Page 60 of Crowe
I held my breath and waited to see what he said, but he just smiled at me like it was no big deal. Like the idea that there would be time for us to do things after was a forgone conclusion.
“I think that’s a great idea. Hawk and Tucker teach regular classes here in the training area, or we can do it out at the camp one-on-one.” He winked at me. “I like the sound of that best.”
“Me, too.” I closed my book. “So will it just be us today?”
“No, Bobby’s going to be there. I asked him to come in to join us. He helps me out at the camp with similar drills, so he knows the routine. I want someone to demonstrate the grabs so I can watch your technique.”
I considered that. “So your plan is to have Bobby grab me while you watch.”
“That’s the plan, yes.”
“And you’re comfortable with that.” I raised one eyebrow and waited for his answer.
He gave me a look that suggested the question was beneath both of us. “Bobby is a kid and completely professional.”
“He isn’t a kid, but I know he’s a professional. I’m just teasing you.”
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Julius. Now go get changed. We’re going in twenty minutes.”
I stood up and gave him my sauciest smile. “Yes, Daddy.”
He rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fucking Julius.”
I just laughed and went to change my clothes.
The Three Bears gym was on the second floor of the building and was a full training facility with a padded mat area taking up most of the floor, a weight section along the far wall, a heavy bag hanging from the ceiling in the corner, and enough natural light coming through the high windows to make it a place a person might actually want to spend time. I’d gone a few times when I was here before, but I hadn’t bothered to come down here since I’d been back.
Bobby was already there, stretching out on the edge of the mat.
“Hey,” he said.
I gave him a little wave hello.
Jackson set down the bag he’d carried and looked at me. He was in a plain gray t-shirt and dark training pants, and he looked, as he often did, like someone who’d been built specifically forthe task at hand. I was in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, because that was the closest thing to training clothes I’d brought with me from Houston.
“We’re going to start with the basics,” he said. “Stance, movement, how to create distance. Nothing complicated. The goal isn’t to make you a fighter. The goal is to give you enough that if someone grabs you, you have options.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Like I said, Bobby’s going to be the attacker, but first I want to go over the moves so you can see them.”
Jackson was a good teacher. Which didn’t surprise me since he did this all the time out at his camp. I’d never seen him in action before, though, and it suited him. He explained things once, clearly, and then showed them. After that, he watched while I tried to replicate them and corrected what needed correcting without making me feel foolish for needing the correction.
The stance came first. Feet shoulder-width apart, weight slightly forward, hands up but not rigid. He walked around me slowly while I held it, making small adjustments… a hand on my hip to shift my weight, two fingers on my elbow to raise my guard.
“Relax your shoulders,” he said.
I relaxed my shoulders.
“More.”
I tried to relax them more. His hand came to the back of my neck briefly, a firm press that somehow released tension I hadn’t known I was holding, and my shoulders dropped another inch.
“There,” he said.
“We’re going to start with breaking a grab. You ready, Bobby?” He’d been sitting on a mat off to the side watching us, but he hopped up and joined us.
First, the two of them demonstrated the various ways a person might be seized on the wrist, upper arm, and around the body from behind. Then he had Bobby show me each counter move, talking through the mechanics while he did it. Lastly, he stood behind me while I ran through them myself.
