On my fifth try, Father Michael McMahon was waiting for me, this time to make sure nothing went wrong. However, after the first few metres of spiral ramp that led to the tower’s roof, I noticed a door to my right and opened it cautiously. Father Mac yelled a warning, but I slipped through it anyway.
Inside were men dressed in white gi’s, training with bo staffs. They looked serious, and I had the idea they would put up a better fight than the golden saints and imperial guards. For some reason, I was carrying my SMASH pencilcase/file. I found their master- a man dressed in a blue gi and yelling instructions as he paced through the sparring fighters. I recognised him to be Mr Gillies, but I didn’t let that stop me.
"14!" he yelled as the class thrust their poles forwards.
"15!" he screamed, their staffs bursting into flame as they cast some sort of spell.
"16!" I cried, bringing my file down upon my maths teacher.
He saw me coming and dodged it lightly. He was a very high level, and very quick, dropping back into a tae-kwon-do stance. Normally, when you attack someone in a room full of people, everyone will rush to kill you. I was expecting having to fight my way out of a room of highly trained martial artists, but Gillies raised his hands, gesticulating, "You and me."
"Wait wait wait," I said, unzipping my file. "Weapon," I explained, searching. The best I had was a pacer (green), so I figured I was better off using the case as some sort of shield. I unzipped it like a venus flytrap, holding it to my chest and waiting to catch his punch. It didn’t come. He moved so fast I barely felt the blow as his foot connected with my stomach, knocking me out of the ring. Mr Gillies had no weapon; he was too agile to need one.
"You’re very fast!" I exclaimed delightfully in awe. "I closed the case after you kicked me!"
He took no notice and got ready to attack again. I took the offensive this time, as a test of how fast I was compared to a master. Snap kick, hurricane fists, knee to the stomach and a vinga-chiva. I landed all of them before he could react and he hunched over suspiciously. I knew my attacks had no strength behind them and I thought he was feigning, but then I realised he was panting for breath. Suddenly confident, I dropped down low to sweep his feet out from under him and I snapped my leg out, kicking my wall. It didn’t hurt- my foot was wrapped in my blanket, although it opened the blinds a little letting light into the room. My heart was racing at a dangerously high rate from the adrenaline, but it slowed over the following minute or so. With some regret I rolled onto my back to try and continue the dream, but alas, my body was in alert mode. Ah well- it was fun while it lasted.