Margo watched him with a glow of satisfaction warming her all the way through. She’d scored big time and she knew it. She saw grudging respect in Malcolm’s eyes and open interest in several faces as they appraised her. Finally, she thought, finally, I do something right around here! Maybe now Kenneth “Kit” Carson would start showing her a little respect!
Flying high, Margo playfully lunged straight toward him.
Afterward; she wasn’t sure what he’d done, except that he turned and raised one hand while the other came down. She was never sure if she touched him or he touched her, but she was abruptly sitting on her butt clear off the edge of the mat on a cold, hard floor. The ache jolted all the way up her spine.
When Margo recovered from shock, all she could find to say was a wailing, “Ow!” Then she turned to glare at Kit. “You threw me off the mat!”
”No,” he disagreed with a tiny smile, “you threw you off the mat.”
HUH?
”Okay,” he said kindly, “ready to do a little serious sparring now?”
That was more than Margo’s bruised ego could bear: She charged in, launching another nice high front snap kick-only Kit’s head wasn’t there. It was down around her belt level and the left foot she was using for support was suddenly up a little higher than her left ankle used to be, and at least a foot forward, while her backside traveled rapidly straight toward the floor.
This time, Margo was the one who blinked involuntary tears. Owww…Malcolm was in her line of sight, grinning insufferably.
Kit Carson, damn him, said, “Well, don’t just sit there, kid. Come on, I thought you wanted to fight.”