Perfect Numbers

Everything was aligned.

I even checked with her secretary asking what kind of mood she was in today.

Almost a year of preparation, and my number were perfect. 

Not so high that it could be dismissed as an anomaly, just high enough to have certain people ask if it could be repeated again.

The conversation was light, pleasant, building to the ask when the phone rang.

I couldn’t leave the office, listening to the conversation as awkward, so I busied myself organizing my paper. 

Something didn’t work out and the game was in a few days. 

Certain people were going to be there and it apparently was now her problem.

She didn’t know what she was going to do until her eyes locked with mine.

I have somebody here who can do it, until they are back. 

She didn’t ask if I would do, it was more like if I wanted to continue working here I would do it, and my numbers did look promising, but we would have to talk about those after the game as she was now late for her next appointment.

It was an awkward fit and definitely not cut for somebody of my weight and height. 

My arms could barely fit as I held the head in my hands.

Waiting in the darkness of the hallway with a dozen or so others wondering to myself what my plan was.

I wasn’t given one so there was no plan which I don’t know if it made me feel better or worse.

Beyond the doors you could hear the crowd as the music played and thousands of feet stamped on the ground in a constant rhythm. 

Let me help you with that called out a voice as I lifted the head and snapped it on.

Sensory deprived, all I could feel was the vibrations of the crowd and the faint sound of loud music in the distance. 

Moments later there was a bright explosion of light before I was gently pushed forward and entered the arena.

Inside the suit and under the helmet I could not see or really hear, but I could feel.

The cheering of the crowd, clapping of hands and motion of bodies. 

I was on.

Awkwardly stumbling forward I must have been moving in the wrong direction as a gentle set of hands turned me around.

With the music building, even being unable to see, I could feel that thousands of eyes, both friendly and hostile were watching me.

It was time.

What was the plan?

Just do what I always do.

Fifteen years of intense budo discipline, sacrifice, and going beyond everybody else that stood across me, I silently asked for forgiveness and I would atone later if I made it out of here.

I started firing off punches and kicks, spinning and jumping as the music grew louder.

Something shadowy and fast darted in front of my head followed by another one moments later and a disappointing sigh from the crowd. 

I connected the next shadow that passed with a back-fist and the object bounced away to the cheer of the crowd yelling out,

One!

Two!!

Three!!!

Four!!!!

I punched and kicked them all until the crowd exploded and another set of hands pulled me away and sat me down on a bench. 

Trying to catch my breath I was smothered in hands and hugs from the crowd as my adrenaline dumped.

Next week when I checked in with the secretary before going in, I was told she was in a great mood and to go right in.