchen and out the back door, to the yard. Turning towards his friend, John held out his right hand. 

“What’s this?” Jack looked puzzled. 

“Whenever we spar, this is how we begin,” John explained. “Put the back of your wrist against mine. Then we can feel each other’s movement, and react quickly.” 

Jack shrugged and laid his wrist against John’s. “Not the way we do it, but I’m game,” he said as John shifted his weight and assumed a fighting stance.

Stepping in small circles, Jack followed John’s lead and the two watched each other, waiting for an opportunity. Suddenly, Jack lifted his foot, kicking towards John’s stomach. In an instant, John reached down, grabbed Jack’s ankle, and stepped to the side, twisting his friend and causing him to lose his balance. As Jack flailed his arms, attempting to keep from falling to the ground, John stepped closer, striking Jack’s body with his fist. He released Jack’s leg, and his friend stumbled backwards, lifting his hands to guard his face. John continued advancing, alternately striking at Jack’s head and body, causing his hands to move towards the strikes and open up an unblocked target in either place as he did so.

“Whoa, there, mate, give a fellow a chance to take a breath!” Jack stepped away from his friend, bent over, and rested his hands on his knees. 

John relaxed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I think I’m outta my league, mate.”  

“What does that mean?” John asked.

Jack grinned up at him. “It means you’re much better than me, that’s what it means. Think you’d better spar with the brown belts, and let us greens catch up a bit.” 

John chuckled and shook his head. 

“No, you just aren’t used to doing things my way,” he explained graciously. 

“Let’s go another round then,” Jack said, squaring his stance once more. However, before the boys had a chance to begin a second round Auntie Mari stepped out from the kitchen and called to John. 

“Dinner is ready, Johnny, and Jack’s welcome to join us if he thinks his mother won’t mind,” she said, waving for the two of them to come inside. 

“I better get home, much as I’d love to stay and eat your aunt’s cooking, my mum doesn’t know I’m here, and she’ll be starting to worry if I don’t show up soon,” he explained, following John into the house. 

“See you tomorrow, mate. Thanks for the help in math!” Jack called as he shouldered his backpack and headed home. 

Over the next few days, Jack came home with John after school, and the two helped each other with homework and assignments. John attended another karate class, and was encouraged with how much better he was able to follow the instructions Sensei Bruce gave than he had been the first time. Jack told their teacher about John’s skill in sparring, and after class he approached John. 

“I hear you’re quite good at sparring,” he said. John didn’t know how to respond; Mr. Tung had not often given compliments, and John had never sparred with anyone but his teacher, and a bit with Jack. 

“Mr. Tung and I sparred often, it was a very large part of my training,” he explained.

“We do spar here, but it is does not play a large role in our training. Perhaps in a week or two we will have a sparring class. I look forward to seeing your skill. You are proving a sharp-minded fellow, John. I’ve noticed how quickly you’re picking up the lessons.” 

Once again, John was at a loss as to how to respond to Sensei Bruce’s praise. He looked down at his feet, then felt a gentle pat on his shoulder. 

 “I’m glad you decided to join us,” Sensei Bruce said before walking away to speak with another group of students. 

Picking up his backpack, John gave a little wave to the other students as he left with Jack to go home. 

Chapter 20

“So, did you ask your aunt about a karategi?” Jack asked as they walked. 

“No. She can’t afford it, I know that. If I asked, I know she’d try to find a way, but…I just can’t do that. I’m going to have to work myself to buy it,” John answered. He had been trying to figure out what he could do to earn money, but so far hadn’t come up with any good ideas. Life here was so different than back at home, he didn’t even know where to start. 

“Do you know of any jobs I could do?” he asked. 

“Well…” Jack thought as they walked. “You could kill rabbits,” he suggested. 

John looked at him in shock. “Kill rabbits?” 

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, they’re a nuisance. They pay five shillings apiece if you bring ‘em in dead,” he explained. 

John shook his head. “I can’t do that.” Images from the book he now read nightly to his young cousins about the rabbit named Peter entered his mind. Even if they were a nuisance, he knew he could never kill them, even for money. 

“Well, then, you could offer to tidy up yards, weed gardens, or do odd jobs for folks,” Jack continued. 

“That would be great! I could do that, now that my homework isn’t taking until suppertime,” John said with a grin on his face. 

“I’ll ask around, see if anyone’s looking for odd jobs to be done. Don’t worry, mate. You’ll get your karategi in no time.” 

True to his word, Jack came to John’s house the next day with a list of three different addresses John could visit to inquire about work. When John realized he didn’t know how to find the addresses Jack’s mother had written down, his friend grinned and said he’d go with him. 

As they stepped up to the door of the first home, Jack reached out and knocked. 

“Jack Parker? You’ve grown up since last I saw you!” 

The woman who greeted them at the door spoke to Jack and then looked at John, her smile fading. 

“And who’s this?” 

“I’m John Ramo, ma’am,” John began. “I’m looking for some work, odd jobs and such, to earn some extra money.” 

“He’s in karate class with me, Mrs. Summers, working to buy a uniform.” 

“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any work for you. Jack, I might have some things you could do for pocket money, but I really don’t think spending your free time learning those Japanese things is a good idea. Especially with his type.” 

Her unkind words stung, but John had been warned both by his family and Mr. Harrow that not everyone felt kindly towards Islanders. 

As they left, Jack scowled. “I’m really sorry, mate. Didn’t realize she’s never learned manners.” 

“It’s alright. My aunt and I spoke about this. Sometimes, the color of a person’s skin or the way they appear causes others to think they are different on the inside, as well.” 

“Yeah, that’s rotten, I’d expect better from an old lady like her,” Jack responded angrily as they walked away. 

John patted his friend on the shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright, really. You, Mr. Harrow, Sensei Bruce, so many have been kind and not even mentioned that my skin is darker and my hair curlier,” he said. 

Jack still looked upset. “And my kicks faster,” John added, hoping to ease the tension with some humor.

Jack gave his friend a small smile at this. “Yeah, well, she still shouldn’t have been so rude. She has no idea what kind of person you are.” Jack’s parents had taught him to respect all people equally, but there were some who did not think the way they did, and it hurt. 

The boys walked on for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. At last, Jack stopped and pointed to another house. 

“This is the next address on my mum’s list. I could go up and ask first, if you want,” he offered. 

“No. I’ll go up as well. It’s okay, Jack.” Squaring his shoulders, John followed his friend up onto the wide front porch. 

A woman answered the door, and smiled when she saw Jack. 

“Hello, there, you’re Millie’s boy, aren’t you? And who’s this with you? What are you boys up to?” 

Jack quickly explained why they were calling, and the lady nodded. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I was just talking with my Tom about all the brush and bushes getting nearly out of control in our yard, and shouldn’t he do something about it? I think if you’re willing, young man, you’d be the perfect answer to our problem. Come in out of the sun and we can discuss what price you’re asking for your services.” 

The friendly response was so unlike their first encounter, both John and Jack stood silently a moment, shocked. The call from inside that lemonade was being poured caused them to snap out of it though, and both boys eagerly stepped into the house. 

John couldn’t have imagined a better outcome. Not only was the woman friendly, and her back yard a true mess with plenty of work to keep him busy, she was also offering him ten shillings each day he was able to work! John wasn’t sure how much the karategi cost, but he was confident that he would be able to save enough to buy one, working for this kind lady. With a lightness in his step, John ran the entire distance home. Beginning tomorrow, he’d be earning money. He’d have his own karategi before long at all! Grinning from ear to ear, John rushed to his room and pulled out a piece of paper. 

Dear Mr. Tung,

I have a job! I can buy the karategi and stay in Sensei Bruce’s class. 

I am keeping up with my studies and my training. I wish you could meet Jack. He is the best friend I have ever had, besides you. 

Chapter 21

John stepped outside onto the steps of the school building, closed his eyes, and turned his face toward the hot sun. It felt good to be outdoors for a bit!
Thanks to Jack’s help and Mr. Harrow’s patient instruction, John was consistently completing his work with time to spare, and now could afford to spend his lunch breaks out in the fresh air with his friends. Several of the boys from karate class also attended his school, and John was looking forward to eating lunch with them. 

Spotting the group of boys from his dojo sitting at a table, he headed over to join them. Before he had taken more than a few steps, however, John felt himself shoved hard from behind, and stumbled to catch his balance. Raising his hands and spinning around quickly, his heart sank as he saw who had shoved him. 

“Hey, islander boy, I wondered when you’d come outta hiding and face me,” Eddie sneered. 

John took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight you, Eddie. I have no reason to hurt you.”

“You? Hurt me? I think you’ve got it backwards, you little creep,” Eddie sneered.

John glanced around, noting that most of the students in the schoolyard were still oblivious to the two of them.

“What’re you looking for, someone else to come rescue you? That ain’t gonna happen this time,” Eddie taunted.

“You have no reason to dislike me. Why do you want to fight so badly?” John asked calmly, his voice steady.

“I have every reason to dislike you. You Islanders don’t belong here, especially in school. This school is for Aussies.”

John took a deep breath. Arguing with Eddie would be pointless, but he had to do something.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I only came here because we don’t have schools like this in the islands. I will leave you alone if you leave me alone.”

It was an offer Eddie would have been wise to accept, but the bully only stepped closer to John.

“You’re gonna wish I’d left you alone,” he said menacingly. John kept his eyes focused on Eddie, but out of the corners of his eyes he could see the bully’s group of followers gathering around them, as they had the first time Eddie had tried to fight him.

The punch started from Eddie’s hip and was aimed at John’s face. Eddie threw his entire weight into the blow. John’s hands had already been up, and as the punch came in towards his face, he grabbed the bully’s wrist with one hand, and at the same time ducked his head to the side, so that Eddie missed his face. Pulling and quickly twisting so Eddie’s arm bent at the elbow, John gripped tightly and stepped closer, causing the older boy to gasp in pain.

“Listen, I am not going to fight you, and I am not going to leave school because of you.” John continued to apply pressure, and Eddie gritted his teeth, shocked at the strength of the younger boy.

“You are going to stop bothering me, and everyone else for that matter. Got it?” From somewhere inside, John felt a calm strength as he spoke these words.

Eddie nodded, and John released a bit of pressure on his arm. With an angry yell, Eddie took advantage of the moment and kicked at John’s leg, catching him in the shin. The next moments happened in a blur of motion, for John had spent so many hours training to react to different attacks with Mr. Tung, he responded automatically. Dropping in pain, John brought Eddie down with him, flipping the boy onto the ground and rolling so that he ended up with the bully’s face in the dirt, and his arm twisted behind his back. Placing a knee on Eddie’s back and holding his arm tightly, John realized he’d drawn more attention than he’d intended, for a large crowd of students had now gathered.

“I said before, I’m not going to fight you. I could break your wrist if I wanted to,” John spoke in a loud voice as he put a bit more pressure on Eddie’s arm for emphasis.

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t care if you don’t want me here. What is, is. Accept it.”

Eddie mumbled something into the dirt.

“I can’t hear you.” John’s voice was steady, but his heart was pounding in his chest as he realized how many people were now watching them.

“I said fine!” Eddie turned his head to the side and said through his teeth.

“You won’t bother me anymore. Agree to it.”

“Alright, I won’t bother you. I said fine, didn’t I?” Eddie responded.

John released his grip on Eddie’s arm and stood. The bully rolled over onto his back, and John stepped close, holding out a hand to help him up. He knew he ran the risk of Eddie yanking him down, or kicking him in the shin again. Aware of the possibility, John still wanted to make sure everyone understood he wanted peace. Warily, Eddie reached out his left hand, gripped John’s, and stood. Cradling his right wrist to his chest, Eddie stared at John for a moment, unsure of what to make of the situation. After a moment, he took a step backwards, then turned and walked away.

“C’mon, what’re you all staring at, anyway? Get away from him, he’s crazy,” Eddie called to his friends, who quickly followed him. The crowd dispersed, and John found himself surrounded once again, this time by his friends from the dojo.

“That was amazing, mate!”

“You should have broken his wrist and smashed his face in, he’s always picking on everyone,” one of his classmates said.

John shook his head. “No. True power is not doing what you don’t need to. He knows I could have broken his wrist, and didn’t. That is enough.”

“You gotta tell Sensei Bruce all about this!” another chimed in.

John sighed, then gave them a small grin. “I have the feeling I won’t have to,” he said, walking over to the table and pulling out his lunch.

Chapter 22

As Jack and John walked into the dojo the next day, Sensei Bruce approached them.

“I hear you had an encounter with a bully yesterday,” he said.

John didn’t know the word encounter, but he understood what Sensei Bruce was referring to.

“Yes, sir. I tried to keep him from fighting me, but he wouldn’t listen to words. I had to stop him.” John didn’t know how his sensei would feel about what had happened, and he wondered if perhaps he would be upset.

“I understand that. Unfortunately I know that boy’s father, and he is much the same, always ready to argue about something. From what I hear, you did a good job controlling the situation. I’m proud of you, and I can see your Mr. Tung taught you what it means to be a martial artist, not just how to do martial arts. It’s what I strive for with my students as well.”

John looked down at the compliment Sensei Bruce gave him, but looked up again when the man said his name.    

 Holding out a parcel wrapped in brown paper, Sensei Bruce smiled at John. “It’s for you, came yesterday. Open it.” 

John pulled back the paper to reveal a white, folded karategi. He looked up at Sensei Bruce, confused. 

“Sir, thank you, but I can’t accept this; I will need to work many weeks to earn the money to pay for it.” 

Sensei Bruce gave him a short nod. “Jack told me you found yourself a job, earning money to buy this. I’m trusting you to bring the money when you’ve earned it. In the meantime, no use having it sit here while you train in your school clothes. Go change, let’s see how it fits.” 

John hesitated. What if he lost his job? What if he didn’t earn enough? Doubts filled his mind. 

“Go on, do as you’re told, John!” Sensei Bruce’s sharp command startled him, and John almost smiled. That’s the first time he’s sounded like Mr. Tung! 

The pants were a bit too long, and the jacket felt heavy and awkward to the boy who’d trained most often without any shirt at all, but John felt his heart racing with excitement as he stepped out of the changing room and looked around, realizing that, at last, he felt like he belonged in this class. Sensei Bruce nodded his approval and called John over once again. 

“I’ve watched you practice. You’re very good. I’m awarding you a green belt, and I have no doubt if your Mr. Tung were here he’d agree with me.” 

Handing John a belt identical to Jack’s, Sensei Bruce walked him through the steps to tying it on. As John looked down and saw the stripe of green against the bright white of the uniform, he couldn’t believe it. 

“Sensei, thank you. I am honored, and I know Mr. Tung would also be honored. I promise I will work hard to pay for this, as soon as I possibly can.” 

Sensei Bruce held out his hand and shook John’s solemnly. “I believe you, John. I have every confidence you’ll keep your word.” 

Working out in his karategi for the first time was an experience John knew he would never forget. The sleeves of the jacket and the legs of the pants made a wonderful snap when he threw strikes and kicks, and he felt more a part of the class than ever before. When the time came to hang their uniforms in the changing room, Jack showed John a hook on the wall where he could hang his, and explained that they all took turns coming to the dojo on days when there were no classes to help clean the floors and uniforms. 

“You’ll be on the schedule soon, I’m sure. Sensei Bruce’ll let you know.” 

It was all so different, and yet so exciting, John couldn’t wait to explain everything to Mr. Tung. As soon as he and Jack finished their homework, John pulled out the letter he was working on and added to it. 

Today, Sensei Bruce gave me a karategi and a green belt. I have the same rank as Jack now. Did you ever have a karategi? Did you ever get a black belt? We will also spar soon. I did not know this word, but Jack said it’s what you and I did, fighting, working to make what we learn apply. I wish you could see my green belt, and my karategi. I wish my mother could see it, too. 

As John set the letter aside, he sighed deeply. He was happy here; school was going better and better, thanks to Jack and Mr. Harrow. Karate classes were something he looked forward to, and Sensei Bruce was a good teacher. Mrs. Yancey was a kind employer, and she praised John’s hard work as he cleared weeds and trimmed overgrown bushes from her yard in the afternoons. Auntie Mari and all of the family were good to him, and Adam and Annie loved any attention he gave them. 

Still, he missed home, and his mother and brothers. Sometimes he would wake up and think he was in Tulagi; at times he was sure he could hear the ocean crashing against the coral reef outside his mother’s hut. But when he opened his eyes, he was in Australia, many, many miles from home, and he would have to rise, dress for school, and continue on without his mother, or brothers, or Mr. Tung. John knew being here in Australia was the best thing for all of them, but it didn’t make missing them any easier.   

Chapter 23

“Mate, it’s bad luck for sure, but my mum says I gotta come home straightaway after school for a few weeks and help her,” Jack explained glumly. John nodded his understanding. Jack’s mother had just come home from hospital with a new baby, and Jack was needed at home to help with his brother and sister as much as possible. 

“It’s alright, Jack. You’ve helped me so much with getting used to the language and assignments, I’ll be just fine on my own. Besides, I have work for the Yanceys on days we don’t have karate class.” A thought occurred to John. 

“Hey, will you still be at karate classes these few weeks?” 

Jack scuffed the ground with his shoe. “Nope.” 

“Well then, I’ll come to your house and we can train together there. I’ll bring Adam and Annie to play with your brother and sister,” John offered. 

“Thanks mate, but my folks don’t want no one coming over, not while the baby’s new. You know how mothers are.” 

John frowned. “No, in Tulagi, this is not our custom when babies are born. The entire village comes to share food and help with household chores and whatever else is needed. Often we stay in someone’s home for days after the baby comes.” 

Jack sighed. “Well, that’d be nice about now, let me tell you. But I can’t change my folks, y’know? They don’t want anyone coming over, so that’s that.” 

Over the next week, John fell into the busy routine of going to school, studying, working for the Yanceys, and attending karate classes. The only free moments he had were after dinner, when Adam and Annie would ask him to read to them and shortly after he would fall into bed, exhausted from the day’s work. 

One afternoon as he trimmed a particularly overgrown bush for the Yanceys, John heard something rustling near the ground. He stopped and reached for a shovel, then cautiously stepped closer. He’d been warned about dangerous snakes, and had even seen a couple, but this was louder, and closer, than any he’d ever seen before. As John moved a tangle of dead branches away with the shovel, he saw the last thing he’d ever expected. 

Peter Rabbit! 

It was the first thing he thought of at the sight of the small, wide-eyed creature that was looking up at him. The rabbit was clearly terrified, and John took a step back to allow it to escape. The small animal made an attempt, but as John watched, he realized the poor thing was caught on something. Or, rather, in something, for as he squatted down and looked closer, John realized the rabbit was firmly caught in some sort of trap. 

“Hey, what happened to you?” He spoke quietly, gently, in his native language. “I’m gonna have to get you outta there, little friend.” Looking around, John tried to locate something with which he could wrap the rabbit so it wouldn’t bite him while he tried to free it. Seeing nothing, he considered asking Mrs. Yancey for an old towel or sack. He quickly disregarded that thought, though – this trap had most likely been set by Mr. Yancey for this very purpose – to keep rabbits out of his garden. 

“Looks like you’ve got caught by Mr. McGregor, just like Peter Rabbit. It’s alright, I’ll get you free. Just need to find something to wrap you in…” 

At last, John pulled his own shirt off and, clearing away the brush, prepared to free the terrified animal. 

The closer he stepped, the more scared the rabbit became, and it tried desperately to escape. John could see now that one of its hind legs was caught in the trap. Taking a deep, slow breath, John thought hard about what he would need to do. 

Always make plan, then do, if you can. Think first, do after that.

Mr. Tung’s advice hadn’t been meant for a situation like this when he’d spoken those words to his young student, but they came back to John’s mind as he squatted, shirt in hand, assessing what needed to be done. 

Quietly, gently, John spoke to the rabbit. Slowly moving, he kept speaking comforting words until he was close enough to reach out and wrap his shirt tightly around its body.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I’ve got to do something scary in order to get you free, but I promise I’ll be as careful as I can,” John explained. It seemed as though the creature understood him, for even though its eyes remained wide with fear, it did not fight him as he gently lifted it and took a good look at the trap. Tucking the rabbit under one arm, John worked on opening it. The trap was old, and rusted, and it seemed an eternity before finally the rabbit’s hind leg was freed. 

Looking closely, John could see the leg was broken. 

“Hey, I’ve got some bad news. I can’t let you go free, not just yet. You’re injured, little friend. Don’t worry though; I’ll take care of you.”

Thinking the Yanceys would not be very sympathetic to an injured rabbit, John considered where he could go to find help. Finally, he decided to take the rabbit home and find something in the shed he could keep it in while it healed. 

As he carried the rabbit home, John continued to speak in a quiet, gentle voice, telling his new friend all about life since he’d arrived in Australia. 

“It’s so different here. At home, school was challenging, but I didn’t have to worry about being sent away if I missed some answers. It’s getting easier, but English is a crazy language, y’know?” The words flowed out and John looked down at his rabbit friend. The animal’s ears flicked a few times as he spoke, and though its eyes were glossed over in pain, John could see that already they could trust each other. 

Chapter 24

As he neared his home, John realized it would be best not to show the rabbit to anyone. He was pretty sure his aunts wouldn’t mind him tending the small animal, but Uncle Tomasi had made it pretty clear his feelings about rabbits, and John knew if the little ones had any idea he had rescued ‘Peter Rabbit’, they would not be able to keep it quiet, nor leave the poor thing alone to rest and heal. Walking past his home and cutting back alongside their property to the back, John carefully stepped over the low fence that surrounded the back yard and looked towards the house. Seeing no one, he pulled open the shed door with one hand and stepped inside. 

Locating an old crate, John rummaged around for something soft he could use to make it more comfortable for his new friend. On a shelf there was a stack of old flour sacks, and he maneuvered his way around several gardening tools to reach them. Still holding the rabbit under his right arm, John stretched out his left hand for one of the sacks. As he reached, he bumped into a shovel, knocking it over and causing a loud crash that filled the shed. The rabbit jolted at the sound and kicked its good hind leg, scratching John and scrambling to get to safety. John’s heart beat rapidly and he struggled to keep hold of the rabbit as it tried to escape. Grabbing with both hands to keep his friend from falling, and also trying to be careful not to touch its injured leg, John spoke once more, keeping his voice much calmer than he felt. 

“Hey now, it’s alright, that was my fault. Nothing’s going to hurt you; just a bit of noise, that’s all. Sorry, little friend.” 

Adjusting his grip carefully, John turned back towards the crate. Slowly, gently, he set the rabbit in the crate, still holding his shirt wrapped around its body.

Turning back towards the stack of flour sacks, John carefully reached out and took one. He folded it, then placed it in the crate with his new friend.  

“I’m gonna need to go get some things to wrap your leg, but I’ll be back.” John unwrapped his shirt from around the rabbit’s body, and then ran his hand gently along its back to calm it. He was amazed at how soft its fur was. When he was confident his new friend had relaxed a bit, he looked around for something to place over the crate so the rabbit wouldn’t be able to escape while he was gone. Finally, John settled for a few boards that were stacked near the doorway. He laid them across the top of the crate, and then crouched down so he could look at the rabbit through the slats on the side. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t worry.” 

In the house, John was able to find some scraps of fabric, and Auntie Rosi just laughed when he asked if he could have them. 

“You go ahead, Johnny. You children are always making something, aren’t you?” 

He was thankful she didn’t even comment that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. With the heat, it wasn’t uncommon.

Making his way back to the shed, John found several small sticks and gathered them, keeping the three straightest. 

The rabbit was still in the crate, and John breathed a sigh of relief as he removed the boards he’d used as a cover. 

Lifting the rabbit carefully, once again John spoke quiet, soothing words, doing his best to calm the scared, injured animal. Sitting on the floor, John positioned himself near the open door so he could see what he was doing in the sunlight and set his new friend gently in his lap. Working as efficiently as possible, John did his best to splint the rabbit’s broken leg. Together, he and his furry friend fought through the pain, and, at last, John tied the final piece of fabric firmly in place. He took a deep breath and observed his work. The sticks seemed to be holding the bone in place, and he’d ripped the fabric into strips, which he’d wound around the leg and sticks to secure them. 

“Well, that’s done. You are very brave, Rabbit.” John set the rabbit down on the floor of the shed, observing as his friend took several small, awkward steps towards the door. The splint was holding, but it would be some time before this rabbit would be able to hop. 

Sitting back, John stretched a bit, realizing how tense he’d been while holding the rabbit and working to set the splint. 

His long-eared friend cautiously explored the small area near the door of the shed as John sat and watched him. It was only a few minutes later he heard his aunt call out from the porch that dinner was ready. 

Scooping up the rabbit, John carefully returned it to the crate, and, promising to bring some food and water later, he replaced the boards, positioning the crate so the rabbit wouldn’t be seen by anyone who might come into the shed. 

Chapter 25

From his observations of the children’s books he’d read to Adam and Annie, John knew rabbits ate vegetables, and this presented a problem. He wanted to keep the rabbit a secret, as he knew there was a good chance his family wouldn’t let him keep it if they knew. However, he refused to steal food to feed it. Looking out his window as he contemplated this problem, John spotted Auntie Rosi, watering the kitchen garden. Of course! The garden was large, and everyone in the household helped maintain it. Thinking only for a moment more, he knew what he could do. Running back outside, John volunteered to weed and thin the rows of various leafy greens for her. Auntie Rosi hugged him in response. 

“Ah, Johnny, you are a kind, wonderful boy. Your back doesn’t ache like mine does! I would be so thankful if you did that work for me,” she said, smiling. 

John gave her a small smile in return. “It’s no trouble, Auntie. I helped work in the garden at home. We grew some different things there, but a garden is a garden, I think I can keep straight which is a weed and which is a useful plant.” 

“Different, yes. Oh, I so miss the taro that grows on Tulagi! I would make you a pudding better than any you’ve ever had, if I could.” 

John grinned and nodded his agreement. “I know. I miss much of the food my mother cooked.” 

Auntie Rosi put her arm around his shoulders and hugged him close. “I know you miss your home, Johnny. And your mother. We are so grateful you came to us, but it is hard, when you are so young. I know this.”

John took a deep breath and looked away. During the busy days, often he was able to ignore the homesickness of being so far away from everything he’d ever known. He truly was enjoying his life in Australia, especially karate classes, and now caring for the rabbit. But he missed his family, and Mr. Tung, and being surrounded by familiar sights and smells. 

Taking a deep breath, John forced a smile for Auntie Rosi. 

“It’s okay. You have all been more than kind to me. When I graduate from school, I will return home.” 

John forced himself not to think about the fact that it would be another four years before he graduated. Pointing to the garden, he squared his shoulders. 

“I’d better get to work on those rows.” Auntie Rosi went inside, and John got to work. He had actually always enjoyed working in the garden. Something about helping things grow, and caring for them as they grew from tiny seeds to large, strong plants gave him a satisfied, happy feeling inside. 

Half an hour later, John gathered the pile of weeds and greens he’d pulled from between the stronger, healthier plants, and carried it to the shed. Taking his rabbit friend out of the crate, John set the large pile in front of him. 

“It’s a bunch of different things, you eat what looks good to you, and I’ll bring more tomorrow,” John said as the rabbit’s nose twitched and it inspected the pile. As the rabbit happily began to eat its dinner, John sat back and told his new friend all about his mother and brothers. Somehow, being able to talk freely about them helped, and when John returned the rabbit to its crate, he squatted down and smiled. 

“Thank you, my friend. You are a great listener.”

One week after he’d rescued the rabbit, John began carrying it outside. He’d realized that if he sat behind the shed, no one could see them from the house, and he could give his friend a chance to be outdoors for a bit every day. The first few days, the rabbit had only ventured a few awkward steps away from him, pulling its broken leg along as it walked. As time went on and its leg was healing, however, his furry friend began to explore further. John watched carefully, observing how the rabbit’s nose twitched and its ears flicked, clearly picking up on sounds he wasn’t aware of. Suddenly, for the first time since he’d rescued it, his furry friend hopped! Or, more accurately, it hopped with its good leg and threw out its splinted leg to the side awkwardly. 

Looks almost like a side kick! John thought to himself, grinning a bit. 

Hop, kick. Hop, kick. Hop, kick.

John had never named an animal before, but as he watched the rabbit, suddenly he knew the perfect name for him. 

“I think you should be called Hopkick, my friend. Even though you are only a rabbit, you also know martial arts!” John chuckled at his own joke, and the rabbit twitched its nose, seeming to approve. 

John spent another few minutes watching Hopkick hop-and-kick his way around the grass, stopping every few hops to nibble some vegetation he found. 

“Alright, I need to get back to my schoolwork. Let’s get you back to your crate, Hopkick. I’ll come later and bring you some dinner.” 

Later, after John had finished his schoolwork and given Hopkick his dinner, he stretched and went through his forms. Sensei Bruce had taught John several new forms, and he was working hard to keep strong in what Mr. Tung had taught him as well. As John worked his way through a set of techniques, he concentrated on the distribution of his weight, and stretched forward into a wide, low stance. Sensei Bruce taught much higher stances than Mr. Tung, and John wanted to make sure he didn’t forget any of the things he’d learned before coming to Australia. Focusing on shifting his weight at the appropriate times, John worked his way through the form. In this form, there were several jumps. He remembered asking Mr. Tung the purpose of these, and a glimmer of a smile came to his eyes as he remembered the answer. 

Jump not important. Learn to land correctly important. 

Landing correctly, balanced and ready to move to the next technique, was a skill that required much practice. As John worked, he did his best to land exactly the way Mr. Tung had taught him. 

At last, John bowed. As he raised his eyes and stood, he heard clapping from the porch, and looked over in surprise. 

Chapter 26

“Well done, mate! Looks like I’m outta practice, and you’re better than ever.” 

It was Jack! John smiled as his friend jumped off the porch and came over to him. 

“Jack! How’ve you been?” 

Jack grinned and shook John’s hand. 

“Better, now that I get to leave the house! Been busy, but the baby’s alright, he doesn’t cry as much as Timmy did when he was that size,” he chuckled. 

John glanced towards the shed, quickly making a decision. 

“Hey, come with me, there’s something I wanna show you,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the shed. 

Jack raised his eyebrows in curiosity and followed John.

“Look, I haven’t shown or told anyone about this, so keep it quiet, alright?” 

Jack was now very curious, and used his index finger to cross his heart. 

John looked at him, puzzled. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Cross my heart. Means I won’t tell. It’s a way to promise something, that’s all.” 

John had never heard of this before, and Jack laughed at his puzzled expression. 

“C’mon, mate, honest I won’t tell nobody. Open the door.” 

“Hold on, it’s pretty stuffy in there. Go around the back of the shed, I’ll bring it outside.” 

Jack shrugged and did as John asked. In a moment, John came around the corner, carrying the rabbit. Jack’s mouth dropped open in surprise. 

“You’ve got a rabbit?” 

John nodded and set the rabbit down on the ground, squatting beside it. 

“His foot was caught in a trap, at Mrs. Yancey’s. I found him and rescued him.” 

“Did you splint his leg like that?” Jack asked as the rabbit hop-kicked his way a few feet from them and began nibbling on some grass. 

“Yep. I named him Hopkick. Can you tell why?” John asked with a small grin. 

“Ha! He does look like he’s kicking when he hops. You’re a clever one, John. Hopkick. Pleased to know ya, Hopkick!” Jack laughed. 

“Does your family know about him?” 

John shook his head. “No. I thought, the way people around here feel about rabbits, it was probably best not to show them. Besides, in another few days I think he’ll be strong enough to take the splint off, and then as long as he’s able to hop well enough, he’ll be ready to let go,” he explained. 

“You mean you’re not gonna keep him?” Jack asked. 

“No. He needs to be free. He was wild when I found him; I’m just helping while he can’t take care of himself.” 

John had considered trying to keep his friend as a pet, but as much as he enjoyed the rabbit’s company, he knew Hopkick would be much happier roaming free. 

“I see. Well, thanks for showing me anyway. I’m glad you saw fit to help him, even if he is a rabbit,” Jack said with a rather sarcastic grin. 

The boys sat, watching Hopkick and talking about what Jack had missed in karate classes for a bit longer. After returning the rabbit to his crate, the boys spent a few minutes sparring – something Jack had missed very much. He’d tried to keep up with his personal training at home, inspired by the dedication John showed to his training every day, even those with no karate classes.

“You’re getting better,” John said as he rested his hands on his knees after a few moments of sparring with his friend. 

“Thanks, it’s funny, all I’ve been doing is going through forms at home when my sister’s napping, but I think it’s helping,” Jack answered as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. 

John nodded. “Every part of practice helps with every other part, they are all connected.” 

Jack nodded and chuckled. “You sound like Sensei Bruce, mate.” 

Together, the boys went through several forms before Jack announced he had to be getting home. 

“See ya tomorrow! I can’t tell you how excited I am to be going to the dojo again!” 

As Jack left, John waved, then returned to check on Hopkick once more. 

That night, John started a new letter to Mr. Tung. He’d sent three in the time he’d lived in Australia, and twice that many to his mother and brothers.  

Mr. Tung,

I have been training every day. The language is much easier to understand now, so I am able to spend less time on my homework and studying. But don’t worry! I am still working hard at my studies. 

Do you know what rabbits are? Do they have rabbits in China? I rescued one. He was injured, but he will be strong enough to release soon. His leg was broken, and when he hops, he kicks one leg to the side. It looks like he is kicking, so I named him Hopkick. Even my rabbit knows martial arts!

The day had come for John to release Hopkick. He had taken the splint off, and felt carefully along the rabbit’s leg and foot. The bone seemed solid, and when he allowed Hopkick to explore behind the shed, the rabbit had taken several steps, stretched his legs out as though he had been waiting to do so, and then hopped – with both feet – several feet away from John. For a second, John thought perhaps Hopkick would take off running and be gone that day, but he seemed to be waiting, looking to John as if to see if it would be alright. 

That had been yesterday. John realized he’d become closer to the rabbit than he had thought; though he had planned all along to release Hopkick into the wild once he was healed, now John felt a pain in his heart he hadn’t expected. 

Sitting with the rabbit in his lap, John stroked the soft fur on Hopkick’s back and spoke quietly. 

“I know it’s best to let you go. Life in that crate is no life for a creature like you, now that you’re all healed up. But I really will miss you. You’ve been a good friend, Hopkick. I won’t forget you, not ever.” 

Picking Hopkick up, John stepped over the fence and walked away from his aunt’s yard. There was a decent amount of brush and wild land about a half a mile from their property, and John knew this would be the safest place for the rabbit – away from yards and traps and people with gardens. 

Setting the rabbit down at the edge of the thick brush, John squatted down behind it. 

“Go on, be free. Stay out of the city, alright? I’ll…I’ll miss you.” 

As John spoke the words, Hopkick’s nose twitched, his ears flicked, and he took a few small hops towards the brush. He stopped for a moment, and then, as though he had understood John’s words, he took off, disappearing into the thick brush. 

John stayed there a moment longer, staring at the spot where Hopkick had disappeared. 

“Goodbye, my friend,” he said at last, standing and turning to leave. 

Chapter 27

Sweat dripped down John’s forehead and stung his eyes as he watched the movements of his opponent and carefully matched them with his own. As the other teen circled, John turned with him, hands up in front of his body, his muscles relaxed but ready to respond to any sudden movements. This fellow brown belt was quick, John knew from experience. They had trained together for over four years now, and every time they sparred, John was always challenged by this friend’s speed. Today was no exception – as Luke faked to the left, John allowed himself to shift and follow, but in the next instant was attacked on his right side. Mentally scolding himself for falling for the fake, John threw up his hands to block, wildly trying to regain control of the fight as the taller boy advanced and forced him to take a defensive stance. Ducking, John shuffled his feet and quickly moved to Luke’s left side, throwing a kick at his ribs as his opponent twisted around to keep up with him. The kick landed on its intended target, and John was quick to pull his foot back before Luke could grab it and counter-attack. Stepping out of range, John took a deep breath, mentally resetting his focus. It was only meant to be a short moment of rest, no longer than a second, but even so John found himself on the defensive yet again, as Luke exploded in with another combination of strikes before he was ready. Luke was much taller than John, or any of the other students, for that matter, and he used his reach to his advantage, often cornering them and keeping them on the defensive as they weren’t able to even reach him as he attacked.

John loved the challenge of fighting someone taller and quicker than him – it seemed every time he stepped into the ring with Luke, he learned something new. As John retreated, blocking Luke’s furiously quick combination of strikes, he braced himself. The tall brown belt loved to surprise his opponents with a sneak kick to the head while they were busy blocking his hand strikes. Seeing Luke’s knee raise out of the corner of his eye, John reached out and caught his leg before the kick had a chance to land. Stepping in quickly, John applied pressure to his opponent’s knee, twisted slightly, and the taller boy went down. Stepping back, John stood in his fighting stance, though clearly the fight was over.

“Alright, well done, both of you.” Sensei Bruce’s voice ended the match, and John stepped close, offering his hand to help Luke stand. Grinning, Luke accepted the offer, then patted John on the shoulder.

“Good fight, mate. You’re always a challenge,” he said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his karategi.

John grinned and wiped the sweat from his own face. “You are as well, I can’t believe how quick your hands are!”

That night, John sat at his desk, writing a new letter to Mr. Tung. Over the past four years, John had written many letters telling his teacher about life in Australia, and Mr. Tung had replied several times, always with sound advice. Though Sensei Bruce had taught John much, he knew he would always consider Mr. Tung his mentor, not only in martial arts but in life as well.

Dear Mr. Tung,

I cannot believe it, but I will graduate from school in less than one month. It seems like I have lived here an entire lifetime, and yet, it also seems as though only yesterday I was in Tulagi, training with you on the beach. Do you remember those days as well as I do?

I am taller now, but not much. Sensei Bruce says I am a good candidate for shodan. Do you know this word? This is what he calls a black belt – shodan. It is another Japanese word. He said it translates into English as ‘first step’. In many ways, I feel like I have already taken many steps in my martial arts journey, but maybe I am wrong – maybe I am just now learning how to step forward, and all of the training I have done has been preparing me for that first step?

I would be honored to receive a black belt. I would be even more honored if you also agreed that I deserve this honor? I know that I still have much to learn, but I also know that I would love nothing more than to continue on this martial arts journey. When I am qualified, I wish very much to teach others.

I hope to return to Tulagi this summer.

Your student,

John

As he folded the letter and slid it into an envelope, John thought about all that had been happening in his life. School had always been challenging, but he was a dedicated student, and was now preparing for graduation – something very few people from his island had even had the opportunity to do! He had also worked hard at karate, and after only two years of training with Sensei Bruce, had been awarded his brown belt. Now, at 17, John had been a brown belt for over two years, and was actually training for his black belt exam.

John remembered the first time he’d observed a black belt exam – for the better part of a day, Sensei Bruce had tested four brown belt students in many different ways. Two of them had passed, but the other two had not. John’s stomach knotted and felt nervous every time he thought of those two who hadn’t actually passed the exam. Sensei Bruce was not an overly strict instructor, nor was he cruel – but he had explained often to his students how very serious he took the training he had received in Japan, and the responsibility of training his own students to meet the standards he himself had been held to. Because of his earlier training with Mr. Tung, John had moved up much more quickly than the other students through Sensei Bruce’s ranks, but there was still much he felt he had to learn. Every sparring match, every form he performed, every set of techniques he practiced, John was known for asking what he could improve. For John, this was not only a hobby. This was something he felt with every beat of his heart. This was a way of life, and the closer he got to graduating school and earning his black belt, the more convinced he was that somehow, this was his destiny, what he was born to do.

Chapter 28

“John, would you stay for a few minutes? I’d like to talk with you,” Sensei Bruce called as John returned from changing his clothes after practice.

“Yes, sir, I’d be happy to,” John replied, placing his well-worn brown belt into his backpack with his schoolbooks. Swinging the backpack over one shoulder, John waited for Sensei Bruce to finish saying goodbye to his other students.

“John, have a seat,” Sensei Bruce pointed to the bench along one wall, and the two of them sat down as he continued.

“Have you been considering what you’d like to do after graduation? Have you looked into trade schools, or internships anywhere?”

John nodded his head and answered. “Yes, sir, I have considered many things. In Tulagi, where I come from, I may be able to work as a clerk for the police, or possibly for one of the shipping companies. My mother is inquiring about those options.”

“Have you considered staying here, in Australia?” Sensei Bruce’s question was one John had heard at least a dozen times in the past months.

“Not really. I do like it here, but I’ve always planned to return home,” John explained.

“I understand that, of course. John, I want you to think about what I’m going to say, and don’t give me an answer today. You have a gift. I’ve trained many students over the past ten years, and many of them have been wonderful martial artists. But you have something remarkable, and your dedication to perfecting your art is inspiring to many around you.”

John blushed at the praise and looked down at his sandals.

“I want to ask you to stay here and train as a sensei. When you have earned shodan, I would like you to help me teach.”

The offer was so unexpected, John looked up in shock at Sensei Bruce.

“Like I said, I don’t want an answer now. It would mean staying here in Australia, and I know that may not even be an option in your mind. But you have a gift, and I could see you running your own dojo someday, if you wanted to.”

John nodded. “I want that, more than anything, Sensei.”

Sensei Bruce patted John’s shoulder. “I have every reason to believe you shall achieve it, John. If you stay, I can tell you right now, you’ll learn more from teaching than you have ever learned as a student.”

Late that night, John lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. Many thoughts swirled around in his mind, as he contemplated what he should do. It had always been his plan to return to Tulagi, but for the first time, Sensei Bruce’s offer had completely shaken his resolve. The dream of teaching martial arts had been something that had been growing in his heart since even before he’d come to Australia. Now, being offered this position, it was as though his destiny had been laid before him. At the same time, John desperately missed his family and home. His mother had been counting the days until he would return, and he could not disappoint her! Yet how could he give up such a wonderful opportunity?

John closed his eyes and laid an arm across his face. He didn’t know what to do. As he tossed and turned, one thought kept returning to his mind, Sensei Bruce’s words.

You’ll learn more from teaching than you have ever learned as a student.

John didn’t know how that could be possible, but he wanted more than anything to understand.

“C’mon now, boys, look like black belts!” The phrase most commonly heard from Sensei Bruce these days echoed off the walls of the dojo as John focused on the punches he was throwing. Squatting into a deeper stance, John kept his gaze fixed directly in front of him and concentrated all of his strength and energy into the point of contact his punch was intended to make. Even throwing punches in the air, John knew how important it was to take every single opportunity to practice as seriously as possible.

As they transitioned from stationary practice to working on their forms, John and his three fellow brown belt students pushed themselves even harder than usual. There were only three days left before their formal black belt test, and everyone could sense the importance of this practice.

Two hours later, John and Jack changed out of their sweaty uniforms. Jack grabbed a broom and John a mop. It was their turn to clean the dojo floor, and the other two brown belts took the pile of uniforms to wash and hang to dry for their next practice.

“I can’t believe we’ve both made it this far,” Jack said as he swept the floor.

“I just want to make it through Saturday,” John responded with a grin.

“Yeah, seriously. My mum keeps talking about how proud she already is, it’ll be crazy to have her and my dad here watching. They’ve talked about nothing else for days,” Jack rambled.

John felt his throat tighten as he thought of his own mother, far away in Tulagi.

I’d give anything to have her here on Saturday!

John wanted to speak the words aloud, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good, and he also didn’t want to make Jack feel bad.

His silence spoke more than he’d intended, though, and Jack looked up from sweeping after a moment.

“Ah, mate, I’ve done it. I’m sorry. I know your mum’d be here if she could. Mr. Tung, too. I know how much she wanted to be here to see you graduate school. And turn eighteen!”

John shrugged and kept his eyes on the bucket of water he was adding soap to.

“I’ll see them later this summer,” he said, forcing a smile he didn’t feel.

Jack swept the rest of the floor in silence, not wanting to accidentally say anything else that would make his friend feel bad. John was lost in his own thoughts, and as he mopped the floor, he tried hard to be positive about his upcoming test. This year had been so full of important milestones in his life! He had graduated high school, the first in his family to do so – and he was testing for his black belt in karate, something he had dreamed of since the day he first learned what a black belt was. He had celebrated his eighteenth birthday, and his mother and brothers had sent gifts all the way from home. His aunt had given him the surprise of his life when she’d handed him the package, and later explained that his mother had sent the gifts six months in advance, to be sure they arrived in time. There were so many wonderful things to be thankful for, and John worked hard not to think about the one thing he didn’t have – his family here to celebrate all these amazing milestones with him.

Chapter 29

“It’s looking good in here, gentlemen.” Sensei Bruce called out as John and Jack finished cleaning the floors and put away the cleaning supplies.

“Thanks, Sensei. Can’t believe just a few more days ‘til Saturday!” Jack responded.

Sensei Bruce nodded. “Only one more practice before the big day. See you tomorrow,” he replied.

Jack slipped his sandals onto his feet and motioned to John, but Sensei Bruce raised one hand.

“I need to speak with John for a moment, if you don’t mind, Jack,” he said.

“Sure, I’ll head home now and you can follow when you’re through. I’ll get some sandwiches together,” Jack said to John with a grin.

John nodded and returned the smile. “That’ll be a welcome meal after the workout we just had,” he said.

Jack left, and John turned to Sensei Bruce.

“I wanted to ask you about my offer to stay here and teach. Have you thought more about it?”

John took a deep breath. He had been expecting this conversation, and was not looking forward to what he had to say.

“Sensei, I want that, more than anything. I would love to stay and train more, and also to teach. It’s what I’ve dreamed of for years. But…” John swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue.

“…I can’t stay. I made a promise to come back home, to Tulagi, and take care of my mother. I must find a job where I can take proper care of her. It’s the reason I have worked so hard to graduate. It’s the reason I came to Australia. I cannot let her down. I…I hope you understand,” he finished.

Sensei Bruce nodded. “Of course I understand, John. You are an honorable son, one any mother would be proud to have as her own. Have you not considered you might be able to make enough money to support yourself and your mother, through teaching martial arts?”

John frowned. “How, Sensei? Who would pay for karate lessons?”

Sensei Bruce pulled an envelope from his pocket and held it up. “I’m not saying you’d be rich, but I have a letter here from a friend of mine, he also studied in Japan, and now teaches in the United States. He chose to open his school to children and teenagers. Their parents pay for the lessons. He said it’s not easy, but it is possible. I just wanted you to have an idea of what possibilities are out there.”

John rubbed a bruised spot on his arm as he thought about this.

“The United States is on the other side of the world. Do you think people would pay for lessons here in Australia?”

Sensei Bruce nodded. “Yes, I think so. Especially if you were willing to teach children. I’ve never charged fees because I wanted my students to help maintain the dojo and I figured that was a decent exchange. Also, I’ve only ever brought in a handful of fellas at a time, as you know. The world is changing, though, John. People are interested in what other parts of the world have to offer now. And, as it turns out, certain parts of the world have much to offer that most here have never even seen or heard of,” he explained.

John stood silently for a moment, processing all of this.

“Look, you give it a good think. I’m willing to help you find students after you’ve helped me teach for a time. You might have to work some odd jobs in the meantime, but I believe in you, John. I think you’ve got what it takes to help martial arts reach more of the world than it ever has.”

John was overwhelmed, and he didn’t quite know how to respond. At last, he said, “Sensei, I am honored, and I want to teach more than anything. But I haven’t seen my family since I was thirteen. I…I need to go home.”

Sensei Bruce nodded his agreement. “Yes, absolutely. Go home to your island, John. But nobody said you have to stay there forever. You can go for a visit this summer, and then come back here, if you decide that is the right thing to do. I just wanted you to know this is an option I’m willing to help you pursue.” 

John sat at his desk, thinking about his latest conversation with Sensei Bruce. Yet again, he was torn between what he wanted most of all, and what he felt would be right. If he returned home only to announce to his mother that he was leaving again, would it not break her heart? He had promised to take care of her, and he was a man of his word, first and foremost. As John sat staring out the window, he wondered what advice Mr. Tung would give him. Knowing he would not receive a reply before his return to Tulagi, nevertheless John pulled out a piece of paper. Writing to Mr. Tung had always been one of the best ways to process what was happening in his life, and today John needed to get his thoughts down on paper.

Dear Mr. Tung,

I spoke with Sensei Bruce again today. He wants me to stay in Australia and teach. He thinks with more training, I could someday run my own dojo. I would love that more than anything. But, I need to come back home. I have promised, and my mother has waited more than four years for my return.

When I read her letters, I can see her tears.

What should I do? Martial arts has been the only thing I have truly wanted to do ever since I saw you and Mr. Trias that day so many years ago. Sensei Bruce says he knows someone who makes their living teaching. Can you believe that? Do you think I could do such a thing? I did not train in Japan or China, or Okinawa. Why would someone pay me to teach them martial arts?

I always thought I would return to Tulagi and work wherever my mother found a job for me. I want to honor her. She gave up so much for me to come study here, I must come back and show her how grateful I am.

I am confused, Mr. Tung. Also, I will be testing for black belt in two days. I do not know how I will do, but I hope I will make you proud. If I do not pass, I will know for certain that I am to return to Tulagi. Perhaps if I fail, you will not even want to train me anymore. I would understand.

I hope I make you proud on Saturday, even though you cannot be there.

Your student,

John

Chapter 30

Saturday morning, Auntie Rosi made a large breakfast, but John could not force himself to eat even a small portion of it. His stomach was already full – of nervous butterflies. As he walked to the dojo, John thought back on all the years of lessons that had led up to this day. From the first days of training with Mr. Tung – that ten-year-old boy, full of ambition and excitement, begging the man to teach him something – anything – and the hours of relentless practice, on his canoe, in his bedroom, outside in the pouring rain. The hikes in the jungle, the long hours practicing on the sandy beach, the many, many lessons Mr. Tung had taught him in the small courtyard outside his home. Thousands of memories of his training in Tulagi brought a warm smile to John’s face. And then, the unexpected discovery of a karate school right here, near his new home in Australia, and the warm welcome Sensei Bruce had extended to him. The friends he’d made had become more like brothers, as he attended school and lived life in a new, strange place. The dojo had been John’s home away from home in many ways. When school and life so far away from all that was familiar had been nearly unbearable, Jack, Sensei Bruce, and the others at the dojo had helped him stay strong, focused, and encouraged. Martial arts training had been so much more for John than simply learning the moves – it had been a reason to live, to do his best, to thrive.

As John walked, he realized it was exactly this reason that made him want to teach. Mr. Tung and Sensei Bruce had given John a gift. Through their patient training and instruction, John had become a better person in every aspect of life, not only martial arts. More than anything, he wanted to do the same for others.

Walking into the barn, John squared his shoulders and stood tall. This was it! This was the day he had been training for, even before he had ever heard of black belts. If he passed, today he would begin the journey towards using martial arts to make a difference in others’ lives. As he changed into his karategi and tied his brown belt tightly, John realized at last that Sensei Bruce was right – this really was the shodan – the first step towards martial arts as a way of life.

Sensei Bruce called his four brown belt students to line up in front of him. John stood tall and focused, with Jack on his right, Luke on his left, and another good friend Blake to Luke’s left. Along the wall to John’s right, a group of their fellow students had come to watch the entire exam, and they sat quietly on the long bench.

John looked over his sensei’s shoulder and saw several rows of empty chairs, which had been brought in for the spectators who would come later that day to witness the presentation of their black belts.

If we pass, John thought to himself, nervously flexing the muscles in his hands as he stood, waiting for the exam to begin.

Calling out in a loud voice, Sensei Bruce began the exam. His four students bowed, and he bowed in return. The four brown belts followed his commands and performed every technique and combination of techniques they had been taught. John ignored the sweat that tickled his back and dripped down his nose; this was what he had been training for, and he was focused, determined to perform every minute detail as flawlessly as possible.

Calling out that it was time to transition to sparring, Sensei Bruce paired his students up. As John dropped into his fighting stance, he allowed the smallest glimmer of a smile to show in his eyes. This was his favorite aspect of all their training. Being able to test his skills, timing, technique, balance, and endurance was more exciting to John than anything.

John was partnered with Jack, and as they sparred, both boys gave everything they had. It seemed an eternity before Sensei Bruce called for the partners to switch, and once John had swapped places with Blake, he dropped his hands to his knees and took a deep breath, already feeling fatigued. The call to begin again came immediately, though, and he quickly jumped back into his fighting stance. Luke was as quick as ever, and John worked hard to keep one step ahead of his tall opponent. At last Sensei Bruce called out to switch partners once more, and John found himself opposite Blake. All four students were sweaty and tired, but Sensei Bruce didn’t seem to notice, or at the very least, he didn’t seem to care. Calling out to begin once again, John and his fellow classmates sparred their third consecutive round. Blake was a very challenging opponent; his ability to spot and strike a target was lightning-fast, and though he didn’t move around as much as Luke or Jack, he was always calculating, always ready. John loved sparring all of his friends, and the different challenges each of them presented. As Blake’s foot connected with John’s ribs, he stumbled back. As usual, John hadn’t even been aware he’d opened up that area for a strike, and already the kick had landed!

“Alright gentlemen. Five minute break and then you will go through all your forms.”

Glancing at the clock, John realized it had been two hours since the test began. He laughed as Jack dropped to the floor and lay on his back, moaning.

“And to think, I begged for this!” Jack groaned from his place sprawled out on the floor.

John drank a cup of water and felt his stomach tighten. It might have been a good idea to eat some breakfast, after all! It was too late now, though. He shook his head, wiped the sweat from his face and neck, and stretched, watching his friends go through similar preparations. Jack had reluctantly stood from his place on the floor and was stretching as well.

“Think I could drink a gallon of water right now, but I know better,” Blake said, forcing himself to only sip the water he strongly desired to gulp.

“Alright, break’s over.” Sensei Bruce called, and the four students jumped up to stand in line once more.

Chapter 31

 Calling each of them in turn, Sensei Bruce watched as they performed different forms he’d taught them, beginning with the simplest and advancing through the more challenging and technical forms they’d taken hours and hours to learn and understand. As John worked his way through each form, he concentrated on doing everything exactly as Sensei Bruce had taught him. At last, when they had all finished performing their forms, they were given another break.

As John drank water, he silently wondered how much longer the test would be, and what else Sensei Bruce might have planned to challenge them with. The muscles in his arms and legs felt shaky, and he was starting to feel light-headed from having not eaten breakfast, but John had worked too hard to allow those feelings to stop him now, no matter what lay ahead.

“John!”

Hearing his name called, John looked up and saw Sensei Bruce standing in the center of the dojo floor.

“Now we will spar,” Sensei Bruce said. John took a deep breath and stepped to the middle of the ring. He loved the challenge of sparring with his sensei, as it always reminded him of the days he trained with Mr. Tung. Today, however, John felt overwhelmed – he was already exhausted from the hours of testing!

Sensei Bruce held nothing back as he sparred his students, first John, then Blake, then Luke, and finally Jack. John found himself resorting to the lower stances and quick movements Mr. Tung had always trained him in when sparring with Sensei Bruce, and today especially he did his best to dodge and step around the tall man quickly, conserving as much energy as possible.

At last, Sensei Bruce bowed.

“All four of you, sit and wait.” As they sat on the floor silently, eyes focused straight ahead, people began to enter the dojo and quietly make their way to the seats. John knew Auntie Mari would be there, as well as Adam and Annie. Auntie Rosi and Uncle Tomasi had a hard time getting around these days, so they had decided not to come. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack’s parents sit down in the front row of chairs, and Luke’s grandmother as well.

At last, Sensei Bruce walked out to the center of the dojo and faced the crowd of spectators that had gathered.

“I want to thank you all for coming today. It has been a great honor to work with these four young men over the past years, and they have all shown great dedication and passion. I’m not sure if you’re all aware, but when Jack, Luke, and Blake began their training, there were thirteen others who started with them. Out of the sixteen, only these three have remained and devoted themselves, and earned the right to be here before you today, for this great honor.”

John listened as Sensei Bruce spoke, and realized he hadn’t even considered how many students stopped training at one point or another. It was true – back when he’d moved to Australia and first joined the dojo, there had been a large group of green and brown belts training. For many different reasons, most of them no longer came to practices. Now, there was an entirely new group of white belts and green belts training, and John silently wondered how many of them would continue on to earn their black belts.

“Also here today is John Ramo (RAAMO). He joined us from Tulagi, after training with another martial artist, Mr. Tung Ghee Hsing (GEE TSING) John has shown tremendous dedication to his training, and it has been an honor to have him as a student.”

Turning around to face the four, Sensei Bruce gestured toward John.

“John, would you please show us one of the forms Mr. Tung taught you, back before coming here to Australia?”

Jumping to his feet instinctively, John felt his heart beat rapidly. He had no idea such a request would be made of him!

Stepping forward, he closed his eyes for just a moment, focusing on the task before him. As he had thousands of times before, John opened his eyes, bowed low, and began the form. As tired as he was, John pushed himself to put everything he had into the execution of his techniques. At last he bowed, signifying the end of his performance.

“Thank you, John. Well done,” Sensei Bruce said, as the group of spectators clapped enthusiastically. Stepping back quickly, John sat back down, amazed he’d been given the opportunity to perform something from his time in Tulagi.

Sensei Bruce called out to the four candidates, and all of them stood instantly. Calling Luke’s name, Sensei Bruce stepped forward, as did Luke. In Sensei Bruce’s hands was a folded black belt. Luke untied his brown belt, folded it up carefully, and laid it in Sensei Bruce’s outstretched hands. After bowing, he carefully took the black belt, turned his back, and tied it on. After tugging the knot and making sure it was secure, Luke turned back around and bowed once again to his sensei. An enthusiastic burst of applause erupted from the entire dojo, and John felt goosebumps rise on his arms. Seeing Luke step back, now wearing a black belt, was a surreal moment.

Sensei Bruce repeated the process with Blake, and then Jack. Each time the crowd applauded, and Sensei Bruce applauded right along with them.

Chapter 32

“John.”

As he stepped forward, John couldn’t believe this moment was actually here. At Sensei Bruce’s command, John untied his brown belt and folded it carefully, realizing his hands were shaking with excitement and exhaustion. As he picked up the black belt – his black belt – he turned and began tying it on. Tugging the knot tight, he took just a second to look down and take in what he saw. He was really, actually, a black belt in karate!

As John turned around to bow, he nearly fell over with shock, for there standing before him was not Sensei Bruce, but Mr. Tung! His eyes widened and he completely forgot to bow; John just stood there, staring at the man he had wished more than anything to share this day with, barely able to believe he was actually here.

With a twinkle in his eyes, Mr. Tung bowed, and John recovered enough from his shock to return it with one of his own.

“Black belt is very high honor. I agree with Sensei Bruce, you have earned it,” Mr. Tung said.

“Mr. Tung, how…?” John asked.

“Later, we speak much.” Motioning with his head towards the other three new black belts, Mr. Tung winked one eye, and John stepped back in line with his friends.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur. As they bowed, and there was more applause, all he could do was look in wonder at Mr. Tung, who stood proudly off to the side.

“It is a great honor this day to recognize these four new black belts. And it is an especially great honor to have Mr. Tung with us. Every one of these boys has family here to support them,” Sensei Bruce said, “including John. I would like to thank Mrs. Ramo (RAAMO), and Mr. Tung, for traveling all the way from the Solomon Islands to support him on this monumental day of his life.”

John looked up in shock yet again as Sensei Bruce spoke these words, and felt tears burn the corners of his eyes as he saw his mother, the person he missed most of all in the world, walking towards him from the back of the dojo. She had been here for the test! She had seen him receive his black belt! As she approached, John forgot about everything and everyone else in the room, and ran to hug her. He was surprised to realize he was now taller than her, and had to reach down to give her a hug.

“Oh, my boy, my boy, I am so proud of you!” John’s mother spoke to him in their native language and hugged him close to her heart.

“Mama.”

So much was said with just that one word, and John’s mother put her hands on both of his arms and leaned back.

“Let me look at you, John, you’ve grown into such a strong, handsome young man!”

John couldn’t stop smiling. As his mother told the story of how she had saved money to come see him, and Mr. Tung had helped her with the remaining cost of passage to Australia, it all seemed too wonderful to be true.

“I wanted to be here for your graduation from school, but I couldn’t get work off in time, and when you wrote with such excitement about this day, I knew I had to come see you be presented with this great honor if I could,” she explained.

The details of travel visas and timing and all of the particulars would be discussed at length later; for now, John was honored and so full of joy at the fact that she and Mr. Tung had both been able to make it to his black belt exam, nothing about how this all happened mattered – only that it did indeed happen.

Together with his family and Mr. Tung, John headed home, still unable to quite believe they were all together in one place. Crowding around the table, the family ate a celebration meal. John felt strength returning to his body with every bite, and he ducked his head and grinned when his aunt scolded him for not eating any breakfast on one of the most important days of his life.

“I wish I had,” he confessed.

“Well, you can just eat another plate of food now to make up for it. You are still too skinny!” Auntie Rosi teased. John’s mother sat nearby and reached over to wrap her arms around him.

“I have spent over four years waiting to hug you, my son. I have to make up for lost time,” she said as she pulled him close. John grinned.

“I missed you too, Mama. More than I can say.” 

After everyone had eaten more than they thought possible, the crowd dispersed. John approached Mr. Tung, who had moved to sit alone in the living room. He could tell his Chinese friend was feeling quite out of place, as much of the conversation around the table had not been in English.

“Mr. Tung, shall we go for a walk?” John invited, and his teacher smiled and nodded his head.

“Thank you for coming. It’s what I hoped for, and dared not dream of, more than anything,” John said.

“I come because you are more than only student, John. You always show, martial arts will be way of life for you. When you write Sensei Bruce wants to test you for shodan, I know you will earn this. When he wrote to me about it, I know I must come, if I can.”

John looked at Mr. Tung, surprised.

“Sensei Bruce wrote to you?” he asked.

Mr. Tung nodded. “He write about how hard you study, how you work to pay for karategi, and never complain. You remember what I teach, you also work hard at what he teaches.”

Chapter 33

John walked along slowly for a moment, overwhelmed by the fact that so many people had come together to support him in what he loved most of all.

“What you will do now?” Mr. Tung asked as they walked slowly past a field of horses.

“That’s what I have been trying to decide,” John began.

“I always said I would return to Tulagi, to work and care for my mother. I could find a decent job, now that I have graduated school.”

“You speak with mother about this?” Mr. Tung asked.

“No, not yet. That’s what I’ve always planned to do. But now…” John’s voice trailed off.

“Now?” Mr. Tung prompted.

“Well, Sensei Bruce offered to let me stay here and teach with him. He said he would like to help me open my own dojo, someday.”

“You would teach martial arts?”

John nodded.

“You will make good teacher,” Mr. Tung stated.

John took a deep breath. “That’s the thing, I don’t think I can stay. I mean, I want to, but I promised I would return home and take care of Mama. I don’t want her to have to work anymore, she has done so much, for so many years. I can’t stay here while she returns to work hard every day.”

Mr. Tung turned to look at him. “You need to speak with mother about this.”

“I don’t want her to think I don’t want to come back and take care of her,” John explained.

“She know you, John. She come to Australia because martial arts is important to you. You need to speak with her about this, today.”

John had forgotten how often Mr. Tung spoke in orders, and he nearly allowed himself to smile.

“Yes, sir, I will.”

“When you come to me as small boy, begging to learn martial arts, and I start to teach you, I see more than only boy with interest. You have a gift. You must learn what that means.”

“I want to, Mr. Tung, truly I do. But I still have so much I can learn, especially from you. When I come back to Tulagi, I will train with you again,” John responded.

Mr. Tung shook his head. “No, I go back to China from here. Tulagi is no longer the place for me.”

John felt like he had just been punched in the stomach.

Going back to China?

Now, returning home to work really would be like leaving martial arts behind him! It was a horrible feeling, and John looked away.

“I must return home, I have been gone too long,” Mr. Tung continued.

John nodded. Of course, Mr. Tung had every right to go home, just as John was planning for himself.

“I understand, Mr. Tung. I just…I was very much hoping to continue training with you,” John said.

“You will always continue training, no matter where you are, or who you are with. I know this for sure. You learn much without Tung already, and you will learn much more, all of life is journey of learning. I only was first step on long road.”

Though John agreed with the wisdom of Mr. Tung’s words, still he felt like all of the sudden everything was being taken away from him. He didn’t quite know how he would continue being a martial artist, if he was going to live in a place with no martial arts, and work a job that had nothing to do with martial arts. 

Later that evening, John sat with his mother on the covered porch, watching the sunset.

“It is strange to see the sun set over land, instead of the ocean,” his mother said in wonder.

“Yes, I agree. When I first moved here, I missed the ocean very much. It is not far away, but far enough that you can’t see it from here,” John said.

“That seems too far,” his mother responded.

John nodded. “Yes. It is a different world here. Everything is different.”

“John, I know we have spoken much about returning home. I know you miss it very much,” his mother began.

“Mostly Mama, I missed you, not so much the island,” John said.

“And I you, my son. You have made me so proud. Did you know both of your brothers are working now? They started their own fishing business, and it is doing well. All three of you always loved to be in the water, I remember your days and days of swimming as though it was yesterday! Joe and George have also grown up into strong, fine young men. I am proud of all of my sons,” she smiled.

“I miss them, too, and I can’t imagine George being old enough to run a business,” John chuckled.

“He is tall! And strong, like you. Both of your brothers are able to take care of themselves now.”

John looked at her curiously, and she continued.

“You have lived here with Auntie Rosi and Uncle Tomasi for years now, you know how weak they are getting in their old age. Mari has asked me to come live here and help care for them.”

John could hardly believe what he’d just heard.

“Will you?” he asked.

“I think I would like that very much. I am very tired of working so many hours on the plantation, and this way, I can spend time with my scholar son, when he is not teaching his martial arts,” she said with a smile.

John stared at her, shocked.

“Teaching…martial arts? Mama, how did you know…?”

His mother patted his knee as she responded. “Your teacher, Mr. Bruce, he spoke with me about this, about your passion and desire to continue studying. Mr. Tung also told me how important this is to you. I have always hoped you would find your passion and follow it. I want the same for your brothers. They are happy in their fishing business, they spend their days doing what they love. I want the same for you. So, my black belt son. You will teach martial arts – and I will always support you, wherever your journey takes you.”

John hugged his mother tightly. She had just given him a gift that felt, in a way, even more precious than the black belt he’d earned earlier that day.

Chapter 34

Early the next morning, John walked to the dojo. Sensei Bruce was eating breakfast in his kitchen when John walked up, and he invited his young student inside.

“Сup of tea, John?” Sensei Bruce offered.

John nodded. “Yes, sir, that’d be great, thank you.”

Pouring two cups of tea, Sensei Bruce returned to the small table where John had taken a seat and sat opposite him.

“Now, what is it that brings you here first thing in the morning?”

John wrapped his hands around the cup and took a deep breath.

“Well, I spoke with Mr. Tung, and also with my mother last night. It turns out my mother will be moving to Australia, to help care for my relatives. Mr. Tung is returning to China, and I…well, I would very much like to take you up on your offer to learn how to teach.”

Sensei Bruce smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

“That’s excellent news, John! I’d be honored. I meant what I said, you really are a very special young man. I’ve no doubt you’ll be running your own dojo one of these days, and sooner than you might think. There are so many options all around the world; who knows where you’ll end up!”

“It is an honor, sir. I think I am beginning to understand why black belt is called shodan. I feel like my martial arts journey is just beginning,” John replied.

“And so it is, so it is. I look forward to working with you, and I know you’ll take every step of learning to teach seriously, as you’ve always done. If you need anything, anything at all, you know not to hesitate to ask,” Sensei Bruce said.

“Thank you, Sensei. I truly appreciate it. I can’t quite believe all that has happened in the past twenty-four hours.”

Sensei Bruce chuckled. “You have had a very full day, to be sure. Go home, son. Spend time with Mr. Tung and your mother. When you come to classes this week, you’ll begin your training as an assistant to me, and before long, we’ll find you some students of your very own. The best way to learn is to jump in and begin working, which you’ve always been good at.”

John grinned. “I already have one student who has been waiting years for me to begin teaching, sir. My cousin Adam will be very excited to know I can finally teach him karate. When I first came from Tulagi, I promised I would teach him when I could.”

Sensei Bruce chuckled. “Leave it to you, John, to make your cousin wait until you earned shodan to teach him anything.”

John looked at him curiously. “I was not qualified to teach anything before now,” he said.

“John, your integrity is something I have always admired. Tell your cousin he is welcome to begin classes, and you shall be his teacher.” Sensei Bruce said with a smile.

As John walked home, he couldn’t quite believe all that had happened in such a short time. Everything he had been afraid of losing had been given back to him in such a perfectly beautiful way! Now, he was going to be teaching martial arts. The next time he stepped into the dojo, he would be tying on his black belt, not only to train, but also to lead. It made him nervous, excited, and determined all at the same time. This was his destiny. This was what he had spent all those hours of training for. Somehow, John knew this was the only thing he could ever really be happy doing. And he was grateful, so incredibly grateful, that he had been given the opportunity to do it.

To be continued…