The Encounter

(idea/written: 2004)

They both looked at one another and knew that it wouldn’t be easy. They were both fit, well train and had their backs to the wall. Neither could walk away. Neither could afford to lose.

Only one would walk away. Only one would survive the encounter.

And yet they stood there with a remarkable calm. It would start soon. The faint sound of a clock tic-tic-tic’d in their shared memories. They breathed deeply but regularly, they imposed a steady beat on their hearts. Training took over, their skin tingled, a taste of salt in their mouths.

It would start. Soon.

Now.

The First took a step forward dipping his left shoulder as he spun counter clockwise bring his left forearm around with a phenomenal speed. But the First cut the strike short as his opponent had let his knees go limp at the movement and had drop to a crouch, balanced on the balls of his feet with his center of gravity drifting forward. First twisted, used the momentum of his first attack as a counterforce and swiftly brought his right knee in a tight arc around his hips trying to make contact with his opponent’s left check. But it was not to be as his opponent had used tension in his legs to launch himself forward and up. First shot out his right hand in an open handed push and spun out of the way, landing in a pirouette and leaving him in a guard position. His opponent landed in a summersault and twisted around while rising to arrive in the same guard position.

Neither man had an expression on his face, just a wide eyed blankness. Standing at guard and watching.

Again.

The First took a step, two, and bowed forward as he spun as hard as he could to the left while launching his left foot with as much speed as he could. His opponent halted a move forward to step inside the kick and once again let his knees collapse as he threw his body back and down, thrusting his hands back over his shoulders. The First’s left foot swept through the air above his opponent’s hips as his right left flexed and he started to spin around his left leg, his right making a brutally quick pass first over and then under his left to land on his right foot again, still spinning.

His opponent brought his knees tight up to his chest and explosively shot his legs in the air as he pushed as hard as he could off the floor with his hands, only to jerk his legs down and arc his back. The first continued his spin and thrust his he left foot toward the space his opponent had previously occupied and made contact just as his opponent’s feet touched the floor. His opponent let the force of the blow to fold him over and gripped the First’s foreleg in a two armed grapple as he flexed his legs up and kicked with both feet at the inside of the First’s right knee. As soon as the First became aware of the weight on his left leg he started to lift his right leg up and away and thus only took a glancing blow.

Both men dropped to the floor and disengaged, rolled apart and stood up. The First’s right knee burning with the shock of the blow it took while his opponent forced his body to suck in what air it could. Both men became slightly distant as they tried to marshal their bodies to cope with the damage each had taken. Both men circled the other looking for an opening. Both men watching the other without thought. Training ruled here, time measured in fractions of a heartbeat. The world did not exist only the arena for this crossing of wills, a room dimly seen by the mind but noted none the less. And yet the First was aware of every motion, every ripple of muscle under the skin of his opponent just as his opponent was of his. Tunnel vision of a special kind. Life desperately disregarding anything other than the threat at hand. Life fighting for survival.



The First’s opponent thrust his left hand at the First’s eyes while kicking at his undamaged knee.

First leapt forward with his left knee flex and lifted up to act as a battering ram while deflecting the punch upward with his right hand grasping the wrist. His opponent shot his right hand forward towards the First’s throat flexing the space between thumb and fingers ridged. First snapped his chin down but still took a strong hit to his larynx and lost his forward momentum as well. First brought his right hand down in a hand blow to the chest of his opponent while bringing his left arm up to force his opponents grip from his throat while he forcing his balance backwards and running the instep edge of the sole of his shoe down the inside of his opponent’s left leg. First broke free and dropped backwards into a roll. His opponent forced his balance forward and took a step and snap kicked forward at the First missing as the First rolled twice and kicked up with his legs and shoved his body up and arcing away from his opponent. Another snap kick followed by another a foot higher followed by another a foot higher.

And another a foot higher. The opponent swung his foot down in a crescent and when his foot met the floor launched himself at the First.

Both men struggled to breath as the met. Each tried to grapple with the other. Each evaded. The First and his opponent where in constant contact now as each sought advantage over the other.

The beginning of a heartbeat: The First opponent is trying to pin his arms but the First pushes his elbows out and his hands up between them.

The end of the beat: The First is driving his elbows down into his opponent’s shoulders and chest as his opponent makes contact with his knee and the First’s groin.

The beginning of a beat: The First is rabbit punching at his opponent’s sides as his opponent slams his head down onto the First’s nose, breaking the First’s nose and adding to the tears blurring the First’s vision.

The end of the beat: The First twists his head to the side as his opponent slams his head down again, fracturing the First’s check bone.

Time stands still. Time races. Both men still struggle for breath as they struggle with each other.

They are like this forever and for only the briefest of moments. Neither is aware of pain, of injury.

A desperation rises in them as they struggle for breath. As they struggle with each other.

A sound. A sound cuts across the grunts and the ragged gasps for breath. A tiny sound. A short sound. An abrupt sound.

Both men collapse to the floor. There is barely any motion in the heap for a time that seems like an eon. Then a lurching of the bodies.

The First half rolls half pushes his opponents body off of him. More time passes.

The First slowly struggles to his feet and looks down at his opponent. Fear of what could have been, anger of what was and is wash over his face only to be displace by the emptiness of exhaustion as he realizes that he may have to do this again.

Someday.

The First slowly, painfully leaves the room.