What struck Lois was how utterly calm Clark looked. Anyone else in her acquaintance would have at least looked concerned that six burly football players were threatening to beat him into a pulp, but Clark didn’t look worried at all.
“There’s no need for any of this,” Clark said. “I’ll be happy to walk away.”
Tom Church grinned, his expression nasty. “You won’t be doing any walking after this. Crawling, maybe, if you’re lucky.”
Clark sighed and said, “Which hand?”
“What?” The expression of confusion on Tom’s face was matched by the expressions on the faces of the other players.
“Which hand do you want me to break?” Clark asked. “I wasn’t paying attention to which hand you use on the field.”
Tom’s face twisted and he lunged at Clark.
Clark appeared to barely move, but somehow Tom missed.
One of the guys behind Clark lunged at him. Clark stepped to the side and the player plowed into Tom Church, who fell to the ground, cursing.
The running back grabbed for Clark, who did something Lois couldn’t see. A moment later the player was screaming. The rest of the team froze. Somehow, Clark had the player’s right hand twisted backward at a painful angle.
“What happens to the team if the running back is out with broken fingers or a broken wrist??” Clark asked, tightening his grip on the player’s hand. The player yelled.
Another player tried to grab Clark, but somehow Clark tripped him, and the player landed in the dirt. Clark didn’t let go of the player’s hand.
“Right now, we haven’t really gotten into a fight,” Clark said, ducking slightly to avoid a punch from the player whose hand he held. “Maybe the six of you might get lucky, get a few punches in.”
He ducked, pulling the player down with him as a punch passed over his head. The player behind him tripped over him and fell to the ground on top of the player already on the dirt.
“But it’s really easy to get hurt in a way that means you won’t ever play football again,” Clark said. ”And maybe losing one of you might not ruin the team’s chances for a championship, but what happens when two or three of you are in the hospital? Can the team do it without you?”
He let go of the player’s hand, and the player backed away from him slowly.
“What kind of freak are you?” Tom Church snarled as he pulled away from the other players.
Lois could see that the other players had lost a lot of their enthusiasm for the fight, but Tom was only more enraged.
“Did you ever hear of Aikido?” Clark asked.
At the blank look on Tom’s face, he said, “It’s kind of like Kung Fu, with less punching and yelling.”
Tom charged at him, his arms spread wide in his patented tackle position. Clark sighed, and a moment later Tom was flying through the air.
A moment later Clark was on top of him, one hand on Tom’s chest. Tom snarled again and tried to get up, but Clark didn’t budge.
A look of fear crossed Tom’s face.
“If I let you up are you going to attack me again?”
Tom tried to spit at Clark, who pressed down slightly. Tom shook his head with a look of pain on his face.
Clark stood up easily, pulling Tom to his feet. He clapped the football player on the back, and Tom staggered forward, looking as though he’d had the wind knocked out of him.
“As far as I’m concerned, there was no fight here,” Clark said. “Tom tripped and I helped him up.”
The running back was still staring at his fingers. He muttered something to the others, who stared sullenly at the ground as they got to their feet. The momentum they had been building up, working themselves up to attacking Clark was broken.
Only Tom still had a look of hatred on his face. He turned to the crowd of onlookers, who were muttering. “What are you all looking at? There’s nothing to see here!”
Clark stepped through the crowd, who parted hurriedly in front of him.
“This won’t be the end of it,” he said under his breath as he came up beside her, his face outwardly calm. As soon as they were pas t the crowd, he grimaced. He muttered, almost inaudibly. “Two more months. It couldn’t have waited two more months?”
************
Someone had egged her car and scrawled epithets all over her windows in white shoe polish. “Traitor” and “whore” were the least objectionable.
Somehow she couldn’t even find it in herself to be surprised.
Lois stared at the damage to her car; in the dim light she couldn’t see whether any of the shoe polish had gotten onto her paint, but she knew what that would mean. Permanently etching any of those hurtful words on her car would mean she’d have to get her father involved. The car would have to be repainted and her father would want to prosecute the people involved.
“I know a place we can clean this up,” Clark said quietly, touching her on the arm.
She would have objected to his touching her so familiarly, but it felt oddly comforting.
Lights played over them, and Lois heard a roaring engine from behind them. She turned slightly, blinded by the lights and a moment later the car was accelerating toward them.
Clark stepped in front of her calmly, and Lois felt her stomach drop. The football team wasn’t crazy enough to try to run them over, were they?
Clark seemed confident that they wouldn’t; he simply stood his ground. Lois felt herself tensing to dodge to the side, but Clark was utterly relaxed.
At the last moment the car, which only now Lois was able to see was Tom Church’s black Trans-Am swerved to the side, tire’s squealing.
Something came flying through the air heading directly for them, and suddenly Lois found her vision obscured.
Clark’s hand was in front of her face holding a full beer bottle. For a moment Lois couldn’t understand where he’d gotten it. It took her a second to understand that Tom had actually thrown a beer bottle so that it would hit her in the head.
The Trans-Am came to a stop, all four of the guys inside staring at Clark with wide-eyed surprise. Lois was thankful to see that Joe Malloy, at least wasn’t one of the guys in the car.
For the first time, Lois felt Clark tense up. He raised the bottle, as though he was going to throw it back, and the Trans-Am roared suddenly away.
Clark stared after them with an intense look on his face.
“It’s all right,” Lois said, grabbing his upraised arm, even though she wasn’t really sure it was all right at all.
A glass bottle in the face could have blinded her, maybe even killed her. She’d never expected things to escalate to this point.
“They could have hurt you,” Clark said, still watching the car retreat into the distance.
“They didn’t,” she said. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
He looked back at her, and then looked at the beer bottle in his hand as though he didn’t recognize it. He shuddered and offered it to her. “I don’t suppose you drink?”
Lois couldn’t help her expression of revulsion. Given the problems she’d had with her mother over the past few years, she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to drink.
“I don’t know where Tom Church’s hands have been,” Lois said. “And I really, really don’t want to know.”
He looked at the bottle in his hand, and then he grimaced. He stared into the darkness, and then threw the bottle, which disappeared into the night.
“That’s just going to make a mess,” Lois said.
“I know,” Clark said. For some reason he chuckled.
*************
Lois stared at the side of the road as she slowly pulled past. Tom Church’s Trans-Am was pulled over by the side of the road with both back wheels flat. Somehow, the rear window had completely shattered. The boys were all standing outside the car staring at the vehicle.
They were on a side road, away from the streaming mass of cars that were heading away from the game, and as far as Lois could see there was no one behind her.
Clark began to roll the window down.
“Clark!” Lois said. After what they’d done she was in no mood to offer them any assistance. As far as she was concerned, they could walk all night through the suicide slums.
She heard the sounds of two small explosions; a sudden look showed her that the front tires had somehow blown out as well.
Lois pushed her foot down on the accelerator and they sped past the boys.
“What was that all about?”
“I thought about saying something about karma,” Clark said. “But I was afraid they’d think I was talking about candy.”
What…oh…caramel.
She grinned at Clark, who smiled back.
“This won’t be the end of it,” Clark said after a moment. His smile faded. “Monday, things could go one of two ways. The team could pretend nothing happened, or they’ll go to the coach and principal and start making accusations.”
“You barely touched anybody!” Lois said. “There was a whole crowd of witnesses!”
“That’s the problem,” Clark said. “You know how the gossip mill works. By the time Monday rolls around, the story will grow and get exaggerated. People will start saying I’m Bruce Lee or something.”
“Aren’t you?” Lois stared at him for a moment before looking back at the road. “You looked pretty impressive out there.”
“I’ve only been studying Aikido for a year and a half,” Clark said. “I’m strong and fast, so it makes me look better than I really am. The guys who know what they’re doing, it takes at least ten years of training.”
“I’ve never even heard of Aikido,” Lois said. “I’m taking Tae Kwon Do.”
“It’s been around for a while.”
“So what made you get into it?” Lois asked. “I’m taking Tae Kwon Do for self-defense. You look like you’re strong enough not to need it.”
Clark stared at his hands and he chuckled bitterly. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
“Clark?”
He was silent for a long moment, and he didn’t look up. “I wanted something where I could learn to not hurt people. Aikido is as much about protecting the other guy as it is about defending yourself.”
“It must have been expensive,” Lois said.
In her experience with Tae Kwon Do, it wasn’t just expensive in terms of money. Getting good took a lot of time and dedication, and from what she’d seen, Clark looked very good. It was hard to see how he’d have time to keep up, given what she knew of his schedule.
“It was important to me.”
His tone of voice didn’t invite any questions, and so Lois let it lie, no matter how many questions it raised in her mind.
He’d saved her life and put himself on the line for her, and she wasn’t going to forget that.
