The roar of the waves echoed in Kakarot's ears; the salty breeze filled his lungs and caressed his face. He activated the scouter. It showed him the distance to the Turtle Hermit, whom he had traveled for half a month to find. It was too far away to swim there with all his things over his head.
He walked along the shore in search of a solution when he found a small boat covered with a tarp next to a wooden hut.
A man with a tanned face and arms came out of the hut yawning and noticed him. "Good morning, young man. Are you lost?"
"I'm looking to cross the sea and I see you have a boat," Kakarot said, ready to let go of his stuff and break the man's neck at the slightest protestation.
The man raised an eyebrow as if thinking of something. "I need it to fish, but if you want I can take you in exchange for one of those tiger pelts sticking out of your pack."
"Deal." Kakarot had brought the pelts for such a purpose since Son Gohan used to trade them for supplies.
The man told him to wait there while he went to get his fishing gadgets. Kakarot, amused by the idea that some people would need tools for fishing, uncovered the tarp, threw his things inside the boat, and began to push it toward the sea.
"You sure are strong, boy," the man said, burdened with all kinds of strange objects. "It takes me a lot longer to get the boat to the water, and I always end up short of breath."
Once on the sea, the fisherman rowed while Kakarot steered them in the right direction using the scouter, which the man took for some sort of toy from the big city.
The Earthling sang seafaring songs in which large ships with hundreds of sailors fought horrible sea beasts or were accosted by seductive mermaids. In the middle of that last one, the man stopped and scratched the back of his head. "Maybe that's not a good song for a young boy."
Well past noon, they finally glimpsed a small island with several palm trees, in the center of which stood a pink two-story house with a red roof; above the door, two words: Kame House.
Kakarot disembarked and took out his things. He gave the man his well-earned tiger pelt and he left, singing another one of his cheerful songs. Kakarot approached the house and knocked on the door, which soon opened.
The Turtle Hermit was thin-armed and thin-legged, as bald as Son Gohan, and had a long white beard that covered the lower half of his wrinkly face. He was short and stooped, perhaps because of the weight of the turtle shell he carried on his back, and he leaned his hands upon a thick wooden cane. He wore shorts and a colorful shirt, and hid his eyes behind red-rimmed dark glasses. "Good morning, lad. What can I do for you?"
Kakarot bowed, as he knew it was the polite thing to do. "My name is Son Goku, grandson of Son Gohan, who was your pupil long ago."
"Really? How is he?"
"He died two weeks ago."
"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that. He was without a doubt the finest man I ever trained."
"Before he died, Grandpa told me to travel to this island to learn from you, as he did."
The Turtle Hermit looked out to the sea and scratched his beard with a thin, spotted hand. "I'm sorry for your loss, Goku, I really am, but I'm afraid your journey has been in vain. I've retired from martial arts; I haven't taken an apprentice in decades."
"But you are the greatest martial artist in the world, Grandpa told me all kinds of stories about you. He was your best student, you just said so, and this was his last will."
The Turtle Hermit sighed and pursed his lips, making his long white mustaches dance. "I guess that's the least I can do for both of you. But I must warn you, my training is awfully tough."
"I don't care."
The old man shrugged. "All right then, get your things inside and meet me outside. This island is too small for training, we'll move to a larger one."
Kakarot didn't understand why he should put his things inside the house if they were going to leave, but did so without protest. Outside, the Turtle Hermit pressed a button hidden behind a panel next to the door, and the house vanished in an instant. Kakarot looked around with suspicion, but try as he might, couldn't make sense of it.
The old man picked up a small object from the ground. "Had you never seen a Hoi-Poi capsule before? They can make a house fit in the palm of your hand. Well, no wonder, you've lived your whole life in the mountains."
"How do we go now?" Kakarot asked.
The old man put the capsule in a small box and took out another. "Don't worry, I have a boat. Chicks love boats." He threw the capsule into the water, and after a small burst of white smoke, a boat floated where before there had been nothing.
The Turtle Hermit's boat was propelled by a large engine with blades in the back, so it was much faster than the rowboat he had taken that morning. Soon appeared on the horizon an island crowned by a mountain from the top of which rose a pillar of smoke, as if it were a chimney.
The volcano, which was what the old man called that type of smoking mountain, had not erupted for centuries, whatever that meant, and that column of smoke was a good thing, since it meant that the pressure did not accumulate.
After arriving, they walked toward the Turtle Hermit's plot of land, and Kakarot noticed the many other houses there, and the people.
"You're surprised, aren't you? This island has about three hundred inhabitants," the old man said.
"That's a lot more people than I've seen in my life."
"Well, that's nothing. This is a small town. Millions of people live in the largest cities."
"Whoa."
While Kakarot calculated how long it could take him to depopulate Earth with this new information, the Turtle Hermit activated and tossed a capsule, and made the house reappear in the middle of the clearing.
"I assume your grandfather taught you the fundamentals of martial arts, Goku."
Kakarot nodded.
"Then I won't bore you going over them again. Let's see what you've got." He scanned his surroundings. "See that rock? It's about fifty meters from here, let's see how long it takes you to touch it and run back." He took out a contraption that allowed him to measure time, a stopwatch, he called it. He raised his arm. "Ready, set, go!"
Kakarot rushed off, striding as fast as his short legs allowed. Before reaching the rock, he jumped toward it and propelled himself back with his feet. As he dashed by the Turtle Hermit, he heard a beeping sound similar to that of the scouter.
"Eight and a half seconds, exceptional for a boy your age and size. Even so, it remains within human limits."
That made the hair on Kakarot's tail bristle with rage. Human? How dare he call him that? But he calmed down, remembering that only he knew he was a Saiyan, and so it should remain. Let the old man say what he will.
"If you want to become a master of martial arts," the old man added, "you must break that wall."
The Turtle Hermit handed him the stopwatch, took off his turtle shell, and left it in the grass. "Press the button when I start running and once more when I get back here."
"Okay. Ready, set, go!"
He shot out like a tiger in pursuit. In an instant, he touched the rock and sprinted back.
Kakarot pressed the button again. "Zero, zero, five, period, six," Kakarot read from the stopwatch's screen.
"Five seconds, six. I have gotten rusty in my retirement. This is what I mean when I talk about the wall of humanity. When I'm done with you, it won't take you even five seconds. Now follow me, we will gauge the strength of your arms." They walked to the rock they had just run to."Try to move it."
The rock was twice as tall as the Turtle Hermit, and five times as wide.
"I don't think I've ever moved a rock this big..."
The old man frowned and set his hands against the stone. He took a breath and pushed, dragging the rock several meters. "See? That's the level of strength you can expect after years and years of hard work."
"Wait, I just said I hadn't done it before, not that I wasn't going to." Kakarot imitated the old man and pushed with all his might. By the time he was out of breath, he had moved the rock even further than the Earthling.
The Turtle Hermit looked at him with his mouth open, and suddenly, turned on the spot and ran up to a boulder at least ten times larger than the one they had just moved. "Oh, sorry, my mistake. I meant this one."
Kakarot ignored the old man's nervous laugh and tried to move the boulder. He pushed with the strength of every fiber in his body, but the boulder remained in place.
"Don't be discouraged, lad. You've made a good effort, and now I have a clear idea of the level you're at."
"Could you move it?"
The Turtle Hermit coughed. "What? Well, of course. How could you even ask such a question?"
The old man examined the rock with his gaze for a minute.
And another.
"Are you going to?" Kakarot asked.
The old man scoffed and took off his shirt, assumed a position with his legs bent at his sides, and closed his fists, straining as if constipated. In an instant, his body swelled, becoming several times larger and much more muscular. He rested his huge hands on the rock and pushed. To Kakarot's surprise, the boulder began to move.
A few seconds later, the Turtle Hermit ceased his effort and his body returned to its normal size.
The old man took his shirt from the grass and began to button it. "You see, smart-ass? Anyway, all this exercise has made me thirsty, would you bring me a beer from the fridge?"
"What is a beer? And a fridge? "Kakarot asked.
The old man shook his head and raised a finger as if to make a point. "Strength is useless if it's not tempered with knowledge. We'll have to work on that too. Well, let's go home, it will soon be dark, and tomorrow training begins at dawn."
After a dinner too light to Kakarot's liking, the old man gave him a futon to sleep in the living room. Kakarot was still not used to sleeping alone, but he knew that sharing a bed had contributed to his attachment to Son Gohan. He wouldn't make that mistake twice.
The first light of day and the cackling cries of some animal he hadn't heard before woke him up. The Turtle Hermit came down the stairs and led him outside.
"Before we start, I'd like to say a few words about martial arts," the old man said. "You don't study martial arts to win fights or make girls say, "Oooh, you're so strong." The goal of mastering martial arts is attaining health in body and mind; to be able to live life with as much courage, uniqueness, and energy as one wishes. But if someone tries to intimidate you or other people with a strength they don't deserve, you must defeat them in one fell swoop. Do you understand, Goku?"
"Yes, Master," Kakarot said, suppressing a smile. "I'll train hard and have no mercy on that sort of people."
"Well, enough talk. Follow me."
The Turtle Hermit trotted away, and Kakarot followed. They went up a dirt road, through houses and plots of land, and arrived before a low semi-spherical building at the door of which a two-legged cow stacked boxes. The old man stopped and spoke to the animal.
Did this being count as an Earthling? He was not human, but he was intelligent, lived in a house, and even wore clothes. He had to count.
The cow gave the old man a folded piece of paper with strange drawings on it.
The Turtle Hermit examined it for a moment and put it away. "Pick up those boxes and follow me, Goku. We're going to deliver some milk."
"Wait, are you going to do it on foot?" the cow interjected. "We normally use the helicopter." He pointed to a strange, dragonfly-looking vehicle parked on the other side of the building.
"Nonsense. If we did that, it wouldn't be training," the Turtle Hermit said and turned to Kakarot, who had already taken the boxes. "Alright, we will go to the first house, which is two kilometers away... skipping. Let's go!"
When they arrived at the house, he explained to him how the whole thing worked. He had to put a bottle of milk in the small container by the door with the word 'Milk' on it, pick up the empty bottle inside, and put that one in the box. It didn't look hard, and the boxes didn't weigh that much.
"Let's go."
They skipped all the way to the next house, always avoiding the most direct route: zigzagging through the rows of trees that flanked the roads, circling each house several times, and doing squats every time a bird would fly over them.
They ran up some stairs carved into a huge rock formation. Upon reaching the top, where there was only one house, Kakarot was breathing hard. The old man waited for him sitting on a rock, and puffing on a long pipe that released rings of white smoke. , It would have been so easy with the Power Pole, but that way he wouldn't get stronger.
Lightheaded, Kakarot put the milk bottle in the container and took the empty one. An Earthling came out of the small house and thanked him with a bow. Kakarot raised his head a little in response, and at once, the Turtle Hermit's cane struck his head.
"You must not forget your manners, no matter how tired you are. When your grandfather delivered milk, he always would greet everyone we met along the way."
"Good morning, sir. Excuse my bad manners," Kakarot said, and noted how the Turtle Hermit wanted people to be treated around him. He had never had this problem with Son Gohan, living alone in the mountains as they did.
The Turtle Hermit resumed the march over a fallen trunk that connected the large rock to another of similar height. Kakarot walked balancing the milk boxes over his head, and trying not to fall.
They crossed shifting sands that swallowed anything that didn't cross them quickly enough, strong streams of water near mighty waterfalls, and jungles full of strange huge beasts called dinosaurs, which chased and devoured any creature they saw.
Finally, they returned to the cow's house and handed him the boxes full of empty bottles. Kakarot dropped onto the grass, panting. It had proved tougher than expected; the Turtle Hermit had been true to his word.
"Believe me, this will get much easier as you do it every day," said the old man, who hadn't even broken a sweat. "Well, that's it for the early morning routine, now let's tackle the morning one."
They walked to a large meadow divided into plots of land, where men in conical straw hats carved lines on the ground with a strange kind of shovel.
"Morning training will consist in plowing this field," the Turtle Hermit said, pointing at the men as an example for him. "Come on, don't dilly-dally. The longer you take, the longer breakfast is delayed."
Kakarot grabbed one of those tools.
"What are you doing? You can't use a hoe!" the old man protested. "This exercise is meant to strengthen your hands and arms. You must plow the field bare-handed."
Kakarot let go of the tool and began stabbing the ground with his hands. By the time he had filled the whole plot of land with parallel furrows, he was out of breath, his arms burned, and his hands were red, numb, and skinned.
"What took you so long?" the Turtle Hermit asked. "I'm starving here. You'll have to go faster tomorrow. After all, the field you just plowed was the smallest on the island."
After the most anticipated breakfast of Kakarot's life, they returned to Kame House. To work on his mind, they studied the classics of Earth's literature. He had to stop reading many times since there were many words he did not know; the Turtle Hermit wrote them on a blackboard and explained their meaning. At the end of the lesson, they went over the list to check that he had retained the meaning of the new words. Interestingly, many of them had to do with parts of the female anatomy, around which most of the stories revolved.
At noon they lay down in hammocks tied to the trunks of palm trees and took a nap.
"Move well, study well, play well, eat well, sleep well," the old man said. "That is the way of the Turtle School."
After the nap, it was time to work in construction, carrying wagons full of a gray, muddy material called cement from a big truck to wherever it was needed, and it was never close. After that, they walked to a large lake.
"To wash off the sweat," the Turtle Hermit said, "the next exercise will be swimming. Go to the far shore and back ten times."
Kakarot undressed and jumped into the water. "That's it? It's light work."
"Yeah, just watch out for the shark."
"What's a shark?"
Ten laps later, and after learning firsthand what a shark was, the Turtle Hermit led him to a tree with a rope tied to its thick trunk and instructed him to tie one of the loose ends around his waist.
"This exercise will sharpen your reflexes," the old man said, slowly moving back. "You have to dodge the enemy's attacks within the range of this rope."
"Who's the enemy?" Kakarot asked.
The Turtle Hermit took a stone from the ground and threw it to the high branches. After a hollow blow, a buzzing frenzy rose. Hundreds of bees covered the air around him, looking for the one who had attacked their hive, and found only him.
When the exercise was over, it was starting to get dark. Kakarot was covered in swollen lumps from the bees' stings, and as they walked back to Kame House, he did his best not to scratch them, as he knew that would only make them itch even more.
"That should do it for today's training," the Turtle Hermit said, sitting on the porch of the house as he ran his hand over one of his shells, although it was smaller than the one he wore.
Kakarot couldn't remember ever being as tired and sore as he was now. "Will I really have to do this every day?"
"Of course not. Today was a warm-up. Starting tomorrow, you'll do the same as today, but carrying this twenty-kilo shell on your back." The old man smiled. "Now do you see why they call me the Turtle Hermit?"