Part 1: Homecoming
Today is my graduation day. Today I leave the life I have known for four years behind me. Today I leave the military school my father exiled me to and return to civilian life. Today everything and nothing changes for me and I have grown enough to accept these facts. Today is my graduation day.
There is a figure kneeling on the soft pliant mat in the gymnasium. In his left hand rests a shinai a bamboo practice sword used in the martial art of kendo. His right hand rests on his right thigh. He is perfectly still and with every breath his universe becomes smaller and smaller; with each heartbeat his mind clears and thoughts cease to be. When all thoughts are banished and his universe has completely dissolved his right hand moves without thought and grips the shinai and simultaneously draws and cuts his unseen foe with flawless precision. The figure opens his eyes and standing before him just outside of the range of his strike in an elderly man unbent by his years due to his complete dedication to his art, the art of sword combat. I am that figure kneeling and standing before me is Master Akira Kobayashi last scion of the White Lotus School of Combat.
"Perfection Shaw-san you have taken and mastered my lessons despite your unfortunate disability," his English is accented but his pronunciation is very good.
The disability is that I was born American and began my lessons late in life. But Master Akira was the father I never had and I am greatly saddened by our immanent parting of ways.
"Thank you Sensei for your kind words," I say, slowly rising to my feet. "It has been both an honor and a privilege to have studied at your feet."
"You have made me proud and to know that at least a part of my teachings will live on through you makes the sting of our parting bearable."
"I have to go and prepare for the graduation ceremony."
"I know but before you go I have something to return to you," he says and reaches around his neck and takes off the chain and the strange key that hangs from it and holds it out for me. "You gave this into my keeping when you began your studies not sure if you should keep it or not. I feel it is time for you to discover what lock it opens."
"Thank you Sensei," I said bowing and taking the key and chain into my hand.
"I hope the lock opens doors to a bright future for you Nicholas," he said smiling a rarity for the stern faced sword master. "You had better go or you will be late and that would be a poor start to a new life goodbye."
I bowed low, turned and left for my dorm room. I jogged across campus and reached my room in less than five minutes, not too shabby for being bare foot and in my ghi. I stripped down and started my shower and checked out myself in the mirror and could see my father staring back at me. I had his hazel eyes, hawk-like nose and prominent chin. I saw very little of my mother in my features but knew that her part of me was my forgiving nature, artistic soul and the hunger to be loved. The academy had killed the first two aspects and the utter lack of communication with my father had put the last to rest a long time ago. Military school was like being exiled for reasons that haunt you and keep you up at night. But as the weeks became months and then years I ceased to care or hope. I knew after I stepped out on stage to receive my diploma I would turn to face the audience and besides friends and faculty there would be no other familiar faces. He blamed me for his wife's death and nothing was going to change that not even four years of separation. A cloud of steam filled the bathroom and I stepped into the shower and felt my muscles relax as the hot water did its work. I lathered up and soaped my hard body from top to bottom and applied shaving cream to my face and made sure it was impeccably free of hair. Then I did the same to my groin and balls making sure they were as smooth as my face. It was a habit I had started years ago and like all military habits were now second nature. I dried off and examined my nails and found them fit for graduation. I dressed and made sure my captain's bars were perfectly placed. I examined my reflection once more and found no flaw whatsoever!
As a unit we arrived at the field and assembled according to name and patiently waited for the ceremony to begin. I found myself secretly hoping that my father would be in the audience but I knew better and squashed the emotion before it took root. One by one we made our way up to the stage, received our diploma and left via the opposite side of the stage. Of course there were cheers from friends and family as each cadet was given their diploma, would anyone cheer for me I wondered?
"Captain Nicholas Shaw..." came the contralto voice of the Commandant then followed by a roar of voices, whistles and clapping... well I'll be damned!
I crossed the stage in a measured step as we were instructed, took the diploma in my left hand and shook his hand with my right. I turned to face the audience and everyone was on their feet showing how happy and proud they were of me... even my father! There he stood despite all hope and I nearly cried. I turned and headed off stage while the other students had their time in the limelight. When the last of us had received our diplomas the Commandant addressed the crowd.
"As you know it is custom for the Valedictorian and Salutatorian to speak for his class but this year will be different as these two students will make introduction to the student voted as the best representative of our school. Please welcome Sergeant Marcus Brady to the stage."
Another roar from the crowd and Marcus took the stage and when the noise died down he held up a piece of paper then crumbled it up.
"I had a nice speech all lined up for you about what the future is going to mean to our graduating class but Terry and I decided to share some memories of the past that greatly impacted our lives and why we achieved our academic success. When I was a freshman I was going to run away and never look back on this place. I was angry, tired and scared to death..."
I remember when I caught Marcus packing his things and ready to run, run to anywhere but here.
"... I never told anyone about it until now. A dear friend of mine talked me out of it and told me this. 'When a sword is being forged it is hammered, beaten and thrust into the fire over and over again. If the sword is taken out unfinished from the forge it is brittle and will surely break. But the secret is to bend with the blows and embrace the process so that in the end you are a gleaming three foot razor that all men will fear.' He was and is a huge fan of the Samurai sword and so thanks to his words I stand before you today tall, strong and razor sharp!"
The crowd rose to its feet and roared their approval. The Commandant took the podium once more and when silence had returned he spoke again.
"Thank you Marcus. Now our second speaker is Lieutenant Terry Wilkes please welcome him to the stage."
Terry took the stage in his ground eating strides and smiled brilliantly to the audience before speaking.
"I am the tallest member of my class," the crowed murmured at his six foot seven inch frame, "and has cost me nothing but grief because we have no basketball team here and I had no place to fit into until someone stepped in and found me a niche to call my own. Half way through our freshman year the school offered a special martial arts program to learn the art of Kendo or Japanese sword fighting. Only twenty students were chosen and I was not among them... well not until someone campaigned to the Commandant himself on my behalf. It wasn't easy for him to even get an appointment, he is a busy man our fearless leader, and the program was experimental but still he stuck his neck out for me and I was accepted as the twenty first student to Master Akira Kobayashi. After four years out of the original twenty one students only four endured to senior year and due to our success the program will continue. Kendo has taught me discipline, courage and the deepest meanings of honor and if not for that chance all those years ago I would not be the young man you see before you today."
The crowd once more got to its feet clapping, whistling and roaring. Once they calmed down Terry continued his speech.
"Here to present the first annual Kendo championship ribbon Master Akira Kobayashi."
The wizened figure strode across the stage with his preternatural grace and his usual mask of the stern teacher etched upon his face. He wore a kimono of finest golden silk adorned with white lotus blossoms.
"Ladies, Gentlemen and cadets four years ago I was contacted by this fine place of learning to teach the ancient art of Kendo. I was hesitant to be honest for most teachers of Japanese decent send students that had come from their respective countries back once they have achieved the rank of teacher. It is highly unusual for a Master to leave Japan and teach overseas. Saying that, I contracted for four years to see if any would embrace the art and take its deeper mysteries as a lifestyle and not just a sport to be played. I told myself that if just one did that I would renew my contract and continue on for another four years. It is my greatest honor and with deepest pride to announce the winner of the first annual Kendo championship ribbon Captain Nicholas Shaw."
