of Scarface lingo. Maple flashed Poe a one-down, two-to-go look as she handed Jim into the waiting arms of a medic.
Beet-faced and pacing, Poe smoothed back the long strands that escaped her ponytail. For some annoying reason, her sweat glands set their headquarters on the tip of her nose. She wiped the offending droplets with her lucky Pixies shirt, her mother’s favorite band.
A burly man named Biff with long sideburns stepped on the mat. Poe urgently wanted a break.
147
Rono/That Which Bites
Didn’t boxers get five-minute rests? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
She snapped the many black rubber bands on her left wrist until the pain reminded her that it could be worse. Poe reluctantly stepped up to join Biff. Better get used to something harder than a thwack on your arm, Poe thought bleakly.
“Your dirty tricks ain’t gonna work on me, missy,” he drawled. “I learned from the same instructor as Elvis. You do know who the King is, don’t cha?”
Biff threw out, disgusted at the girl’s lack of honor.
“Um, sure. Elvis of Clam Bake and Kissin’
Cousins fame. King of cheese and swampy movies.”
She let the number one fan have it. “Oh yeah, he was into karate-choppin’ and sequined jumpsuits, too.”
Ticked off, the yoked man kicked at her bad leg, causing her to fall on one knee. “Never insult the King!”
I hate this guy, she thought. C’mon, Master Lee.
Give me a sign! While she waited for inspiration from the Master, Poe stood up and blocked each kick with her left leg, positioned Thai boxing style. An elbow blocked each punch. Evidently she had not developed sufficient calluses on her leg bones and elbows. Lightly kicking a baseball bat while watching movies or reading books and chewing old gum wasn’t sufficient training.
Each massive block caused her to clamp her teeth shut from pain. His bones were definitely gargantuan compared to hers. Finally the Master spoke, just in the nick of time.
Lesson A, Tape 2: Playing with Human Instinct stole into her mind.
“Thank you, Master Lee,” she murmured, parrying Biff’s punch and lashing at his ankle with a kick.
148
Rono/That Which Bites
The burly man deflected the blow with his massive arm. Poe targeted his ankle again with her foot but was blocked by a knee. The third time, she kicked toward Biff’s ankle, but she aborted the move midway and hit Elvis #2 with a jarring right to the face. Faked out! The shit really works!
Red and furious, Biff ran at her. He succeeded in grabbing the scrambling Poe from behind. He lifted her off the floor, her legs dangling uselessly. JKD move number 23: Do whatever the hell it takes!
“Um, there’s something about you, Biff,” Poe said with difficulty. “Being this close to you makes me realize that you smell rancid.” She pried off a finger digging on a rib and snapped it back, breaking the digit with a pop. Biff immediately let go, falling on his knees and yelling profanity Poe had never heard before.
To shut him up, Poe released a high kick squarely in Biff’s mouth, making him keel over and swallow a tooth. Once on the floor, Poe grabbed his thinning hair and rammed his already bloody face on the mat over and over until she was again dragged to the sideline.
She cussed at the semi-conscious Biff who was having difficulty breathing from the blood oozing out of his broken nose. “And a blue aloha to you, too, fucker!”
“I thought you said she was no contest,” the blubbering man, spitting out blood and teeth said accusingly at Joseph as he was escorted from the mat.
For the first time, Poe noticed the shocked faces of the humans in the gym. Some of the bolder vampires acknowledged her with a nod, and a few didn’t even want to make eye contact.
A second after the blood and teeth were wiped from the practice mat, the last sparring partner cartwheeled onto the mat in unbelievable speed, drawing applause. Poe felt a thrill of apprehension. She 149
Rono/That Which Bites
didn’t know shit about Capoeira, the Brazilian martial arts that stocked a lot of dance and twirl movement.
Miserable Mission Impossible with Tom Cruise.
That’s what I get? Poe thought, searching for a useful defense maneuver.
“It’s an embarrassing form of martial arts,” Goss once said, shaking his head. “You don’t need to learn that crap because it leaves you wide open. You don’t want a ballet recital anyway, kid. You want something ugly and rough that will hurt your enemy something fierce.”
But something was off about the man called Rufus, and