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I nodded, surrendering the cash before looking around again. When the cashier made to hand me my change, he noticed my nervous disposition and glanced about too.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, stuffing the change into my pocket. Being noticed in such a small city was not something I needed. Not when the dangerous criminals had found me in Nebraska. There was no doubt I could have been traced the additional eight hours north, especially since I took the bus that went only a handful of directions.
Walking back, I noticed the strip mall across the way, the neon lights old and faded. Parts of them were out altogether. But still I could read the sign that said: LeBlanc’s Martial Arts.
I stopped, wanting to cross the street to check it out. But in the dead of night, I’d likely be seen as a vandal…or worse.
Deciding to check it out in the morning, I hastened back to the decrepit hotel and locked myself in my room with a gusted breath. A yawn escaped me while I put the meager groceries on the tiny table in the corner.
The bed looked like the newest part of the building, and I quickly wondered if the bedding was regularly sanitized before collapsing onto it. My knee twinged and I rolled over to inspect the bandages. I’d cleaned it the best I could on the bus with a bottle of water, an antiseptic wipe, and at least six band-aids.
The wound likely should have received stitches, but I couldn’t risk checking into a hospital until I had a regular cash flow again. Another yawn tugged my lips apart, then I was falling into the abyss of darkness where nightmares chased and haunted me.
I awoke only a few hours later, breathing heavily, with the blankets all sorts of tangled. My knee ached and I imagined I’d been jerking and fighting against them in my sleep.
Early morning rays coated the back of the drawn curtains, a sliver slipping through a crack. The sound of cars rushing by outside and bass thumping somewhere in the building meant there was no way I was going back to sleep.
I got to my feet and headed for the bathroom to shower. The water bounced from scalding to ice cold so many times I barely managed to get my hair clean. Stepping out, I felt more flustered than before showering.
Trying to recall the nightmares was impossible. Each tiny tidbit I recalled disintegrated like beads of water slipping between my fingertips. After toweling off and getting dressed in my cleanest clothes, I brushed my hair and applied some light makeup. My stomach grumbled for food, so I grabbed a bottled coffee drink that was room temperature to sip on my walk down to the martial arts dojo.
The morning bustle was a familiar pace, and I reveled in it. Chugging the sweet coffee drink, I stopped at the door, seeing the light on. I tried the door, but when I tugged on it, the lock clanged. So, I lifted my hand and knocked.
A moment later, a woman with a severe face and light brown hair tied in a knot at the top of her head came to the door. I pasted on what I hoped was a friendly smile. She hesitated, then turned the latch and cracked the door an inch.
“Yes?” she snapped.
“Hi, I’m…” I paused for only a split second, but her brow rose in question. “Bernadette. I was hoping to apply for a job here.”
Her brow lifted higher. “Do you have a resume on you?”
I shook my head. “No, sorry, but I’d be willing to hand-write it. Do you have an application I could fill out?”
The woman looked annoyed. “Have you trained, girl?”
I nodded. “A little bit of everything.”
Her lips pursed. “Come on in, I’ll get you an application.”
I beamed, following her into the building. Instead of leading me to the office I could see at the back, she took her place in the center of the mat. I was opening my mouth to say something when she barked, “Put your bag down.”
I tossed it aside, understanding sending a thrill through my blood. My hands lifted in automatic defense. The woman bowed, and I returned the formal gesture only a second before she moved.
If Romero was like a swift, deadly viper, this woman was a spider. Her attacks came one after the other, so fast I didn’t have time to get my own strike in. But I met each one, blocking, twisting, and dodging.
My body seemed to know exactly what to do, the stagnant heat in my muscles becoming a pleasant burn as the woman put me through my paces, changing styles without warning. She moved to get her shoulder into my abdomen in a maneuver that would’ve ended with me on my back. But I used her own weight against her, twisting her to the floor with an arm around her neck.
She went still for a moment, then whipped a leg around me, whipping me to the floor before she leapt to her feet in a ready stance. I lay on my back, breathing hard from the exertion and sheer excitement of a good sparring partner.
The woman stared down at me, eyeing me a little differently now. “What did you say your name was?”
“Bernadette,” I answered, unable to stop myself from smiling.
She inclined her head once. “I am Sensei LeBlanc.”
I bent at the waist in a show of respect. “Very nice to meet you.”
