I am the Stout Master, and I continue my chronicle of the Antagonistic Buddha's life. I answered a summons to the Antagonistic Buddha's quarters. He greeted me and invited me to sit with him. He seemed pensive.
"Stout Master, I noticed your work on the Old Warrior seemed curt."
"Perhaps, Great Sage. But I tried to relay what you have told us."
He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and massaged it gently. A smile flickered across his face as he finished, "Yes, perhaps I have been reticent about my relationship with him."
The Antagonistic Buddha poured himself a Jameson. He held up a second tumbler and looked at me. I waved the unspoken offer away. He sat down opposite me.
"He was not an easy teacher, you know."
"Please," I said, "What was he like?"
"Breathe out... slowly... do not gulp," said the Old Warrior.
J_____ lay flat on the forest floor. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and camouflage pants. The Old Warrior, with his pet crow Odin perched on his shoulder, stood on J_____'s abdomen. J_____ struggled to lift the Old Warrior with every inhalation, and his muscles ached.
"If you do not breathe correctly, you do not move correctly."
J_____ grunted and groaned. Odin cackled.
"Pitiful," The Old Warrior sighed, "I can see the deadly hamburger has done its evil work."
"Am I in hell?" J_____ wheezed.
"Not yet," replied the Old Warrior. He stepped off J_____. Odin took wing and alighted on a nearby limb.
J_____ stumbled to his feet and brushed off the dirt and dead leaves, "You know, sir, there are times when I really like you."
"Of course," The Old Warrior said, grinning.
"And there are times when I could really kill you."
"Good! We will practice that next."
The Old Warrior raised his walking staff and took a fighting stance. J_____ searched the underbrush for a stick. The Old Warrior circled.
"You move like a pregnant yak," taunted the Old Warrior, then he launched a series of strikes before J_____ could arm himself.
"Hey!" cried J_____, "Give me a chance; I'm still learning."
"To learn my teachings, I must first teach you how to learn," The Old Warrior swung with a second flurry of attacks.
"Jesus!" J_____ shouted. He rubbed his side where the stick struck him.
"Concentrate! This is no time for prayer."
J_____ focused and assumed a defensive posture. The Old Warrior attacked again. J_____ managed to intercept -- painfully -- about half of the strikes.
"Your reflexes are pitiful! The seasons move faster!"
"Why are you always criticising me?" J_____ avoided a single thrust, dropped quickly and came up with a thick branch.
"He who questions training only trains himself at asking questions," answered the Old Warrior.
The two men exchanged mighty blows in a whirlwind of sticks. These freeplay sessions in the woods were meant to break J_____ of the bad habits he acquired in dojo training. His footwork was more narrow to stay balanced in the uneven terrain and he looked for obstacles that might snag his weapon in flight.
J_____ inserted his stick between the Old Warrior's wrists and twisted. He managed to disarm the Old Warrior, and J_____ surprised himself with the move.
Taking advantage of the gap in J_____'s defenses, the Old Warrior simply snatched the short stick out of J_____'s hand. The Old Warrior tossed the stick under a bush and smiled. J_____ frowned and continued to attack bare handed. Punch after kick after punch flew at the Old Warrior. The Old Warrior avoided the strikes by blending and flowing into the dead space just in front of J_____.
"Pathetic. You must lash out with every limb, like the octopus who plays the drums."
J_____ grew angry and switched to Drunken Boxing. The Old Warrior took one of J_____'s wrists and twisted sharply. J_____ flipped in mid-air and crashed onto the ground.
"Your temper is very quick, my student. But until you learn to master your rage..."
"'My rage will become my master?' That's what you were going to say. Right? Right?"
Odin flew down and perched on the Old Warrior's shoulder. He frowned, "Not necessarily."
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