Nobody moved.
I looked around the spectators.
“This is the part people always get backward.”
“You see somebody weak.”
“You think the lesson is: be careful, because maybe they're secretly strong.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“The lesson is don't mistreat people because you think they're weak.”
Jake's friends had stopped smiling entirely.
Daniel folded his arms.
Jake stared at me.
Then finally said:
“I was messing around.”
“I know.”
“I didn't mean anything.”
“I know that too.”
“You made me look stupid.”
“No.”
His eyes lifted.
“You did.”
His face tightened again.
I continued.
“And that's good news.”
“How?”
“Because if you did it, you can stop doing it.”
He stared.
I held out one hand.
“My cane.”
He looked confused.
“You have it.”
I lifted it.
“The respect.”
The crowd stayed silent.
Jake's jaw tightened.
For a second, I thought he would walk away.
Instead he looked down.
Then said:
“I'm sorry.”
I waited.
He looked up.
“For taking it.”
I said nothing.
“And for laughing when you almost fell.”
Still nothing.
Jake exhaled.
“And for challenging you.”
I smiled slightly.
“That part I didn't mind.”
Several people laughed.
Even Jake almost did.
Then Daniel stepped closer.
“Jake.”
He looked at his instructor.
“You're done with today's demonstration.”
His face fell.
“Master Kim—”
“No.”
“But—”
“Your competition status is suspended at my school until we talk.”
Jake stared.
“Because I lost?”
Daniel's expression hardened.
“No.”
“Because you still think losing is the important part.”
Jake had no answer.
He walked off the mat.
His friends followed more slowly.
Neither laughed.
The festival resumed twenty minutes later.
Life does that.
Drama feels permanent while you're inside it.
Then somebody announces the children's breaking demonstration and people start buying lemonade again.
I went back to work.
That surprised people.
A woman approached.
“You're actually going to fix the cable box?”
“Yes.”
“But you were a national champion.”
“The cable doesn't care.”
She laughed.
I crouched beside the electrical enclosure.
My hip protested.
Daniel came over.
“Let me.”
“No.”
“You can barely bend.”
“Then enjoy the show.”
He stood beside me.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then:
“You shouldn't have done that.”
I smiled.
“You said the same thing forty years ago.”
“I was nineteen.”
“And wrong.”
“You had a better hip.”
“Fair.”
Daniel watched me tighten the cover plate.
Then he asked:
“Why did you accept?”
I stopped.
That was the real question.
“I almost didn't.”
“So why?”
I sat back on my heel.
“Because of how everybody laughed when I stumbled.”
Daniel looked toward the crowd.
I continued.
“Not because I was embarrassed.”
“Because Jake liked it.”
“He enjoyed making somebody smaller.”
Daniel listened.
“If I walked away, he'd tell himself I was afraid.”
“And tomorrow he'd do it to somebody else.”
Daniel nodded.
“So you taught him.”
“I reminded him.”
“Of what?”
I looked at him.