LeOmi's Solitude (11 page)

The sunrise was beautiful. Bekka was already
there with bottled water, coffee and a muffin that she had cut in
half. They ate in silence until the sunrise was too brilliant to
look at anymore.

“Am I considered a bully?”

“Right to the point.” Bekka shook her head
and handed LeOmi a bottle of water. “First, good morning.”

Bekka had her notebook out and she had been
making notations. Bekka took a deep breath and released it.

“This is my contemplative place. I come here
in the morning to evaluate yesterday and to plan today. Alone time,
that I can figure out who I am. I suggest that you find a place
too. You may share my place, but I think that you will want a place
all to your own.” Bekka took in a deep breath and motioned with her
pen the horizon and the sunrise–smiling she mouthed the word
beautiful.

“You ask a question that you must answer, and
let me point out—if you didn’t ask, then that would mean it didn’t
matter to you whether you were or weren’t.” She took another deep
breath and resigned herself that the day was now in full swing. She
smiled at LeOmi, “When you interact with people you are distant–I
understand that you are afraid of being hurt. We all are, but as
you will see in the world around you, a lot of people have had a
difficult time. There are other parts of being a Magi other than
being able to defeat an opponent. Just look at Mr.
Diefenderfer.”

LeOmi was looking away, absentmindedly
counting the knots on the roots sticking up out of the ground and
then she painfully blurted out, “I don’t want to be a bully?”

“I understand. There are those who
consciously desire a purpose filled reason to their life. I am one
of those people. I want to learn all that I can and try to make
others just as happy as I am–if not more so. I am not happy just
dealing with what comes my way; I want to help contribute to make
good things happen. A bully is more interested in themselves than
others. They are focused on what they want.”

Bekka stowed her notebook and pen, and faced
LeOmi.

“I call it the Me Factor.” Bekka pointed to
herself, “That is to say that I would want everything to revolve
around what I want, instead of what is best for us all.”

“The Me Factor?”

“Just keep in mind that it is hard, if not
impossible to please everyone.” They both turned and looked at the
sunrise for a moment.

“You know what I do? I rationalize all sides,
evaluate process and outcome, and decide my role. That is what I
do.” She held up the notebook again.

“Why do you ask? Was it because of Slone Voif
and his friends?”

LeOmi nodded.

“You will find that there are many kinds of
people here at The Seventh Mountain. Not everyone wants to be here,
some students are required by their parents to be here for at least
one year. As you know, we have a trial year. Normally students get
here and find out that they do want to be here. They join right in
without another thought of not coming back next year. Some have a
difficulty in paying or doing the work, and there are other ways of
dealing with them, but all and all we have had a remarkable success
rate in teaching our students, and even though there is not
supposed to be a competition between the other schools—of course
there is, but as you know, we are the best.” Bekka smiled brightly,
“We shine.” Her bright blue eyes sparkled in the early morning sun
light.

“That’s not pride or bragging, that is just
fact.”

“Now as to your question, you have doubts or
else you would not have asked.”

LeOmi nodded again.

“Some other questions you may have in your
head are: ‘Why are they forming the group, and why do they want me
to join?’ Am I right?”

LeOmi nodded again.

“As you may have guessed, some of those
students in Slone Voif’s group are here on the ‘let’s just see how
it goes’ basis. I can’t tell you who or why, but that may help
answer some of the questions bouncing around in that brain pan of
yours.” Bekka gave LeOmi a gentle, tap, tap, tap, on her forehead.
They both nodded and smiled.

“Now I need to do some counselor stuff, and
you need to do some student stuff.”

They stood and started stretching.

“During Orientation, all students meet in The
Oasis for morning plans at seven a.m. There are designated sections
for counselors and students, and then after you are chosen into
your tribes, you will sit by tribe.”

They jogged back into the school, just in
time for a shower and The Oasis by seven.

There were color coded tables in the center
of the room. So LeOmi sat at the far end of a booth near the door,
her black and white tipped spiked hair proclaiming her
personality.

Slone, Ricky, Keith, Ralph, Adolph, Bruce,
and Albert Spencer came in just in time for the meeting to begin.
They saw LeOmi and came over to her booth and the nearest
table.

She would not let them sit on her bench
seat—she would not be trapped by them. Slone laid his sword on the
table arrogantly displaying his weapon, and then he sat across from
her at her booth.

“We will meet the same place for lunch today.
If you have any ideas that you would like to share with the group,
today is the best time to bring them.”

LeOmi simply stared at him.

“I will talk with Mark Young today. Is there
anything you want me to ask him?”

“What?” LeOmi looked at him in surprise. “Why
would I want to ask him anything?”

“No real reason, I just thought I would
ask.”

Slone stood and collected his sword. The
others stood also. They went down a few tables and stopped and
spoke with some more students who were having breakfast, the
entourage performing the same scripted motions as they made their
way around the room.

“Well, that was bizarre.” Bekka sat down
across from LeOmi.

“Yes.”

LeOmi leaned forward and whispered, “I
remember some of my dream about Mark.”

“Good.”

“It is still vague…I still remember the staff
most of all, but there is something else, something dealing with
the future. Have there been different dreams or have they all been
the same?”

“As far as I know, they have all been the
same. It will come to you, don’t worry, all things in time.”

LeOmi nodded.

“Now today you will pick up your signet. It’s
ready and waiting for you. You also need to go by and speak to Ms.
Vanmie to see where you will be placed in her classes. Do that
before you order any books. By the way there is a used books
section in the book store. You can get some really good deals if
you don’t mind having previously owned books. To me it is no
different than a library book.” Bekka pulled out her notebook, “I
don’t think there is anything else.”

“If you were me, would you meet Slone’s group
for lunch?”

“Me?” Bekka shifted and said, “I can’t answer
that. It is a decision that is up to you. You and you alone.” She
stood, “But I do suggest you go to Ms. Vanmie’s shop. It isn’t open
yet but she is probably training now. She does her training in the
morning, were you to get there early, you could watch her in
action.”

“Got to go, we will talk later. Have a great
day.” With a wave, Bekka went to another table on the other side of
the room. There were other counselors and other students doing the
same. LeOmi pulled out her map and plotted the path she would take
to the sword shop.

* * *

Bekka sat in the waiting room at the
Chaplin’s Office for a short time, listening to his eight a.m.
appointment. There was no receptionist, and the appointment book
was lying open on the counter. The door opened and the two men
shook hands.

Chaplain Jones said, “Let me know how it all
goes.” He was a handsome man, tall with blond hair and blue eyes,
the eyes of a Magi. He seemed a little unnerved when he saw her
sitting and waiting, in his waiting room.

“Hello, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

He gently steered the other man out the door
and called out to him, “Let me know.”

A final wave and he pulled the door shut.

“Is everything all right?”

“I just need to talk to you about LeOmi.”

Chapter 6

Better Trained Leaders Make Better
Trained Soldiers

“Vanmie Swords” was over the lintel. A stack
of books was in the window,
Simple Combat Strategy and
Tactics
by Joramina Vanmie. The door was open, so LeOmi stepped
into the shop.

There was a katana on a bamboo stand sitting
on a display table just as she entered the shop. There was a plaque
on the stand and its inscription read “Without desire for winning,
training is nothing.”

Ms. Vanmie stepped around the counter. “But
you must ask yourself, ‘Who is my opponent?’”

Her voice was low, almost a whisper. She
looked LeOmi up and down, and then she rested her hand over the
katana’s finely wound leather hand grip.

“There is beauty in the sword as it sits here
and there is also beauty when it is being wielded.” She removed the
sword from the display and pulled the sheath back a bit to display
the engraving on the sword itself.

“Do you read Japanese?”

LeOmi shook her head as she took a step back
towards the door.

“This sword’s name is basically, ‘My Loving
Opponent.’ It was made by a sword master. Do you desire it?”

Still admiring the beauty of the sword LeOmi
said, “I have a sword.”

“You do? But can it be of such craftsmanship
and beauty?” Ms. Vanmie slid the sword back into its sheath and
turned to face LeOmi, “Did you know that it takes ten days to
polish a sword like this? It is polished by a succession of stones
and polish. It takes time, care and patience. Sometimes it doesn’t
go the way a sword master wants it to. Sometimes, imperfections can
change the shape of the other parts. Everything is made up of
parts, all working together to become a whole. That works with this
Katana and it works with me and you.” She went over and closed the
door then turned the sign to CLOSED.

“LeOmi?” Ms. Vanmie’s gentle whisper of a
voice called for her to follow. “I spoke with your counselor and
she has informed me that you have some combat skills. She seems to
think that we can get along well together, what do you think?” As
she spoke she motioned LeOmi into the back room. There were tables
of riotous, wooden practice swords.

“I got along well with my last teacher.”

“I am your Combat teacher here. Defend
yourself.” Ms. Vanmie grabbed a wooden riotous baton from the
closest table, and LeOmi did the same.

They began circling the room, each using
their baton to make figure eights to limber their muscles.

“Let’s size you up, shall we.” They continued
circling.

“Just since you have come into my shop, I
have learned—” Ms. Vanmie faked a lunge and began circling the
other way around the room.

“Street-kid smarts, kendo style fighting,
French kick boxing. You have a notice-me type fixed attitude. Bold,
brilliant, confident, unconventional, brave, a skilled fighter, yet
untrusting, a loner, angry, quiet...a listener unless provoked,
thinks most people are weak.”

LeOmi lunged forward, executing the perfect
one-two-three: slash-turn-slash. The deadly dance is what Henry
would call it.

Ms. Vanmie was fast, evading, not
countering.

“Most children, outside our school, the soft
ones, need to be entertained. You are not one of those are
you?”

LeOmi clashed riotous with Ms. Vanmie and
then each in turn evaded the slashing stroke from left shoulder
down.

“Aw, basic ballet too. Rond de jambe. With
attitude!” Ms. Vanmie mockingly performed a pirouette, while
lunging and performing her own perfect one-two-three:
slash-turn-slash; LeOmi evaded just as easily.

“When I was growing up, we entertained
ourselves: books, cycling, swimming –no time for excessive shopping
and drugs. I guess you have seen it all though?”

The pirouette again, “En Garde,” followed by
a distracting toppling of a table of riotous. LeOmi narrowly missed
the lunge of Ms. Vanmie’s baton toward her left shoulder.

Angrily, LeOmi dived, tucked and tried to
roll past the strewed riotous only to find Ms. Vanmie’s riotous
connect with her chest as she regained her balance. Ms. Vanmie had
kicked the pile of riotous into LeOmi’s path, making the floor like
a layer of pick-up sticks.

“Ah, your tombé en avant has failed you.” Ms.
Vanmie lowered her riotous. “Am I getting you riled up yet?”

LeOmi dropped her baton, searching for a
clear spot to place her hands and feet.

“Quick to anger. Remember what I said about
the parts. Anger helps you focus, but leverage is the key to
martial arts.” Ms. Vanmie reached a hand down to help LeOmi up. She
didn’t take it.

“One without the other, be it physically or
mentally, will make you lose before you begin.”

LeOmi stood up and brushed herself off,
looking at her hands and still feeling the sting from the force
expelled by both of them.

“Your size can be a hindrance or an asset,
depending on how you use it.” Ms. Vanmie grabbed armloads of
riotous and placed them on the table. “You may choose where you
will fit into my classes.” She raised her hand to sarcastically
stop LeOmi from speaking, “But not today. I will speak to you or
Bekka later, depending on what you choose.” Ms. Vanmie walked to
the door and turned the sign, she swung the door open.

LeOmi picked up her back pack and headed for
the door.

“LeOmi. Can you turn back an arrow once it is
shot by a strong archer?”

LeOmi stopped and looked at her.

“You can, if you know how.”

LeOmi scooted past Ms. Vanmie without giving
a response. She heard Ms. Vanmie calling after her, but she
couldn’t stop, one foot in front of the other, the calming rhythm
of running, the release of being alone. Yet she heard Henry,
“Have I got you riled up yet?”