Dawn of the Knight Read online

  Immediately, I started blitzing him with questions. But he just stood there quietly smiling at me while slowly shaking his head. After a moment he asked, "Are you done now?"

  I stopped talking.

  He continued, "Lance, I was once an operative for the United States government. Please don't ask me what agency I worked for and never ask me questions about any of my past missions. I took an oath of confidentiality in the interest of American National Security and I will never break it. The United States government invested millions of dollars in my training and I didn't see any point in letting it all go to waste after I retired. That's why I've chosen to pass it on to you. All that I've been teaching you over the years has the potential to one day possibly save your life, or at least give you an edge in a dangerous situation."

  I went to bed that night but my mind, inundated with curiosity, would not let sleep come easily.

  "How do you know Scott James?" I asked Sifu Lu Tang the next day at martial arts class. "I just found out that he was an operative for a secret agency of the United States government."

  "Scott was not just an operative," he thoughtfully replied. "He was the best agent in his department. By himself he rescued me from Lingyuan Prison. He brought me to the United States and from there he helped me to relocate to Canada. I owe him my life—as do many others. He is a great man."

  "Can't you even tell me a little more about yourself?" I asked Scott when he picked me up to bring me home.

  "I can tell you anything you want to know about me, but not about my missions or the agency I worked for. They're both classified."

  "But all this stuff you're teaching me—isn't it classified, too? Won't you get in trouble for revealing it to me?"

  "The information that I'm passing on to you isn't classified. Besides, my superiors are always monitoring me. They always know where I am, who I'm talking to, and…"

  "And what?"

  "I can't discuss it with you. You'll just have to take my word for it. But the US government can come and detain me anytime they feel like it if they thought I was engaging in prohibited behavior."

  "Well, how and why did you come to retire in Canada?"

  "One day I was at a stop-over at CFB North Bay Air Force Base. I had some time to kill and I decided to spend it in rest and relaxation. I fell in love with the area, with the scenery, and with the people. I decided that if I lived to retirement, I would come and reside here. I also bought a house in the Willowdale area for convenience's sake."

  My curious nature refused to give up on the desire to know about his missions however, and I tried to devise innocuous questions to try to siphon that information out of him.

  "Did you ever have to… kill anyone?" I asked Scott one day after target practice.

  "On any given mission there was always the possibility that someone might die," he replied.

  "I don't believe I could ever kill anybody."

  "I hope you're never in a situation where you have to make that decision,” he replied. “I honestly don't see it happening in your life," he continued with a reassuring smile. "But Lance, I never want you to follow in my footsteps. I never want you to pursue a career as an operative. Promise me."

  "I promise. But, why would you ask that of me?"

  He stared off in the distance for a while. Finally, he replied, "This world is ruled by evil people." There was heartache in his voice. "Greed, the lust for power and control, elitism, murder, and deceit are the dominant characteristics of the ones who are actually in control. I served those men and women for most of my life. I honestly thought I was serving my country, but in reality, I was only serving them. Now I'm nothing more than a prisoner." He slowly and sadly shook his head while walking back to the house.

  ***

  I flipped to the back of the book to examine a photo of me taken just last year when I was 17 years old. Peter Black invited me to go on a field trip with his high school class to visit Upper Canada Village—a re-creation of an 1860's Canadian village located in eastern Ontario. It all started when after a guitar lesson with his father, Peter started questioning me about my life.

  "Dude, what exactly do you do all day, anyway?"

  "I'm homeschooled. You know that. What do you think I do all day long?"

  "I think that you're chained to that guy you call your mentor. Aren't you just a little bit bored? I mean you live with him 24/7 in that cabin up in North Bay."

  "We're not in North Bay all the time. I live down here half the time. I'm not really bored. I do martial arts and I take guitar lessons with your father. Plus, there are lots of other things I do as well."

  "Oh, that's an unbelievable social life you have there, my boy," he replied sarcastically. "And apart from me, do you have any additional friends?"

  I said nothing.

  "What about girls? What's your love life like?"

  Again, I did not reply.

  "You need to get a social life and start going to school with me. You need to meet our primary reason for living—girls!"

  "No," replied Scott when I mentioned the idea of enrolling in public school. "I wouldn't be able to educate you the same way. Aren't you happy with your life the way it is? Haven't I been good and treated you fair over the years we've been together?"

  "You're the closest thing to a father I could have ever hoped for."

  "Then why do you now want to go to public school?"

  "I don't know. I guess I feel like I'm missing out on something. Plus, I want to be around people my own age. Peter Black invited me on a field trip that the eleventh and twelfth grade classes are going to on June 15th. That's in nine days. It's to Upper Canada Village. Would I be able to go along with him?"

  "Sure. I'll have your mother contact his school and get permission for you to go."

  "Also, tomorrow's my eighteenth birthday. I, ah… was wondering if for my birthday… I… you know… could get a tattoo?"

  "You want a tattoo for your birthday?" he replied while chuckling.

  "Yeah, lots of people have them. What's wrong with that?"

  "I didn't say there was anything wrong with it. What kind of tattoo do you want?"

  "Something cool and unique that no one else has. I want a tattoo that makes a statement as to who I am."

  "I'll take you downtown tomorrow and we'll shop around for one. Okay?"

  I excitedly nodded my head yes.

  However, after visiting several parlors, I didn't find any designs I liked. I was bummed out.

  "Let me check on something and I'll get back to you," said Scott.

  "Okay."

  The next day he drove me to Sifu Lu Tang's academy while saying, "You said you wanted a unique tattoo; a design that no one else has and that defines who you are. Yin will be able to give you that very thing."

  We entered the building and one of the senior students greeted us and led us to the private area in back. This is where I had first been lectured by my teacher over 11 years ago. There was a table set up with needles and containers of ink. I recognized it as the equipment used for the Tebori method of tattooing—a method where the ink is manually pushed under the skin by hand. I began to sweat.

  "Relax," said Scott. "It isn't as painful as you're now imagining."

  "I think I just changed my mind."

  "Just focus your mind properly like I taught you and you'll be fine," he replied reassuringly.

  Sifu Lu Tang came out to greet us accompanied by another unfamiliar Chinese man. As usual, I bowed to show honor and respect. He returned my bow.

  "You are one of my top students and you have honored me with your dedication, self-discipline, selflessness, and commitment to wushu. Today we are going to honor you. Please come over to the table."

  I did and he motioned me to sit down and then instructed me to lay my left arm on the table with the palm facing up.

  "There are two words I want you to always remember when you think of the teaching you have received here. They are honor and courage. These words in Chin
ese letters will be tattooed on your left arm and will be bracketed by the symbols of our school—the tiger and the dragon."

  He spoke to the man who had accompanied him and he in turn, began to make preparations. My stomach was in knots. I breathed deeply and followed Scott's advice—focusing my mind and banishing the thoughts of pain and discomfort. Hours later, I sported a beautiful tattoo on the inside of my left arm.

  "Scott has requested that we also use the same method to inscribe something on your right arm as well. I will let him explain."

  Scott looked at me and immediately became emotional. "Lance, amongst my original group—and there aren't that many of us left—we have a motto that was given to us by our group leader. He said, and I quote him, 'You operatives have received the finest training and instruction in the world. You're fully capable of being able to accomplish whatever goals and objectives we assign you. You have access to the best weapons and equipment available. But always remember this one thing. When you're out in the field on a mission alone; when you're trapped and facing overwhelming odds; when your assignment is to do the impossible; your mind is your greatest weapon. Your mind is your greatest weapon.' Lance, through the many years that we've been together, I have taught you countless things in order for you to survive in this world. But I too, want you to always remember what he reminded us about that day; that your mind is your greatest weapon. I have asked Yin if he would tattoo this motto on your right arm as a permanent memento. It will also be in traditional Chinese and will be accompanied by my agency's insignia—a blue stingray with a red barbed tail, circumscribed by gold stars."

  "What's the significance of that symbol?" I asked.

  "To put it simply and concisely, the stingray is adept at concealment in its environment. The red tail means it can draw blood if necessary. The stars are symbolic of the United States of America."

  For several hours I watched him etch this tattoo on the inside of my right arm. As I stared at the finished product I was happy. Both tattoos uniquely and concisely summed up my life.

  ***

  The day of the field trip arrived. For convenience sake, I had spent the night at Peter's house. We were now standing at the bus stop. This excursion was going to be a new experience for me and I was fairly nervous. On the ride to school I noticed a couple of girls who looked old enough to be seniors and who were sitting up front. They were occasionally glancing back in my direction and talking amongst themselves. Upon arriving at the school, I followed Peter to his homeroom. He introduced me to the teacher. After roll call the teacher introduced me to the class as a homeschooled boy that would be joining them on the trip. Then we all gathered in the gym to wait for the bus. While standing there alongside Peter, I again noticed several girls glancing in my direction and talking to each other. He also took note of it.

  "Dude, those girls are checking you out. What's up with that?"

  "I don't know," I nervously replied.

  "Go over there and introduce yourself to them, especially to that blonde. Her name is Kim Dowling. She's incredibly hot and currently available."

  "No way."

  "Eh? Go on, dude. She's eyeballing you and not even being subtle about it. I can tell. Now's your chance."

  I, however, was petrified and my stomach was in knots. At length we boarded the bus. Peter and I sat beside each other and Kim and her red-headed friend Leanna sat in the seats in front of us. On the drive up Kim turned around and smiled at me. Peter nudged me, but I ignored him. He nudged me harder. Then he stared at me like I was stupid. Turning to the girls he said, "Hi Kim. This is my friend Lance."

  "Hi," she replied while smiling at me. "Are you a new student, because I've never seen you in the school before?"

  "I… ah… I…"

  Peter shook his head in disbelief and remarked, "He's homeschooled and a little shy. He's been living up in the North Bay woods all his life and he's never actually seen a girl before. Please excuse him."

  Kim and Leanna both laughed hard and I stared at Peter angrily as my face turned red. Drops of sweat seeped out of my armpits. An hour and a half later we were at our destination and I was overjoyed. For the past 90 minutes I had done everything I could to avoid talking to or looking at Kim, and she had graciously complied with my wishes by ignoring me.

  "Man, you blew it," Peter remarked with frustration as we disembarked the bus. "With babes like that you don't get a second chance. Don't you know how to act cool? Don't you even know how to talk to a girl?"

  I said nothing as I stared at the ground.

  "You have been up in the woods too long. You need to come to this school for your senior year and come into the real world. I noticed other girls checking you out too. I'm your best friend. I'll help you score."

  "I'd like to come to this school but Scott is against it. He wants me to stay with him so he can complete my training."

  "So he can complete your what?"

  "My… homeschooling," I sheepishly replied.

  "Man, you sound like you're in some kind of hellish boot camp. You have got to get away from him—now."

  "Maybe you're right. I'll talk to him about it when I get home."

  Chapter 4

  At the end of the day Scott came to pick me up from Peter's house. As we drove home I looked over at him and nervously asked, "Scott, I know we studied health and human reproduction but ah… what ah… advice can you give me… you know… about… girls?"

  He glanced over at me with a smile. "You saw some cute ones today, did you?"

  I slowly nodded my head yes.

  He continued to drive while deep in thought and then finally said, "Lance, I'm not going to try to dictate to you how to act in that area of your life. As for me personally, when it came to sex, I knew I never wanted to leave a hundred fatherless clones of myself all over this planet. I wished I could have had a wife and children, but my line of work prevented me from being around in one place long enough to settle down. Marriage and having kids was one of the things I sacrificed in the service of my country. Yet another good reason to not follow on my occupational path. As for you, that's a decision you'll have to make on your own. However, since you asked, here's my two cents. First, think of your own father. He used your mother solely for sexual gratification, got her pregnant, and then abandoned her. Was there any honor in that? Do you want to follow in his footsteps when it comes to your own relationships with girls? You have your whole life ahead of you. Would you want to see it or some girl's life shipwrecked by a single act of passion?

  Secondly, I believe you can have fun with and around a girl without having the constant thought in the back of your mind that you have to try and get her in bed. Girls are a lot of fun to be around. I'm sure you'll find that out soon enough.

  Finally, if you want to be treated with dignity and respect, treat others the same way. That includes members of the opposite sex. That's all the advice I can give you. Basically, all I would like to see in your life is that you behave honorably towards others—including girls."

  "Okay," I quietly replied while pondering his advice.

  "Oh yes, there's one more thing. If you ever meet a girl who you think would make a great friend, never have sex with her. If you do, things will never be the same between the two of you because you'll never be able to look at her the same way again."

  He continued to drive and I said, "Scott, I really want to go to public school for my senior year."

  "No, that's not a good idea. I haven't finished with your—"

  "I know, my training," I replied with irritation. "But I'm tired of all this studying and training. It's all I've done my whole life. I'm eighteen now and old enough to make my own decisions. I'm tired of being in your operative boot-camp and I now want to go to school with Peter."

  He did not say another word the rest of the trip home but I could tell he was not happy. The next time I met with Peter, we talked about my predicament. "You need to get away from him, at least for a while," Peter advised.

 
"But where can I go? Even if I go to your school he'll still be dogging me and always looking over my shoulder. And I'll always feel guilty knowing he never approved of it. Where's the enjoyment in that? I'd hardly be better off than I am now."

  "Let me think," he replied. After a few minutes he said, "I've got an idea. There's an option our school offers called the Student Exchange Program. It lets you study at a school in a foreign country. I know it's a little radical, but it's the only way I can think of to go to a public school and get away from him."

  "Study in a foreign country? I never thought of that before. Which one would you suggest?"

  "That's a no-brainer; the States. It's close enough so that we could easily stay in touch. Plus, American girls are…"

  "Are what?"

  "Simply put, amazing," he replied with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Think of everything you could possibly want in a girl and I guarantee you'll find it south of the border. Trust me."

  "But the States is huge. Where do you think I should go?"

  "That's a no-brainer too; the West Coast. The Beach Boys got it right. California girls are the most beautiful in the world."

  "California? I've always wanted to see the Pacific Ocean."

  "And what borders the Pacific Ocean?"

  "Shoreline?" I replied while shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head.

  "Beaches, you bozo! Beaches filled with tanned babes showing off their tan-lines. You've got to change your way of thinking if you're hoping to score big down there. Also, I wouldn't tell Scott about it. Get your mom to fill out the paperwork. I'll get you the program's list of schools that are located on California's West Coast. I won't be able to help you down there," he remarked with a sigh of regret. "But you'll figure out what to do. I have confidence." He grinned and gave me a high-five.

  When I mentioned it to my mother her first question was, "What does Scott think about it?"

  "I don't really care what he thinks about it."

  "Lance!"

  "Mom, he doesn't want me to go."

  "Why?"

  "Because he wants me to stay with him so he can finish my training."