Part 13 (1/2)
”Aw, that's too bad. My coach is in touch with who's looking to cast what project.” Dawn turned around, strolled away, all coy.
”If you're into that.”
Suddenly healed, Kiko tested his shoulder. ”I suppose I could stand to master more skills. Are you sureyou'reup for a workout?”
Excellent. ”What are you? A dandelion? I've fenced the day after a bookshelf landed on me duringSlay Shay.”
”Yeah?”
”Yeah. Unless one of my limbs has fallen off, I'm all over a bit of strenuous effort.”
Well, that certainly did it for the male of the house. Kiko accepted the tossed gauntlet, donned a pair of new tennis shoes and sweats-which, of course, had pockets big enough for a small crucifix and a cell phone. Like Dawn, he was carrying a gym bag to hide the gun. They still had to get her registered, so flas.h.i.+ng the weapons around wasn't on the agenda.
Off they went to the studio, leaving the old-school seventies cheer of his apartment complex and traveling to Gower Street.
Once inside the studio, nostalgia hit Dawn with the overpowering stench of stale sweat. The echoes of shoes scuffing the gymnasium-wood floor and steel clas.h.i.+ng against steel surrounded the masked fencers. They were dressed in white jackets and wielding their blades, sparring.
Kiko was wearing his d.a.m.ned sungla.s.ses, and Dawn motioned for him to take them off. Using them inside was dopey.
”Ditch your shades,” she said.
”Nope.”
”Listen, if you're Jack Nicholson, you get to wear sungla.s.ses anywhere you want. If you're Joe Blow, Struggling Actor, you look plain pathetic. Everybody who thinks theyshouldbe somebody wears them inside. Taking them off at this point is the new cool.”
She put her hands together in prayer. ”Please do the right thing.”
”Nope.”
Dipak, a tall, lean man in his late thirties who hailed from Calcutta, welcomed Dawn with the relish of a long-lost cousin, hugging her and ”where have you been”ing her. After they caught up, he turned to Kiko, dark brown gaze a.s.sessing the little person's physical attributes.
”I suppose we will need children's gear for you.” As Kiko opened his mouth to respond, Dawn rushed to cover the possible awkwardness. G.o.d knew when Kiko would decide that he'd been offended.
”We can rent equipment here,” she said smoothly, as if continuing a conversation. ”Come on, let's gear up.”
She pulled him away, waving to Dipak.
”I will be back to coach you.” He donned his mask and moved on to two foil fencers who were hooked to a machine that beeped when one of them hit their body target and scored a point.
”I've always wanted to be a pirate,” an unaffected Kiko said as they went to the equipment room.
Happy Kiko. And it was good.
They picked out their jackets and masks. Dawn had to use a breastplate, so she secured one of those, too, as well as a rancid glove that'd seen better days.
”You don't own your own stuff?” Kiko asked, sniffing at one of the gloves. He tested a tiny jacket, also, but those were frequently washed, so he looked more optimistic after that olfactory experience.
”Owning is too expensive.” After taking off her long earring, Dawn chose sabers for both of them, even though she knew he wouldn't be using the blade today. But sabers were way more exhilarating because you got to cut and thrust as opposed to merely getting points for contacting the target areas with a foil's tip.
As they went back to the floor, Kiko said, ”I wonder how many little people can fence. Maybe I can corner this market.”
”h.e.l.l, yes, you can.” She dug Kiko's enthusiasm. ”We'll chat with Dipak about it.”
Kiko gave an excited hop. ”See, I knew meeting you would bring great things. And I'm not just talking about...” He glanced around furtively. ”You know.”
d.a.m.n. And here she'd forgotten about vamps for a blessed minute. But that probably wasn't a good thing. ”I know. Take off those sungla.s.ses, please.”
He did, probably thinking that pirates didn't need shades.
Sans masks and gloves, they stretched, Kiko complaining about his soreness and then getting all google-eyed at Dawn's flexibility as she eased into the splits. The more limber she was for lunging, the better. Soon, she got him started on the proper en guarde position, adjusting the bend of his front leg, the angle of his blade arm. He sucked in a breath every time she touched him, but...
whatever. Kiko could tough this out as much as she could. She taught him how to advance, then retreat.
Dipak finally made it over. He pointed at Kiko's feet. ”Oh, this footwork, my tiny friend. It is not satisfactory, not satisfactory at all.”
Knowing what a drill sergeant Dipak could be, Dawn stiffened, waiting for Kiko to freak out at the blunt criticism. But he didn't.
Nope, instead, he good-naturedly went along with the coaching, grinning at Dawn the whole time.
Cool.
”Dawn,” Dipak said, ”a favor, please?”
”Sure.”
He jerked his head toward the other side of the room. ”Run to the washer and put the jackets into the dryer? Later, perhaps we can cross blades and chat while your friend practices what he has learned.” Dipak the taskmaster. How she'd missed him. ”Done.”
Leaving a now-focused Kiko, Dawn hustled to the small laundry room and finished her a.s.signment, eager to return to the floor and see how rusty her skills had gotten. The last time she'd fenced was about a month ago-dog years in this sport.
She'd crossed half the room on her way back when she was stopped by another student.
”Excuse me? Can I...?” The woman gestured to her jacket. She had it on backward.
She was a redhead, her long hair braided, her body toned and long-limbed. A starlet, Dawn thought, hardly taking a second look at her.
Dawn's favorite Hollywood creature.
”New to fencing?” Dawn asked, impatiently getting the girl out of the jacket and b.u.t.toning her into it the right way.
”Yes, I am. My agent wants me to do some training because there's this part in the new Will Smith movie that requires some ability. Can't hurt to try it, right?”
The breathing mannequin-early twenties, probably, though you never knew-waited with friendly patience for an answer as Dawn inspected her work. Dawn could sense the the girl's neediness for recognition out of the corner of her eye.
Wiping her hands of the girl, she remained distant, walking away without another glance. ”Good luck with that audition.”
She could feel the starlet watching her leave, probably cussing her out for being such a pill. Dawn told herself it didn't matter.