An Invitation Or Two

Over the next week, I began to settle into a routine of sorts.m

Derrick and I ran a few miles every morning. He never understood my penchant for running barefoot. After work, we'd tussle in the back yard occasionally. Derrick spent a few hours at the gym house every weeknight, often coming home so sore I wasn't sure how he would get through work the next day.

I only went twice a week for Ed to teach me about knife battles. I focused on my lessons and didn't do any other fighting. I often went home with shallow lacerations from Ed's attacks. I was in awe of how fast Ed wielded a variety of blades as we practiced with everything from shivs to my hunting knife.

Mac, the big guy in charge, kept an eye on me. I could feel his eyes following my movements, watching my practice matches. Mac had something on his mind; he just wouldn't say what it was.

I became familiar with most of the faces of the guys who worked out and practiced there during my lessons. They grudgingly tolerated me because