Born To Be Wild

THIRTY-TWO

In the 1930s the big corporate sponsors were Procter & Gamble, Pillsbury, American Home Products, and General Foods. Thus the name was coined-soaps.

At four o’clock Friday afternoon, Mary Lisa knew death was near. There was no way she could move, not if someone yelled fire, not if Brad Pitt walked naked in front of her, and it was that last thought that made her realize just how pathetic a condition she was in. Sprawled on her back, boneless, her arms and legs flung out, her sweaty hair matted to her head, all she could do was focus on breathing. It was hard even to suck enough air into her lungs, but at least she could manage that without whimpering. She stared up at the gorgeous man who’d done his best to kill her.

“Not so perky now, are you?”

Perky? Why was he talking about her breasts at a time like this? Breath, she needed more breath to tell him what she thought of him, none of it good. He offered her a hand, and she stared at it, praying for the strength to leap up and bite it. She managed a whisper. “If I press charges, do you think the cops will lock you up?”

“Nah, since you paid me for this, it shows you desire abuse and torture and gets me off the hook. I know you think I’m a sadist, you don’t think I feel your pain. Hmm. Come to think of it, actually, I don’t. But listen, you did really good for your first lesson. You’re in good shape, you’ve got good balance, and you move well. But to be effective, you can’t let your eyes tell your opponent every move you’re going to make. I’ll teach you to blank out that expression. Surprise is everything. Now, don’t lie there like a pitiful log. I told you kicking with force would use your core muscles like nothing else. Get up, I want you to jog in place for three minutes, otherwise you’ll be stiffer than my old rheumatoid dog, Bart, by tomorrow. Come on, Mary Lisa, get your butt off that mat.”

As she jogged in place, she told Chico Rayburn he must be registered a double-O-something with the Brits, she’d swear to that. He laughed and slapped her on the back, nearly sending her to the floor.

“I like your spunk, Mary Lisa. At this rate I can teach you some useful skills in a few weeks’ time. But I need commitment from you. I told you I don’t work with anyone who isn’t committed, it’s a waste of my time. Can you swear to me right now you’re going to stick with this? You’re not going to wimp out?”

Words, how to get words out of her mouth? “Yeah, fool that I am.” She’d managed five words, good.

He beamed at her. “You’re no quitter, I knew that. And you’ve got motivation, what with that moron out there chasing you around. You don’t want to have to depend on the cops or bodyguards to protect you the rest of your life. You’re doing the right thing.”

She could breathe again and, glory be, she could speak, barely. “Yeah, I’m doing the right thing. I was hoping I’d be able to take the jerk down in maybe two weeks. Now I’m thinking maybe two hundred years.”

“You’ll have some nice moves in two weeks. The rest, like any skill, takes practice and effort.”

“I want him mangled and whimpering at my feet. To be on the safe side, I want to practice-beginning with you.”

He didn’t grin at that. He studied her a moment, then slowly nodded. “Okay, good enough. You’ve got a fire in your gut, you want to kill me-all very commendable. Now, don’t underestimate what I told you. Despite all the cardio, that cute little kickboxing class, and all that girl crap on the spinner, your body hasn’t been through this before. You’ll still be sore Sunday morning. I’ll see you Sunday afternoon, say at one o’clock.” He gave her a list of resistance exercises and stretches, thankfully illustrated with drawings since the last thing her brain could do at the moment was concentrate.

Mary Lisa gave Chico a little wave as she walked out of the innocently bland building that housed his dojo, set between two upscale antique shops on Briar Street in the middle of Venice. She had called Lou Lou, who was waiting for her, arms crossed over her breasts, leaning against Buffy.

“Dear sweet baby Jesus, Mary Lisa, you look like you’ve dropped five pounds in body sweat. And Chico, that man looks like a fallen angel.”

“Only five pounds you think? As for Chico, he’s no fallen angel, he’s the devil himself. I saw it in the mirror on the way out and it was a near-death experience. You want to drive, Lou Lou?”

“Oh yeah, me and the Buffster, we’re the duo.”

“Don’t kill me.”

Mary Lisa grunted as she eased her maimed body into the passenger side, leaned her head back against the seat, and closed her eyes. “My mom would laugh her head off if she could see me now. You know what, Lou Lou?”

“You’re going to keel over without help from that loon out there?”

“Not me.” Mary Lisa opened her eyes and grinned real big. “I see everything very clearly now. I was born to be a karate queen. Maybe it won’t even take me two weeks before that creep is really sorry he ever came after me. Oh yeah, come to Mamma. I’m gonna kick your sorry butt.”

Lou Lou rolled her eyes, honked at a skateboarder, who promptly flipped her a finger, and cut off a little Volkswagen Beetle.

Mary Lisa alternately groaned and sang along with the radio on PCH on the way back home. She didn’t flinch when Lou Lou nearly rear-ended an SUV that was stopped on the highway for no apparent reason. She braked so fast Mary Lisa pictured her front end crumpling. Lou Lou was embarrassed, so stuck her head out the window and yelled, “You cheap putz! Put some ninety-two octane in that honker!”

The driver, a woman with carrot-red hair, yelled back some really inventive curses that had them thinking of horses and goats in a very different way. Mary Lisa shook her head. “I wonder what Elizabeth would say about this goat deal.”

“You’ll see her tomorrow, ask her. She’s flying in at about five o’clock.”

Mary Lisa sighed. “She’s going to chew my ear. Truth is I didn’t want to worry her, so I haven’t been exactly forthcoming about all that’s happened.”

Lou Lou pressed her foot on the gas pedal and swerved around a big Pathfinder, whose driver looked ready to spit nails until he saw Lou Lou up close and waved madly at her. “That’s okay, Mary Lisa, I told her everything.”