Chapter Fifty-Four

It’s Wednesday and it’s time for the next Chapter of Lost and Found.

I sure do hope all you wonderful readers of Lost and Found have the patience to “hang in there”. I know it’s just a few minutes of your time each week, but as I continue the writing of this story of mine, I realize this is a darn big book. I’m guessing when people come to the blog for the first time and see the Table of Contents they figure, “Nope! Too long for me! I don’t have time for this,” — and they go on to something else.

I just want those of you who are staying with me on this project to know how appreciated you are. If it wasn’t for you, I think I might decide to fold up my tent and move on. However, for reasons of my own — as you will see as the book continues — this story needs to be told — and you are a strong motivation for me to keep writing.

So, thank you!!

Be well — be in peace,

Ron Rink
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The Thursday night before the rumble, I told my mother I had to go to a play rehearsal at the school on Saturday. I figured telling her then would be to my advantage because they would be leaving for choir practice, and wouldn’t take the time to question me. Even though there were never any play rehearsals at night, I had used that excuse a few other times just so I could go hang out with the gang. My parents were always so focused on their church activities they rarely paid much attention to what I was doing on those nights, or any other night, for that matter. Picking their choir night to tell them about Saturday worked, because they didn’t question me at all.

During the week before the rumble, Billy and I met at his house after work each day to practice. Billy had told me the week before how fighting in a rumble was different from fighting just one guy alone. He said, “When you’re in a rumble, you need to make sure you keep the advantage. Don’t worry about getting the guy down. You want to make sure you hurt him before he hurts you. Get him on the defensive. Make him want to run away from you.”

“Yeah, because if I get him down and start stomping him, one of his guys is going to be jumping me, right?”

“Right! You gotta keep your eyes on what’s going on around you all the time. You don’t wanna get attacked. And some of our guys might be in trouble and need help.”

Billy and I discovered I wasn’t quite big enough to handle a chain properly. The chains were cut into manageable lengths, but when I tried to swing one of them, it threw me off balance. I was getting bigger all the time, but I still wasn’t heavy enough to compensate for the weight of the chain being swung. Being able to keep balanced was important, so we abandoned using a chain. Billy found me some brass knuckles and a piece of an old baseball bat he had cut off with a saw.

He showed me how to use the knuckles. Instead of swinging in a normal roundhouse manner, it was more of a hard, thrusting jab into the person’s face. It was like a lunge. Instead of pulling back on the swing, you kept following through so you were jamming the brass knuckles into their face with your body weight behind them. “Aim for the nose,” he said, “and don’t worry about the blood when you hit him. These knuckles do a real job on a nose. He’ll be backing off in a hurry once you connect with these.”

The bat was carried in the hand without the knuckles. Billy showed me how the jab of the knuckles made the person jump back. The bat, being an extension of the arm, allowed you to still get in a good hit even though the person may have jumped back. So it was a sequence of jabbing with the knuckles, then swinging with the bat.

“Keep moving forward all the time,” Billy said. “Don’t forget, the other guy might be using a club, a chain, or knuckles too. If you keep moving into him, it’ll be harder for him to use his weapons on you.”

“What do I do if he’s using a chain?”

“Get your club working fast while you move yourself to the side of him and try to hit the arm holding the chain. Hit it with everything you have. You want to break his arm or wrist. Sometimes letting his chain get tangled with your club can make it so you can jerk your club hard and tear the chain right out of his hand.”

We also practiced using our knees into groins or kicks to the ankles to keep the other guy off balance. Billy showed me how the best way to get the quick advantage is not to wait to see what the guy is going to do, but to move in fast before he gets a chance to set up. Most everything that Billy taught me about fighting was based on the element of surprise.

During one of our practices, Billy suddenly pulled out his switchblade, popped the blade and began slicing at me. I found that I was immediately on the defensive, jumping back to avoid the blade.

“That could happen, Van. Most of the time the guys obey the rules, but if they’re getting beat, they might pull a knife,” Billy said.

“What do I do if that does happen?” I asked.

“The same thing you’d do with the chain. Get that bat swinging at his wrist or lower arm right away. Break the fucking wrist if you have to. Don’t try to aim for the knife; it’s too small a target. Go for the wrist. Swing hard. You need to get that knife on the ground. Don’t let the guy get in close to you. Keep the bat swinging as fast as you can.”

We continued with our practice each day after work. By Friday of that week, I felt good about being able to take care of myself in a rumble.
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http://www.buddhistbelief.com
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