I could change my mind.
Between Brian pushing me—out of a kind of desperation at seeing me so lost—and my own niggling guilt that I’d told Jo I would show up, I actually went. I was a little late when I showed up. I’m almost never late, but I knew I was dragging my feet and why. Maybe they wouldn’t ask me, but I would tell them all what happened the night that Nolan got shot, just once. Then the telephone game that was rumor would take the story, but at least they would have heard it from the source, just once. So while I wasn’t eager to push myself, it was possible they had news of how Nolan was doing.
By the time I made it down the hall, I could hear them warming up. Someone brought in a radio, which was a good idea; Nolan never let us have a radio, but it would be a good distraction and might improve morale. As I drew nearer, I could hear feet pounding mats as people warmed up. I stopped at the doorway, to see what was going on, and my jaw dropped. Then my workout bag hit the floor. In the middle of the sweating ring of students, puffing their way through what looked to be about six hundred jumping jacks, was the golden, the demigodling Mr. Temple.
My heart leapt, even as I gaped.
“Ah, g’day, Daniel-san! I was wondering whether you were going to join us at all. Don’t stand there playing the diva, no one’s going to roll the red carpet out for you here. In fact, since you’re so sloppy as to miss nearly three minutes of my excellent warm-up exercises, you may give me thirty and thirty, if you’d be so kind.”
Whatever else I might feel that I’d brought on the class, there was no denying that Mr. Temple seemed to lay it on just a bit thicker because I was there, his special pet. He kept announcing that he’d begun to put me on the right track, and so I would set an example for the rest of the class. He pushed us hard, and I got a couple of dirty looks, but he pushed me hardest of all, in the capacity of exemplar.
For the rest of the class, we were all on the verge of collapse. Despite that, some of the guys, and Johanna, looked like they’d just discovered their new hero. Surprisingly, Temple stopped the class early, within ten minutes of when we would usually let out.
I didn’t dare look at the clock to confirm this anomaly, already having given Mr. Temple too many of the “juiciest” when I’d fallen behind. I couldn’t wring anything else out of my poor, beaten body. It was almost as if he had something against me, and I almost thanked him for it: It was the first time I hadn’t thought about my problems in ages. Something tore in my shoulder, once, when he threw me, but I was so pumped with adrenaline that I didn’t feel it fully until we’d stopped.
“Now, I will repeat what I said at the beginning of class for the benefit of stragglers, layabouts, and our diva, Daniel-San, over there. I will be standing in for Nolan while he is recuperating. I do not say substitute, nor do I intend to replace him, as I know the old bastard, while giving the due respect to a great warrior and brother-in-arms, is milking his recovery for all it is worth, pinching the nurses, demanding sponge baths, and stealing extra pudding.”
I could see nothing to joke about and I found my anger rising. At the same time, I marveled at how quickly Temple had gotten here, and he’d left his family and classes behind in what must have been the wink of an eye to do it. That got him something, in my books. I was thankful as hell that he was here, but not if he kept teasing about Nolan.
“With that in mind, I will take the opportunity to mold you in my own shining image. I will work you hard and you will be piteously grateful, giving me all you have in return. You will leave it all on the mat, and if I suspect that you are holding out on me, I will make sure it is the second thing I report to Nolan. The first being that I will tell him that I have taken the liberty of upgrading his cable television