COBRA STRIKING
The reflection visible in the computer screen showed a face sombre with regret, tight with anguish, troubled by past mistakes and hard with determination. The soft blue eyes had seen much of life and liked little of it but there was a compression to the lips that would not be denied.
Sensei looked at himself and thought how much his face had altered since he'd been a brash and boyish competitor in the All Valley Final, sure then he was unbeatable but about to find out the hard way that he wasn't.
The night nurse Mabel looked up – African-American, about fifty and plump – she scowled, "You got ID," her voice was scratchy with fatigue it had been a long shift.
Handing over a driver's licence and a letter sensei avoided her questioning, motherly gaze, "And you say you're his son," she asked, "No son is mentioned in the file."
Hiding the pain that lanced through him sensei kept his features impassive, "We've not been close for a time," he didn't add any details about the fights, disappointments, ultimate, bail outs and walk outs Mable didn't need to know that stuff.
"Frank Lawrence, he's in ELC that means..."
"I know what it means," ELC meant End of Life Care, dad was dying, the old man had come to the end of the road.
"It's late and we don't usually allow visitors at this time," meeting those baby blue eyes and thinking how cute they were Mabel relented, "Still as you're a close relative," she typed something in, "Fourth Floor, turn left and left again."
God it was busy in reception, chaotic, people moaning, bleeding, talking to themselves, clutching kids, supporting old people. At the four end where 4 teens, lads lounging around making a noise none of them looked ill or injured but folk were too scared to say anything. Someone had been stabbed in here a week ago and these boys looked capable.
Ignoring the boys sensei made his way towards the stairs that is until a metal crutch tapped him in the stomach. It was held by the fattest of the teens, a spotty kid with a bush of untidy brown curls and rat mean eyes.
"Where you going old man," his voice was slightly slurred, his pupils dilated. Anger flared inside sensei but he kept cool kept breathing, made himself relax then he gave this boy the stare, a stare that said so much like back off or you don't want to do this or wrong time and place.
The kid gazed back insolently but the crutch dropped and as the other three smirked sensei walked past and away.
"Asshole," he heard and paused just briefly at the stairwell door, not looking back, not shaking his head just pausing weighing up the odds, thinking about teaching these boys a lesson; later maybe.
God he'd aged, the skin yellowish grey, the cheeks sunken, the lips blue and forehead even more heavily lined. Breath coming in rasps and thin arms folded over his stomach Frank Lawrence didn't look like such a tough guy now, a man who'd beaten 4 teamsters in a bar fight, disarmed a punk with a knife, kicked in doors and barked orders.
This version was a shadow of that man a pale imitation like a wax copy left out in the rain too long. Sensei stopped in the doorway to look down, memories flooding him, arguments, promises, compromises and yes a few laughs at least in the early days.
Frank stirred his heavy lids flickering, "Who's there," he still had that growl sharp and deep.
"Your son," sensei responded letting the door slip to.
"My son is dead," Frank blinked.
"Your other son," he was told.
"I don't have another son Dale was my son, the only boy I ever wanted."
Oh yes good old Dale the golden boy who everybody liked, top of the class, president of the student union, big smile, lots of charm, said the right things, got the right job and married the right girl. Dad's favourite – handsome, perfect, no flaws well none he let show.
"Yeah well he isn't here I am," sensei unclenched his fists but couldn't check the tremble in his voice.
"You would be," Frank sighed, "The bad penny," now he made eye contact, "Bit late aren't you boy?"
Unable to match the golden aura of Dale, sensei had rebelled he gone for tough not smart, angry not charming, he'd bad mouthed, fought, mixed with the wrong crowd become hard, desensitized.
"At least I came," he said.
"For what, to gloat well go ahead enjoy yourself I'm all but finished."
"Self-pity," sensei permitted himself a sour little smile, "I wouldn't have thought it of you not the great Frank Lawrence."
That touched a nerve as he knew it would, if nothing else pop still had his pride, "We said our goodbyes Johnny, I don't want you here."
"Rejecting me to the end," he wasn't sure why he was surprised, they'd been cat and dog as long as he could remember, two of a kind uncompromising.
"No you rejected me boy, you turned your back on us, went rogue," that was partially true he had left the family home, quite college and turned away from the path forged by Dale.
"I made my own way in life."
This drew a chesty laugh from the bed, "As a bum, a drop out; you could have been so much more."
"Like Dale you mean, a Frank-clone a perfect copy, well that didn't work out too well did it?"
The words hurt he could tell they'd been meant to. At 23 with a wife and kid Dale had been driving home one rainy night when a drunk ran a red light, ploughing his SUV into Dale's Toyota crushing it like a soda can.
"You bastard," a single tear traced its way down the wrinkles and sags, the blotches and dry spots, "I wish it had been you in that car."
Sensei swallowed the obstruction in his throat, sometimes he wished that to for a quick painless death.
"Thanks," he said dryly.
"Dale was my true son not you," Frank palmed moisture from his nose.
"So you never tired of telling me," growing up it had been Dale this, Dale that, top of his year, king of the prom, got the first job he applied for, married a beauty, promoted and so on ad nauseum. All hail king Dale.
"After Dale Eileen found she couldn't have any more kids so I agreed to adoption."
It was like a side kick to the stomach and Johnny almost sat down in shock, adopted, he was adopted why had they never told him?
"What," he stammered sweat breaking out on his top lip at this stunning revelation, he had never guessed not once.
"I greased the right palms, got you cheap from some single mother," Frank snorted, "It explains a lot doesn't it Johnny, you were an unwanted pregnancy an inconvenience, bad genes you were never a true Lawrence."
Unable to speak he turned away pinching his own brow, shaking, Frank had said not a word until now until right at the end of his life.
Frank eyed him, "A bad seed from the word go."
Spinning back to the bed with a violence that made the old man flinch Johnny speared him with a look fists tightly clenched, "Dale died and I didn't, why don't you admit the truth about why you hate me?"
It was there on the wrinkled face, there was no need for Frank to articulate it and nodding Johnny took a calming breath.
"You know I never did feel like a fitted into your world and your rules, that I was always the outsider somehow different; now it all makes sense I was an outsider the ultimate outsider, I don't have Frank almighty Lawrence's DNA," he spat the words with contempt.
"No," the grunt was harsh, "You don't, I should never have agreed to the adoption but Eileen begged me she pleaded for another kid."
Johnny recalled his 'mom' as he thought of her, painfully thin, pale, quiet a doormat really the little woman at home Frank's obedient wife. Yet he'd loved her dearly, would have done anything for her. When he left he was leaving Frank not her, they always kept in touch behind this man's back.
"I removed you from my will," Frank plunged in another barb, "All my money's going to Dale's widow and kid they deserve it but you don't, why throw good money after bad."
Not caring Johnny waved it aside, he didn't want a cent from this old crab he had his own money, "For your information Frank I have my own business now cobra kai, I teach karate and things are going well in fact I'm expanding opening another dojo so you can shove your will and your opinions."
Frank sneered, "Karate; didn't you lose in that once get beaten in some big final?"
Boy this creep never missed a shot did he; he never failed to stick that knife in at every opportunity? Disgusted Johnny turned away he heard enough, this had been a bad idea from the start he should never have come.
Frank blinked as if in surprise at the receding back, "Johnny," he called out then with more urgency, "Johnny," a hand was on the door when he finally said, "son."
Freezing, stunned by the word Johnny clenched his jaw and half-turned, it had been years since he'd heard that word, a long time since Frank had used it in reference to him and he felt a rare pang of emotion.
"You are like me in one way," a croak now a gasp, "You're a bastard," Frank chuckled, "You know how to hurt and aren't afraid to do it."
A small smile formed on Johnny's lips, the old man had that right he was no pushover and nobody's fool he was a warrior he struck first.
"Goodbye Frank," he began to open the door.
"Call your mother," Frank coughed and there was the briefest of hesitations.
"I already did, unlike you she can see further than the chip on her shoulder."
Nodding slowly the old man in the bed clutched at his top sheet, "I haven't got much longer."
"I know it's the only reason I'm here," he didn't love this man didn't even respect him they'd never really been all that close.
"You really are a tough nut aren't you Johnny," Frank closed his eyes tired now drained by the confrontation. Yes thought the man in the doorway I am, with one final look he nodded and left.
"Hey asshole," the 4 youths were still there making a noise, being a pain, eyeing up the pretty nurses and not giving a damn. This time Johnny stopped and turned, a grin forming on his face. He began to unzip his jacket as he took a step towards the boys.
They tensed, 2 of them stood up backs straight, the fat one lost his smirk and picked up the metal crutch.
Okay thought Johnny this is what I understand, this is how I vent my true emotions, this is how I cleanse myself of anger and grief.
Party on.