Haymakers: Part II

By Will Berkeley

Haymakers is how Tae Kwon Do delivered Mister Berkeley to Brown University. This is Part II. We pick up where we left off. Monster vs. Monster.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Will Berkeley
• Release date: Sep 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311118202

Will Berkeley

I am a Boston based fiction writer. I used to be a black belt in Tae Kwon Do which I earned from Billy Blanks before Tae Bo made him famous. That black belt was stolen along with my mountain of martial arts weapons in a break-in. You didn't hear about it on the news because I wasn't home. Never too late to roll weapons especially on crooks that steal black belts. What the hell! You can take everything else. You didn't earn that. Avi is me. Chris Sargent Photography credit.

Book preview

HAYMAKERS: PART II

Published by Will Berkeley

Copyright 2015 Will Berkeley

Chapter

The female monster must be pissed. The male monster is not only kicking himself out of Tae Kwon Do. He is kicking his other half out too. She has to go out a loser. He goes out a winner. I can’t wait until those two start dating. They’re our President and First Lady. They will pop out a Tae Kwon Do ghost for us. I could go for a Kung Fu baby. But no Karate kid. Those two are not marketers of martial arts. They are way too scary for Hollywood. The sex that they will have will be wicked! Pure awesome.

We’re talking witch trials.

The Karate King is way wooded these days.

His wood is wood.

I have kicked him in it. It hurt my foot. The Queen of Karate is bumming. That bum has seen plenty of hits though. No penis escaped without being broken. Not that he hasn’t had his fair share of Kung Fu hookers. Samurai sluts the two of them. They do anything that fights. Pretty soon the only two that they haven’t collectively hit in the Karate Kingdom are themselves. It will happen for pure variety. Then they will get hooked on the violence of it.

People talk about our future sex life like it has already happened. Those two are going to fall hard. So hard. It’s going to be glorious. But we have no clue. We figure everything can be contained in the monster box. Keep that monster box nailed shut.

It’s absolutely inconceivable that I would date my personal nemesis from The Evil Empire. The Evil Empire being Billy Blank’s first Tae Kwon Do school. The Nation does not date The Evil Empire. His first collection of widow makers. He got some pretty unholy results with the African American population of Eire, Pennsylvania. I would have probably called it quits after assembling that crew.

My work is done here. I can’t possibly assemble a more noble culture of warriors in The New World. That’s what I would have said if I were Mister Billy Blanks. But he took it right to where America was started. He plucked all these black and white devils out of the witchy woods of New England. Created Jackson 5. And one Champion. So there we are. The white hats and the black hats. For the audience. What little they know. We’re all in love with each other. Madly in love. And trying to fight it back is impossible.

You have no problem with some girl that does forms from The Evil Empire. Or one that can fight her way into the top fifteen which is some hazy mess which nobody is clear about. You’re actually quite content deep behind enemy lines on that outing. You steal a few horses from out of the enemy camp for your comrade that you share your life with. Or vice versa. Clothes and beds are interchangeable with that black boy that is your life witness. You’re his witness too. Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend too? You’re the same person. You would not deny yourself a girlfriend. Why should he?

Your ex-girlfriend can be my new girlfriend. And vice versa. You’re still sworn enemies though! You and he can live together is the point. Having mixed feelings is nothing new on the Tae Kwon Do road. Some of us are mixed race. Some of us are just plain mixed up. Some of us put the two together. Or we date up. That gets lively. But my warrior pal that I share my life with and vice versa. We are the model of excellence. We have buried our differences. I even want on Jackson 5. He has taught me valuable life lessons that I carry with me to do this day. Stay Jackson. Motown to the max! Michael rules.

We have both actually made a very nice life for ourselves because we are so different. We show all our cards. Better sunset’s ahead, brother. Too bad we didn’t get any Karate hippies on the card tonight. Not even a Kung Fu hooker. You can forget the flowers. Even I am not desperate enough for one of those. Tae Kwon Do spouses are out of our reach right now. Warriors like us cannot settle down and get married. Too many samurai sluts in the Tae Kwon Do Sea. Then you punch fists. I mean hard too. You are warriors. But you do not date The First Lady of The Evil Empire. Her whole mission in life is to take you down. Not even Michael wants to date her. You can forget a sack ride with her. He has to fight her too. Even if you have to begrudgingly share beds with her which happens all the time. You don’t touch her short of consoling her. Or showing her that you have warrior love. That’s okay. You can maybe slip up a little bit. You hug her a little too long. Maybe lock lips with her. A quick survey of those astonishing breasts. You are not a totally inhuman monster. But you shove that monster right back up where he belongs. She does the same. There are limits here, people. You can’t touch me with those monster hands of your tonight. I could not even stand a backrub. I will pounce. You won today. That’s why you are entertaining the idea. I lost. I want nothing to do with you. If we ever have a draw this stalemate is over. I agree. Fortunately one of us won’t let it happen. Good night my monster. I love you. Lights out. I love you too.

Chapter

We have been battling for trophies since Kung Fu sashes when we first rubbed elbows out on the road. I can’t even stand her mother. She is this gloriously white woman. She cannot be any whiter. She is like the finest tooth in the whitest mouth of white America. Capped, polished and Hollywood white. I don’t think she even understands race period. Full stop. She’s just wandering around on the magical mystery tour. God bless her. I wish I was like that. The monster calls her Cannon Fodder.

My momma was Cannon Fodder for The Civil Rights Movement.

Don’t be so mean to your momma. I like her.

Except tournament time.

How can I like her then?

Cannon Fodder tries to give me oranges on the tournament circuit. She’s The Orange Lady. She probably inherited half of Florida. There is no other explanation for her optimism. And the nicest lady ever. You look like you need Vitamin C, William. I don’t want you getting run down and getting a cold. I am like.

You understand that training out in the cold in the parking lot is one of my traditional punishment at The Nation?

I have an actual parking block!

That is Mister Berkeley’s parking block. Rain or shine. Snow or sleet. He gets sent out there in bare feet if his grades drop. We want him to get the flu! Mister Berkeley needs to be sick to figure out what he did wrong. The flu would have killed him in Ohio if it could have. He fought all day even though he kept losing. The flu is not a problem for him. He is his problem.

You know that I cannot accept an orange from you. Warrior code.

I am like where the hell is Isaac Hayes? That’s what we all call her father. The monster named him that and it stuck. I need him right now. I’ll tell him he is a kindly black gentleman and he can dress me down. Furiously tell me that he is a proud colored man. How those two got together remains a mystery to this day. His fist was way up in the air and she somehow pulled it down. Put an orange in. Maybe that’s all it takes for love.

I don’t know where my daughter comes from. My husband is such a gentle person.

You married a Black Panther. Is what I think. But I say nothing. Which is what I want to marry. Just a female one.

I was hoping you could make me understand. She’s standing there with a housewife helmet. Momma get away from him. That’s what my monster would say way back then. Don’t get inside his head. I want a fair fight.

That’s how close all of us were even our most dreaded nemesis that we had fought viciously since Kung Fu sashes when we first went out on the road. That was two martial arts studios in the rearview for the both of us! We actually went out on the road to discover each other. Rumors had drifted all the way to our Kung Fu pasts. Apparently there is another child martial arts prodigy on this very coast. Well, we should meet. I would love to fight her. And I will tell you this. She will want to spare me if she is as you say, a child martial artist prodigy. Otherwise what you say is not fact. Mother, gas up the Cadillac! Kung Fu Tournament in upstate New York. The biggest one the East Coast has ever seen. That’s how big. There is a girl that I have to meet. We’ve actually already exchanged letters. She is legitimate just like me. We have exchanged Kung Fu pictures. Her sword work appears superior to my own. She wrote that Eire has no appeal for her when she is not doing swords.

Chapter

Mister Berkeley is not living with us except for banishments. We have to cool it on the swords. We fight all day and into the night when we are together. So don’t start on that again either, Momma. The monster is dressing down Cannon Fodder for wanting to have me live with them. We cannot live together fulltime. We can only do it when it’s called for under warrior code. It just gets too hot sleeping in the same bed. That’s why we insist on the swords.

Mister Berkeley’s problems with the bullies are not that bad. His problem is getting caught. I drove thirteen hours by myself to see what was going on with his bullies. He is fine. He has it beyond covered.

I told you not to come. That’s what I said. I actually begged you.

You cannot be trusted. Monsters need to be checked upon.

I cannot argue that.

You drive down on me in Eire all the time!

You need to get out of my business.

Stay out of mine!

Not going to happen.

Well, there is your answer.

Monsters are attached at the hip.

So it goes.

Chapter

Cannon Fodder wanted to free me of my oppression from the witchy woods of New England. Give me real freedom in Eire, Pennsylvania! She wants me to live with them fulltime!

I am flabbergasted.

You should really think about having Isaac and I raise you. Eire would be such a good place for you.

I am like!

My life will be nothing but sexual frustration and sword fights!

I will think about it.

Isaac really likes you.

I am like!

Isaac wants me up in a shed behind the house!

The feeling is mutual.

You think about it.

I will.

Not on your life!

One quick question William.

Oh my head!

Why will you not let me go?

I am the most brutal thing in this auditorium. And you just march on that?

Of course. How can I help you Cannon Fodder?

Why is my daughter such a savage? She asks me at the point of tears. Do you think it’s because she’s biracial.

I am like!

Bob Marley was biracial. But I say nothing. Warrior code.

My monster had just absolutely decked this girl that must have bought her black belt out of Black Belt Magazine. Paid the Postman cash on delivery and she was a black belt. There was no other explanation for how she got into the ring with my monster.

She’s showing remorse. That’s what I say. Warrior code lowered.

No she is not.

Okay. You’re right. She doesn’t care. And I don’t care. The sign on the door says Tae Kwon Do tournament today. Black belt full-contact fighting. We’re as advertised.

We’re monsters. Everyone knows that. I plan to kick her ass if that’s any help. I’m going to blow holes right through her God willing now.

Why? She wants to know why?

We don’t know why ourselves. But I’m beating her tonight. No more oranges. You are a very nice lady. But I can’t associate with your oranges come tournament time. I’ll be up on the stage thinking about your generosity when I should be wrecking your daughter.

Oh I’m not worried about her. Look what she did to that other girl. They called an ambulance.

I agree. It’s just an expression. But that’s my monster in her tender years. We’re one in the same person. Interchangeable in everyone’s minds but our own. We can live together in each other’s houses during periods of banishment. We just have to sword fight to keep the sexual frustration at bay. But come tournament time. We have to keep our distance. We can easily sleep in the same bed after if we must. We actually quite like it. We both feel safe. But don’t tell anyone. Two monsters is way more formidable than one. And they have major warrior love. Keep it quiet. They think they are falling in love. All the way back then they would talk about it after lights out.

God bless America and lights out!

I think I am falling in love with you.

Me too.

What are we going to do?

Nothing for now.

Give us a reasonable kiss and God bless America.

Monsters had merged with America.

We viewed ourselves as one now.

The Monsters of these United States of America.

Good night and God bless!

Chapter

Trophy holders like us are not good dating material. We used to sit in the same bed and discuss this after lights out. You have to get past Jackson 5 to even consider a love affair. We liked the team of hicks from Maine for scorching love affairs. They couldn’t even medal. None of them. But they could knock you out of the tournament early if you didn’t take their Eastern Bloc, unreformed North Korean Tae Kwon Do or whatever it was seriously. Plus they were the most fun. They were the original Karate hippies. They were the ones that merged The Summer of Love with The Samurai Sun. Taught us that The Grateful Dead was great fighting music. Do forms during Space. My monster and I loved fighting to Throwing Stones. It was better than The Rolling Stones. We were very particular about our Grateful Dead. We liked 1977 for their best year.

We didn’t really understand the Grateful Dead. What was there to understand? Our opinion was it was good fighting music. It went great with the bonfire and moonshine those Maine hicks made themselves too. Welcome to the party! All new arrivals we try to throw in the fire during Fire on the Mountain! That’s the monster’s song.

There’s a dragon with matches that’s loose on the town!

Take a whole pale of water just to cool him down!

Fire! Fire on the mountain!

We used to scream that. A huge fire raging. Gallons of moonshine. The monsters are fighting. Not exactly probably what the Grateful Dead intended. But take it up with our Fat Man if you have a problem. That dude rules with an iron fist! King of Karate that guy. He also fronts our band of merry warriors. A bit of a Karate Kingdom out in the woods. Instruments include flaming tree branches. Kind of a hard leader to reason with it. But we love him. Our Fat Man is good enough for us. You can keep yours. What did we learn out