Middle Age
"There it is! Slow down!"
"Whoa, whoa, don't holler in my ear, sheesh!"
The flame-decorated motorcycle came to a halt right in front of Chez Marshall's Fine Chinese Cusine Restaurant. The small, wiry Chinese man on the back of the motorcycle grabbed onto the seat, trying to stay on as the bike came to an abrupt halt. This is the absolute last time I ever ride on the back of Paul's motorcycle, he thought to himself, sighing. He said that to himself every time; and every single time, he found himself once again getting a ride from Paul, on the back of the motorcycle.
Paul Phoenix turned the bike off and shoved the keys into his front pants pocket, then dismounted the bike. He ran his fingers through his long, spiked dark-blonde hair, and grinned at the look on his friend's face. "Aw, c'mon Forest, you'll get used to it eventually."
Forest Law glared at Paul, then shook his head, chuckling. "Yeah, I know. By the way, what time is it?"
Paul raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he peered down at the wristwatch he wore on his left wrist, underneath his glove. He caught a glimpse of the numbers, and frowned irritably. "Dammit, we're late," he grumbled.
"Again?!"
"Again."
"Ooh boy...Dad is not going to be happy," Forest sighed, heading for the restaurant entrance. He stopped just before entering and beckoned to Paul. "Follow me." Paul strolled over and together he and Forest entered. The duo walked non-chalantly through the restaurant, waving to patrons they knew and greeting employees, until they found the staircase at the back of the restaurant. Forest and Paul glanced at each other and sighed. The staircase, they knew, led to the second floor dojo also owned by Marshall Law.
The two friends jogged up the wooden stairs, slowing as they came up to the dojo door. Forest straightened his white mandarin-collared shirt while Paul shrugged his shoulders inside his leather jacket, and they both took a deep breath before stepping through the dojo entrance.
Marshall Law stood just inside the dojo, arms crossed, foot tapping, an annoyed look gracing his visage. Paul and Forest walked into the dojo and bowed respectfully, seeing the look and knowing Marshall was ticked. Marshall acknowledged the bows and jabbed his thumb behind himself.
"There's your stuff. Next time, try to get here on time," he said. Forest and Paul glanced at each other...they'd gotten off pretty easy, considering this was Marshall Law they were dealing with here.
Ten minutes later, the trio were dressed for their lesson and stretching out. Forest counted under his breath as he finished toe touches; Marshall finished warming up and stood, waiting, as Paul stood tall, having been working on his balance. Marshall glanced at the two, touching his goatee as he looked at them, then nodded toward the wall-sized mirror.
"Line up. We're gonna try something new today," Marshall ordered. Silently, Forest and Paul obliged, strolling over to the mirrored wall and facing forward; Marshall joined them, standing in between his friend and son. He took his position, setting one foot in front of the other while holding his arms evenly. Focused straight forward, he spoke without looking at either student.
"Today, we try a new move. You will flip backwards, catching yourself just before striking the ground, and spring back up. It resembles the motion a frog makes when it jumps; therefore, this move is called the Frogman," Marshall dictated seriously.
Forest smirked. Oh, I've done this before, he thought, moving into the stance and seeing Paul follow suit from the corner of his eye.
"On the count of three," Marshall said. "One...two...three."
All three people jumped into the air at the same time. Forest sprung backwards, his hands hitting the ground and holding his torso up, and sprang back to his feet, landing in the proper stance for a counterstrike. Realizing he was the only one on his feet, he glanced over at his father and Paul.
"Guys, watch....out," Forest trailed off, grimacing at the thud! as both Paul and Marshall landed on the ground. Paul rubbed his back irritably, then held his head in his left hand, grumbling to himself. Marshall had landed on the ground flat on his stomach, and began raising himself up, glaring first at Paul, then Forest.
Forest tried hiding his smile, and simply coulnd't. He grinned at Paul and Marshall, shrugging his shoulders sympathetically. "Guess that comes with middle age now, huh?"
"There it is! Slow down!"
"Whoa, whoa, don't holler in my ear, sheesh!"
The flame-decorated motorcycle came to a halt right in front of Chez Marshall's Fine Chinese Cusine Restaurant. The small, wiry Chinese man on the back of the motorcycle grabbed onto the seat, trying to stay on as the bike came to an abrupt halt. This is the absolute last time I ever ride on the back of Paul's motorcycle, he thought to himself, sighing. He said that to himself every time; and every single time, he found himself once again getting a ride from Paul, on the back of the motorcycle.
Paul Phoenix turned the bike off and shoved the keys into his front pants pocket, then dismounted the bike. He ran his fingers through his long, spiked dark-blonde hair, and grinned at the look on his friend's face. "Aw, c'mon Forest, you'll get used to it eventually."
Forest Law glared at Paul, then shook his head, chuckling. "Yeah, I know. By the way, what time is it?"
Paul raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he peered down at the wristwatch he wore on his left wrist, underneath his glove. He caught a glimpse of the numbers, and frowned irritably. "Dammit, we're late," he grumbled.
"Again?!"
"Again."
"Ooh boy...Dad is not going to be happy," Forest sighed, heading for the restaurant entrance. He stopped just before entering and beckoned to Paul. "Follow me." Paul strolled over and together he and Forest entered. The duo walked non-chalantly through the restaurant, waving to patrons they knew and greeting employees, until they found the staircase at the back of the restaurant. Forest and Paul glanced at each other and sighed. The staircase, they knew, led to the second floor dojo also owned by Marshall Law.
The two friends jogged up the wooden stairs, slowing as they came up to the dojo door. Forest straightened his white mandarin-collared shirt while Paul shrugged his shoulders inside his leather jacket, and they both took a deep breath before stepping through the dojo entrance.
Marshall Law stood just inside the dojo, arms crossed, foot tapping, an annoyed look gracing his visage. Paul and Forest walked into the dojo and bowed respectfully, seeing the look and knowing Marshall was ticked. Marshall acknowledged the bows and jabbed his thumb behind himself.
"There's your stuff. Next time, try to get here on time," he said. Forest and Paul glanced at each other...they'd gotten off pretty easy, considering this was Marshall Law they were dealing with here.
Ten minutes later, the trio were dressed for their lesson and stretching out. Forest counted under his breath as he finished toe touches; Marshall finished warming up and stood, waiting, as Paul stood tall, having been working on his balance. Marshall glanced at the two, touching his goatee as he looked at them, then nodded toward the wall-sized mirror.
"Line up. We're gonna try something new today," Marshall ordered. Silently, Forest and Paul obliged, strolling over to the mirrored wall and facing forward; Marshall joined them, standing in between his friend and son. He took his position, setting one foot in front of the other while holding his arms evenly. Focused straight forward, he spoke without looking at either student.
"Today, we try a new move. You will flip backwards, catching yourself just before striking the ground, and spring back up. It resembles the motion a frog makes when it jumps; therefore, this move is called the Frogman," Marshall dictated seriously.
Forest smirked. Oh, I've done this before, he thought, moving into the stance and seeing Paul follow suit from the corner of his eye.
"On the count of three," Marshall said. "One...two...three."
All three people jumped into the air at the same time. Forest sprung backwards, his hands hitting the ground and holding his torso up, and sprang back to his feet, landing in the proper stance for a counterstrike. Realizing he was the only one on his feet, he glanced over at his father and Paul.
"Guys, watch....out," Forest trailed off, grimacing at the thud! as both Paul and Marshall landed on the ground. Paul rubbed his back irritably, then held his head in his left hand, grumbling to himself. Marshall had landed on the ground flat on his stomach, and began raising himself up, glaring first at Paul, then Forest.
Forest tried hiding his smile, and simply coulnd't. He grinned at Paul and Marshall, shrugging his shoulders sympathetically. "Guess that comes with middle age now, huh?"