Chapter 7: Second Lesson

It was Friday and it was not TGIF for me.

‘Meet me at Harrison’s park. A guy will fetch you after school. His name is Collins.’

A text message from my dad as I finished my last subject for the day. Harrison Park was a few miles away from our house. I needed to commute just to go to that place. I texted my mother for permission and she permitted me without further queries. My mum approved of me spending time with dad.

Students hurried out of the room as the bell rang. It was a glorious sound if heard at the last period of the day. My classmates chattered about spending the weekend at Cups and Saucers, a small drinking pub walking distance from school. Students with money frequented that place and the place served as a venue to meet other schoolmates from other courses. Carla and Bert wanted me to go with them to gobble burgers at Burger Joint, our go-to place on Fridays. My reason was fixed not to join them for I must spend time with my dad tonight, an endeavor that would please my mum. Carla and Bert were a few steps behind my back persistently inviting me to go with them as we strode towards the school grounds. I just shrugged and went on.

As I stepped out from the school’s gate, a Black Range Rover parked at the curb with blinkers on. The driver went out in a black suit. He was prim and intimidating for a guy my age. I just stared at the guy but he smiled at me and waved his hand.

Unexpectedly, he called out my name, “Mr. Luke Mason!” Bert and Carla stood beside me as we all watch the man, smiling. With incoherence, I smiled back and waved faintly, and forcibly struck a smile at him.

“Who’s that?” Bert asked still staring at the man with a perturbed expression on his face.

I shrugged and did not answer.

“Is that your father? He’s hot.” Carla was curious.

“Stop it, Carla!” I said.

The man came close to us and said, “I was sent by your father. I am Collins, your father’s chauffeur.”

We were all speechless and reluctant at first but eventually, I went inside the car leaving Carla and Bert behind. I glanced at them through a medium tinted window just as the car accelerated, and saw Carla waved at me.

I just sat there silent at the passenger back seat and Collins struck an opening conversation, “How’s school?” His voice was gentle and friendly. I suddenly sensed comfort with his approach.

“Ahm. It’s the same.” Ending my statement curtly.

“I heard your father told me that you’re bullied at school.” I saw him glanced at me alternately by the rear mirror. Our gaze met and his eyes displayed pity. I saw that he hovered his eyes to my necklace that hid behind my shirt and he smiled. Recognizing my necklace, I thought he was one of the witch hunters.

“How did he know that?” Now, my utmost attention was at Collins waiting for him to answer.

“I think your father will explain it all to you, tonight.” Questions flooded my mind but I reserved them all for my father.

I sighed and the excitement grew at that moment. There was a moment of silence and shifted my view to the mixture of beauty and disorderliness of the City. I saw a lot of people now populated the streets waiting for the bus again. I saw other students walked along the sidewalks. I suddenly saw myself on those students’ shoes walking as our car passed by.

‘So, this is the feeling of having a car.’ A rare experience that made me smile and apprehensive at the same time. A sudden feeling of worry and hopelessness invaded my thoughts as I picture other unprivileged students walking and waiting for the buses for their ride home.

Now the scenery turned serene as we passed the heart of the City and into the outskirts. The orange hue that strewn across the clouds that I sometimes loathed, dimmed as the sun rest below the horizon, covered by the silhouette hills. Chills felt on my skin for the excitement of a new life that I would embark on.

 Collins halted the vehicle as we arrived at the area. We both went outside the car and the cold and fresh breeze caressed my face. Harrison Park was situated on top of a hill and overlooking the City. The place was strewn with ornamental trees spaced almost equally and covered with well-maintained Zoysia grass. Benches were situated all around the park and only a few people were present at that time. Others jog around, others just loitered, facing the vastness of the City while others were intimately talking.

At a distance, a silhouette of a man stood at the center of the open space. Collins smiled at me and signaled me to go over there. I took hesitant steps as it was obvious with my body language and glanced back at Collins who just leaned against the car’s door. I was not happy to see my father but excited about what he can offer in this wretched and monotonous life.

As I was nearing him, he wore jogging pants and an athletic shirt. He struck a smile and said, “I see you already wearing the Moonstone pendant.”

“Yeah, I just gave it a try.”

“Then, do you experience anything strange while wearing it?”

“Nah, just…” I stopped and suddenly remembered during my Engineering Materials subject that a strange incident happened that only I had witnessed.

“Oh, I saw floating lines of different colors in the air.”

“Really? In your classroom?” He asked, still maintained his smile. I missed the way he smiled like appearing to be proud of me.

“Yeah. I felt strange though,” Recalling the details of the incident. “I felt heavy and uncomfortable.”

“So, there was a witch inside your room.” He concluded.

“Really, among my classmates?” I scratched my head, unbelievable to have a classmate that could conjure black magic. I deduced that Mr. Williams was not a suspect for he was overwhelmed with chalk in his eyes while the colored lines appeared.

“Wearing that pendant would sense a witch that uses her power at that exact moment.” Her face turned to concern. “At that moment, you felt the itch to find that magic-user. An itch to eliminate him or her. Have you identified the witch?”

“No. The lines just vanished into thin air. Am I supposed to identify the witch?”

“With the moonstone on your neck, you can identify the magic user when she used his powers. It was your first time son to have experienced it and you are not yet ready to control that power.” He chuckled then he continued, “You are lucky, I am here to teach you how to control that.” He bent and grabbed stuff inside his duffel bag laid on the ground. He took out two pairs of grappling gloves used in MMA fighters. “But first, we have to limber up.” He lifted the gloves and showed them to me.

Never in my life have worn grappler gloves or even boxing gloves. I was not the athletic type and I am easily hurt. My pain threshold was so low that even a prick of a needle would almost make me cry.

He threw the gloves to my chest, caught them with both hands and made me shuddered a step back.

“Hmm. Your stance is weak.” He said as he wore the gloves. I wore mine too and now I felt fear as I pictured myself beaten by my father’s attacks. I anticipated the pain that would strike my feeble body.

“We need to work out with your stance and your legs, son. I think they are weak for now.” He separated his legs with his left foot forward and his arms raised. “Now, do this.” He referred to his stance.

I did the same but with difficulty and felt awkward just by doing the pose. My dad smirked at the sight.

“Now attack me!” He demanded. His voice echoed throughout the park.

“But how?” I asked, now trembling.

“Use your instincts, son. Hit me.”

I meekly lunged towards him and threw an awkward haymaker to his face. He immediately evaded the shot with little effort and I caught only air and stumbled in the process as he tripped my foot that I used to leverage the attack.

I dropped and my cheeks kissed the ground.

“Get up, son.” He demanded again, without empathy in his voice.

I pushed myself up and panted heavily, back to my stance again. With a blink of an eye, my father lunged towards me and delivered a quick jab to my gut. It was so fast that I did not manage to even block it and clenched my stomach with both hands. My face grimaced with waves of pain and knelt to the ground, emaciated.

“Get up, son.”

I shook the pain off and get up again back to my stance. It was almost an hour that we sparred and every time I knocked myself to the ground countless times, my pain threshold seemed to increase. I felt no pain at that moment as I felt adrenaline rushed my veins. My focus now was to land a punch at him, but I failed for various attempts.

My dad knew that I was done as I laid on the ground, groaning. I needed air to fuel my lungs, my body was failing me and now pain appeared gradually that loomed almost all parts of my body.

He offered a hand as I stood up. He said, “That’s all for today son.” I sighed in relief. He mused as he took my gloves out from my hands, “Even though you haven’t landed a punch on me but your stance improved. You will get used to the pain, eventually. I only delivered non-leathal attacks to you, son, so the pain would not last long.”

‘He said non-lethal attacks but I was at the brink of dying.’