COBRA RISING
A young man needs something to believe in, something to make him feel proud and valued. Diego knew he'd found his 'thing' the moment he entered the dojo. The moves were mesmerising, the atmosphere electric and the students so committed. Sensei both terrified and inspired him, Diego wanted to be like this man one day; one day very soon.
Having arrived at the sports complex early he hung around outside, not keen to go inside by himself. He wasn't scared exactly just sort of...man up Diego you're not some kid from the barrio now, not the son of a drunk, not some punk who cuts class – you're a cobra.
Sipping from a coke he smoothed his yellow t-shirt, upon it a huge serpent hissed out at the world, orbiting the reptile were the words COBRA KAI KARATE and he was proud of the looks it attracted the mix of surprise, awe and yes even some fear.
Little Diego Lopez, wimp of the century, undersized runt and butt of every class joke now did karate. Chest puffed out he thought about doing some stretches, maybe throwing a kick or two just to show off his moves. It was what sensei would do. No sensei would be inside right now finding a gym, fixing everyone with that stare of his; a stare he hadn't quite mastered yet, a stare that said 'hey I'm important'.
One day Diego told himself, one day people would make way for him in the same way he'd have some respect in this neighbourhood and be a force to be reckoned with.
Not much over five feet and skinny he was filling out in places, gaining muscle, becoming tapered but it took time and work, nothing came without effort said sensei and he was right.
"Hey squirt," the voice made him jump, where had it come from was it a bad memory, "What are you doing here," no it was real and wheeling about Diego felt his heart sink.
Two older guys and two pretty girls were approaching him; all wore white uniforms with black piping and small Korean flags on their lapels. Oh great this was all he needed, he'd forgotten it was Thursday. One of the guys, Brad wore a blue belt with red tags, his mate Phil wore a green belt and the girls both wore yellow belts. They were part of the taekwondo class that met here every Thursday the biggest class in the sports complex and cocky with it thinking themselves a cut above everyone else.
Diego knew Brad and Phil from school even though they were two years above him; they were jocks big into sports like baseball and wrestling, guys who attracted lots of female interest like the blond Trisha who was a cheerleader and prom queen Megan.
Looking down their noses at him the quartet drew closer, the girls swaying their hips and the guys pumped up with self-importance. These were the last people Diego wanted to see and he felt his new confidence deflate like a tyre going over a sharp stone.
"Oh look - what a cute t-shirt," cooed Trisha, stunningly pretty and a grade 'A' bitch, "Is that a dragon."
"More like a worm," Brad scoffed and both girls trilled with merriment, "That's more your style isn't it squirt," his leer was unpleasant and threatening making Diego's heart begin to race.
Make eye contact and don't be the first to break it sensei's words echoed inside his head saying one of the many mantras popular in the dojo. Normally Diego would have been studying his shoes by now, head down and shoulders slumped but this new Diego looked right into Brad's eyes cool and insolent.
Brad didn't like it, "You staring at me squirt," he snapped making Diego jump slightly.
Phil sniffed, "He is man he's giving you attitude, I can't believe it."
Nobody gave these two any attitude, to do was to invite punishment, they were big and well muscled and had swatted kids him aide with ease. They lifted weights, ran track and could wrestle their coaches to the mat so they commanded fear and respect.
"What's this squirt – you do karate," Brad guffawed, "Hey look guys this garden gnome does karate," he pointed to the t-shirt and the others all laughed like it was the best joke they'd ever heard.
"We do a real martial art," said Phil puffing out his chest and Diego felt a burn of shame at the way he was being disrespected, him and his entire club.
"See this," Brad waved his belt in the air, "Next up is red belt, then black tag then I'll be a black belt," he seemed very pleased with himself, "You got a belt," he demanded like it was unlikely, "Or just a t-shirt."
"He probably just watches the others," Trisha snorted.
"What others," Megan simpered, "He's the only one here."
"Maybe it's a club of one," Phil was already heading inside the complex, "Should we invite him to taekwondo Brad?"
Seeming to consider this Brad shook his head, "Nah we already got a kick bag," and ruffling Diego's hair like he was a small kid he followed the others inside laughing and horsing around.
Stood there fuming, humiliated and red cheeked Diego couldn't believe what had just happened. It was like he was 7 years old again and being yelled at by his dad, the dad who'd walk out when he was 10 and never be seen again, the dad who'd never wanted him.
"Useless brat, get out of my sight, you're a waste of sperm," the old man stank of cigarettes and cheap booze, boot polish and bad teeth. He'd never had a good word to say to his son, had never made him feel valued or important not like fathers were supposed to.
Now here was Brad, big cocky Brad, rubbing his nose in it, showing off in front of those girls, girls who'd looked at him like he was a piece of dirt.
Let no challenge go unanswered more wisdom from sensei and Diego knew what it meant let no insult be unpunished. He had a duty an obligation to sensei and the dojo, if this slight was not avenged then what was the point in even doing karate in even aspiring to something better?
Pushing the door open Diego went to the desk silent and sullen, he offered his pass, it bleeped green and off he went up the stairs after Brad's party his chest pounding and brow damp.
He knew he was taking a hell of a risk that Brad would be angry but he had to do this even if other taekwondo people were around and he was alone, a small kid that nobody rated.
On the next landing he found them Brad and Trisha were kissing and Phil was chatting to a couple of guys in green belts who looked as fit as he did. The gym door was locked so their teacher hadn't arrived yet forcing them to hang around and wait.
A knot in his throat Brad stood there staring at them, "hey," he called out in a squeaky voice, "Brad."
Ungluing his mouth from the blond and looking around Brad had an expression of sour disbelief like he could believe some worthless kid had followed him, "get lost," he said simply but Diego didn't he moved his left foot forward and raised his fists in fighting stance number one.
The look on Brad's face was a picture, he blinked then he frowned and then he smiled.
Phil said, "Hey look the squirt wants to fight you," everyone laughed, Trisha loudest of all but Brad looked thunderous with rage.
"I told you to get lost you little crumb, this is your last chance."
Diego had to squeeze his fists very tightly to stop his hands from shaking, he wanted to run, to run and hide but knew he couldn't not if he was to face sensei again.
In any conflict take the initiative the words buzzed around in his head to back down is weakness and there are no weaklings in this dojo everyone had agreed with this including Diego, "Yes sensei," they had chanted loud and bold. But it was one thing to agree in class, quite another to put it into practise against a bigger, older and stronger opponent.
"Kick him out of here," Phil announced but another guy in a green belt was more compassionate.
"Poor little asshole, he's been watching too much YouTube."
Brad glared down at Diego, "drop your fists," he said in a reasonable voice like he was a teacher and part of Diego wanted to, to turn and run but another part of him sneered – yeah run away like your useless sold man, be a loser all your life.
Brad barked, "I said drop your fists," now he sounded more like bully Brad, bad news Brad and jumping with shock Diego kept his stance once you engage the only acceptable outcome is victory the mantra echoed in his head.
"I'm gonna kick you dip weed," Brad was in a stance now to, a looser, open hand guard weight on the back leg very Korean, Ok thought Diego throw your kick I'm ready.
"Oh leave him alone" said some slim dark haired girl with a ponytail, "He's just a wimp."
Boiling at the use of this word Diego narrowed his eyes and when the kick came he did the cascade, head down, shoulder to the ground and forward role rising into a southpaw stance, right fist and leg forward.
Enraged at having missed and the titters of his friends, Brad pivoted snorting hard like a junk yard dog chasing a rat. Not hesitating this time, not waiting for him to attack Diego slid forwards and threw a punch, catching his rival in the mouth and seeing his lip pop open.
"Hey look the squirt hit Brad," somebody shouted, "He's made him bleed."
Licking his lip then fingering it Brad eyed the blood with disbelief, Diego too was shocked that he had scored, he felt terror and pride in equal measure, maybe he wasn't so useless and ineffectual after all. It was nice to know that his karate worked.
With a snarl of wolf-like fury Brad lunged at him and Diego did what he'd been trained to do, front leg kick to the gut, back leg kick to the jaw. Brad dropped, he fell, his knees gave out and his ass hit the floor. Shocked gasps filled the air, a cry, a snort, a voice said, "Holy Jesus," and a girl covered her eyes.
Towering over Brad, Diego met his gaze, breathing ragged and fists shaking. Not such a dip weed now huh Brad, not such a squirt.
Winded Brad slowly rose still licking his lip now he had some bruises to add to the mix.
"Kill him Brad," Phil sounded bored, "Just boot him down the stairs." As Brad moved Diego tensed ready to block and counter, to evade if he had and to kick hard.
Then everyone became aware of new arrivals on the stairs, new people in black uniforms with cobras on their chests and bags and head bands and there was sensei, and he was looking right at Diego seeing everything, taking it all in.
Panting hard Brad took a step back, "little ass hit me," he said and Diego wanted to say 'only in self defence' but he didn't. Those sky blue eyes of sensei washed over Brad, was there disdain in them, contempt?
Then the gaze returned to Diego and slowly sensei stepped onto the landing, cruised across it, paused to push Diego's fists down then walked to the door of the gym he'd rented. Waving his students inside he hesitated, dipped his head and wagged a finger.
Come on said that wag join the class, Diego beamed and hurried over moved past Brad past the other shocked taekwondo people and came parallel to sensei, sure he could see pride in those blue eyes, pride that he'd represented cobra kai in combat and won upholding the honour of the dojo.
Diego felt his chest inflate, he threw Brad one last look which said 'you're done pushing me around' then he entered the dojo.
Triumphant. Proud. Vindicated.
NEXT EPISODE 'Cobra Striking' in which sensei visits his dying father in hospital and harsh truths must be faced.