The First Love Of Alipang Havens

(NOTE TO MY READERS: The fact of Summer having been inside the house is one of my planned "overlaps" with the parallel story which N-Fan will be writing.)


Tyrone, whose contribution for his side was negligible, had found a different outlet for his aggressions when Pitik's neighbor, the owner of the mongrel, came storming outside, stupidly demanding an end to all this ruckus. This man, with no combat training whatsoever, fell victim to a crude side kick from Tyrone, falling flat on his back in the cold, wet grass. Tyrone felt good about that--until the man's mutt came after him. Fleeing to leap onto the parked car's hood, the young punk was out of the main action at the time the cavalry charged.

Summer was carrying an Escrima stick which Master Pitik had handed her as they swarmed out the door, since he could not stop her from going to her friend's aid without wasting time.

Alipang had not been hit again since the kick to his head, but that one kick had stars popping up in his eyes. He still was holding off his foes, but had not gained his opening to strike back decisively. The white man seemed even to have a sense of teamwork, making his own attacks and Leopard Man's alternate steadily to give their target no respite. Only when Evan launched a flying tackle which took Leopard Man off his feet, was Alipang able to go on offense against the most dangerous enemy.

Evan's move had been a good one. At stand-off range, he would not have been able to match Leopard Man at trading kicks and punches; but in wrestling he was nearly the hoodlum's equal.

Master Pitik recognized the white man as someone whom he had seen at some past open-style tournaments...and who had eventually been barred from the circuit for repeated rules violations. He knew this man for a dangerous enemy, but saw that Alipang was handling him well enough to allow for some cleanup. So Pitik swiftly grabbed his neighbor's dog by the collar, then ran around the fight to the neighbor.

"Mister Sonderberg, are you all right?" The man was not badly hurt. "Good, get your dog inside; the police have already been called."

Meanwhile, Summer saw her own opening just in time, as Leopard Man was getting on top of Evan and beginning to choke him--just as he had begun to choke Summer, that day fifteen months ago. Shouting "Hey, remember me?", she grabbed a fistful of Leopard Man's hair with her left hand, yanked his head upward, and swung the baton she held against his left cheek with all her strength. Falling clear of Evan, Leopard Man proved himself no weakling by getting back on his feet--but not all the way back to an effective stance, before Summer hit him again, twice. Her last blow cracked the rattan stick, while also knocking two of Leopard Man's teeth out. Burning with rage, he still tried to get at Summer; but Evan, recovered, caught his ankles and pulled his feet out from under him. Then Evan and Summer both sat on Leopard Man and kept him helpless.

Alipang was making it an equal fight with even the toughest of his enemies, now that it was one on one, despite the Muay Thai man being fresher and having a reach advantage. But there was no need to prove whether he could beat the man--for now Master Pitik was upon him. The white man found his right arm captured and twisted behind his back before he knew what was happening; his expert efforts to strike back at close range were expertly blocked, and then he was face-down on the ground.

"Rattler Collins, that's one time too often fighting dirty!" Pitik exclaimed.

Relieved from fighting Rattler Collins--whose name he now recognized as having once been mentioned by Master Pitik--Alipang was free to spring at the car and pull Tyrone out of it, just as Tyrone was trying to start the engine and drive away. Crying like a baby, but at the same time trying vainly to land punches on the friend he had betrayed, the hateful brother of the sweet-natured Lacey soon found himself on the ground with his older companions.

"Racist! Racist!" he wailed; but Alipang retorted, "You didn't mind a white man being on _your_ side for troublemaking! No one cares what you say now!"
 
(Leopard Man is taller than Evan; there's room to spare on top of him.)


Alipang threw Tyrone onto to the ground with enough force that the spoiled brat could do nothing before the shivering Alipang had time to fetch his dropped coat and tug it back on. Then, sitting on Tyrone, Alipang asked Pitik, "Master, what were Tyrone and Leopard Man doing with this other guy? And what were any of them doing here?" Then to Summer: "And what were _you_ doing inside?--not that you're not allowed to visit Master Pitik, of course."

"Evan and I both were thinking of picking up some formal training," Summer told him.

Then it came Pitik's turn. "I had heard rumors that from the time his own Muay Thai school repudiated him, Collins here was flirting with joining one of the major gangs. He must have reckoned that having a couple of black kids training secretly under him would help him eventually to gain acceptance with a black street gang that might have use for a white member in some activities. And being able to say that he or someone he trained had defeated a master..."

Alipang's eyebrows lifted. "So he had to look for students in Smoky Lake?"

"It wouldn't be the first time urban gangs found recruits in small towns. You saw that yourself last year."

At this point, Dolores Imada poked her head out the door. "Pete, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, dear," Pitik answered. "Would you please fetch some cord out here? Those police are taking forever to show up." Mrs. Imada did as he asked, and before long all three troublemakers were soundly trussed up. Then Pitik told the others, "I'll stay here and watch them. You get inside and warm up."

Alipang was only too glad to go indoors. His exertions ended, he was beginning to shiver like a walking earthquake. He gratefully accepted a cup of hot tea from his instructor's wife.

"They simply drove up onto the lawn without warning," Dolores explained. "The tall black one got out and started challenging Pitik to a duel; but we could see that he had others with him--"

"I'm embarrassed," Alipang interjected. "I _didn't_ see the others in the car."

"Your attention was drawn to the obvious one," said Evan.

"So Pitik phoned the police," Dolores continued. "He's under no moral obligation to fight three challengers at once, and I told him in no uncertain terms that I didn't want him risking it. As for those hoodlums, they made no attempt to break into the house; they must have reasoned that, in case of being caught, they would be in less trouble with the law if Pitik fought them willingly, than if they invaded a home. As soon as you started fighting the first one, Pitik had to stop _Summer_ from rushing out the door to help you. But once _all_ of them went after you, all bets were off."

Alipang looked back out the window. "I appreciate all the help I got. But where _are_ those cops?"
 
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A squad car finally did arrive. Through knowing the son of the police chief, Master Pitik knew all the officers in the small Smoky Lake Police Department. Getting out of the car were...

"Walt? Kerwin? What kept you?"

"A diversion, by the looks of THIS," Walt replied.

Kerwin explained: "Vandalism broke out at several points in town at once. Windows of buildings and of parked cars being shattered. We had to turn all our attention to running down those perps; we were in the middle of that when you phoned the station."

"Sorry about that, Pete," Walt continued; "but it looks like you didn't need our help anyway."

Pitik shrugged. "I didn't do all this by myself."

Kerwin smiled. "What, Al again?"

"With some other help besides, but yes. Did you catch any of the vandals?"

"Two of them. They check out as bottom-ranking juvenile gang members from out of town, Beltway area."

"We were wondering why they came this far to break windows," remarked Walt. "But now--like I said, now I'd figure they were diverting us so that we couldn't stop these others from harassing you. Still doesn't make much sense."

Master Pitik tapped the tied-up Rattler Collins on the head. "Nothing makes sense until you know the reason why. This man here may not look like an aspiring actor, but he was doing an audition--trying to be cast in the gangsta show. The other two here came along as his supporting players. The ones you busted were giving him his chance to show what he could do against me and my school. They may not even have known why the gang told them to come to Smoky Lake and create a disturbance."

Right then, a car pulled up and parked as near as it could to Master Pitik's front yard. Out of it came the father of Tyrone Paulson; his face was twisted with mindless anger, which is to say that he looked the way he usually looked.
 
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"What you _______ racists doin'?" shouted Malcolm Paulson at the officers. "Always arrestin' the black man! Tryin' to bring back the Klan, yeah, you pigs just _love_ that Klan!" He sounded as if he had begun the weekend's drinking a bit early.

This was not the first or the tenth time that Smoky Lake police officers had heard this particular citizen making up accusations of police racism out of thin air. "Sir, if you look again, you'll see that a _white_ offender is also being arrested," Kerwin told him.

Though not acknowledging this self-evident fact, Mr. Paulson swerved his artillery to a different target, as he saw Alipang coming back out of the house. Pointing at the Filipino youth whose skin was not much lighter than his, Mr. Paulson shouted, "You too! White supremacist! Bullying my son!" But this father's tender solicitude for Tyrone didn't last long--in fact, never actually existed. Mr. Paulson's next move was to pounce on his helplessly-bound son and shout at him even more angrily than he had shouted at the white policemen:

"You ________ little ______ ! Where is it? You took it! I want it back NOW! Give it to me, you ________ !" This, in complete disregard of Tyrone's hands being tied, so that he had no way of giving anyone anything.

More afraid of his father than of the police, Tyrone whimpered, "Please, D-D-Dad, they, they, they made me, made me t-t-take it!"

"That's a lie!" Leopard Man yelled from where he lay close by. "That little punk stole it on his own, and _offered_ to buy stuff for us with it!"

"Stole what?" Alipang interjected. Though Tyrone had gone very badly astray, Alipang had never so far heard of the boy turning thief.

"He took my ________ credit card!" screamed Mr. Paulson. "I'm gonna--!" And he raised a threatening fist over his defenseless boy. But faster than he could notice any movement, Alipang was upon him, catching his wrist and forcing him to stagger back several paces away from Tyrone, then releasing him again in deference to Kerwin and Walt.

"Stay away from him," said Walt--but he was saying this to Malcolm Paulson, not to Alipang. "If you make any trouble, you will be arrested for obstructing police officers."

"Obstructin' the _Klan,_ you mean! You all really in the Klan, ain't you? Racists! Nazis!"

Kerwin held up a hand. "Calm down, Mr. Paulson, you'll get your credit card back." A search of Tyrone's pockets quickly turned up the card, which was handed back to its owner. Mr. Paulson's thanks consisted of the word "Pigs;" but he seemed to have enough sense left not to do something which would get him arrested.

Glaring at Alipang, he snarled, "You! You musta _______d up his head some way!"

Alipang radiated the calm which came from knowing that Mr. Paulson knew that Mr. Paulson would have no chance at all against Alipang in any kind of physical fight. "Sir, what led your son down the wrong path was being taught to believe that he had a _right_ to demand anything he wanted from the world. _You_ taught him that, you and your wife. I feel sorry for Tyrone, but I have no sympathy for you."
 
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Angry though he was, Mr. Paulson didn't want his son arrested for stealing the credit card. Betrayed though he was, Alipang didn't want his former friend arrested for joining in the three-on-one assault. Tyrone might have gotten off easily....if he had not chosen to kick Mr. Sonderberg. He was going to have to answer for that. Leopard Man and Rattler Collins would have more to answer for, even though the initial fight between Leopard Man and Alipang could be dismissed as a martial-arts match with mutual consent. For one thing, the car in which the troublemaking trio had driven onto the Imadas' lawn was a stolen car.

In view of Alipang having been kicked in the head, Master Pitik took a moment to examine his prize pupil's eyes. There was no sign of concussion; Alipang had pulled away from the force of the kick just enough.

Kerwin and Walt were getting done stuffing the three prisoners into the back of their squad car when Master Pitik's Escrima students began showing up. Without fail, each new arrival gawked in amazement at the scene. A wide-eyed girl named Luna, one of the newest pupils, asked if Master Pitik himself was being arrested, and needed a great deal of reassurance before she quit worrying. Gilberto Costamesa, more familiar with such scenes, was much more businesslike about getting the facts of the incident; Master Pitik soon had Gilberto temporarily taking charge of the class while Pitik finished giving a statement about the confrontation.

Summer and Evan were invited to stay on for the regular training session; but they both decided they had better go show themselves alive and safe to their respective parents, before small-town rumors depicted them as dead. Alipang thanked them both again for their help, and presumed to kiss Summer's cheek in parting.

Not long afterward, Alipang was on the receiving end of abundant kissing, from Chilena. Coming for class and seeing that something had been amiss, she assumed her brother to have been the target of the trouble (which was partly true), and fastened herself anxiously to him, not letting go of him until many kisses and squeezes had been exchanged and Pitik himself had promised her that Alipang was all right.

In Pitik's basement, the class did manage to proceed--not without discussion of what had just happened outdoors. Even before Pitik, Alipang and Chilena rejoined the others, Gilberto spoke in his capacity as a police chief's son, explaining that martial-arts masters like Pitik Imada needed to be especially careful about the legal consequences of using their skills in earnest, since it really was true that their hands could be regarded as deadly weapons. "You can be sure that Master Pitik was not intimidated by those hoodlums; but his calling the police was plain common sense. Besides, he had no way to be sure they didn't have guns. If there's no moral duty compelling you to fight, it isn't cowardice to try to avoid fighting."

When the session ended, and Chilena's clinching with Alipang resumed, Gilberto approached the siblings with news. "This was overshadowed by the incident here, but now I can tell you: I've heard from Suri! Since that Marxist politician in Honduras failed in his attempt to take over the country, and failed to fool his people with his lies that it was his opponents who were pulling an illegal coup, Suri feels okay now about coming to the States again!"

"Awesome!" replied Alipang. "Do you know how soon she might come?"

"She has to graduate from high school first; so she'll come up in June if she can. From now till then, I'll be trying to help her line up work as a photographer."

The happiness of his true friend assuaged Alipang's grief over the arrest of his false friend. And it was comforting to be reminded, through the events in Honduras, that socialist-collectivist control of nations was NOT inevitable and irresistible.
 
Interest in the healthcare townhall meetings initiated by Eric Havens had spread countywide. On the following Tuesday, even with Christmas drawing near, there was another such meeting: the first one to be held in Plattford, and also the first one to be held in a church, a Wesleyan church as it happened.

A pharmacist in Plattford had urged Eric to come to his town; and although this man and Eric himself were the only healthcare professionals facilitating this meeting, there still was reasonable attendance for this little town west of Smoky Lake.

At the start of the townhall time, Alipang was allowed to address the sixty or seventy persons present.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Alipang Havens. My father is Dr. Eric Havens, and I plan to follow in his footsteps, or in his tooth-sockets if you will, to become a dentist also. I hope to be as expert in this profession as my father is; but even my father will tell you that he is not literally infallible and all-knowing in his field. No mortal is. Because of this, he never tries to tell dental patients that they are not allowed to use their own brains, when their own oral health or that of their families is at stake. He never gets in a snit if they want to consult another dentist; he has even actively helped some people to submit requests to their insurance providers to allow coverage for differing treatments.

"In an age when 'choice' is a sacred word for profane purposes, my father believes in legitimate freedom of choice for patients under care.

"Now, have any of you folks heard the term 'health choices commissioner'? Hands?....Good, at least some of you. The phrase means a government official appointed to _dictate_ which patients are allowed to receive which treatments, and from which care providers. The very concept of _having_ such an official is closely akin to saying you can't have private parcel shippers as an alternative to the Postal Service...or like saying that you can't homeschool your children, which is how my sisters and I have mostly been educated...or like saying you can't have any television networks which aren't government-managed.

"What can the motivation be for placing a bureaucrat in command of the process of matching patients with doctors? Will a career civil servant, whose tenure protects him from being held accountable for poor performance, and who doesn't know any of the patients whose names pass across his desk or his computer screen, _improve_ the odds of sick and injured persons getting the best possible treatment?

"I will not ask you to believe the more extravagant explanations of this trend toward monolithic federal control of every procedure and every prescription. I do not accuse anyone of intentionally plotting to cause millions of needless deaths, or to make our entire population dependent on exotic drugs. But what I do charge, and what I do ask you to believe, is serious enough.

"George Orwell, in Nineteen Eighty-Four, said that tyrants do not seize power because they want wealth and luxury; they seize power because THE POWER ITSELF is what they desire, for its own sake. Vladimir Lenin, when he took control of what became the Soviet Union, made a big publicity show of living humbly in a small apartment; but his living there was misdirection, like a stage magician keeping the audience from spotting the rabbit too soon. Lenin's modest apartment prevented people from seeing the gigantic and horrible truth: he wasn't denying himself, he just had a different _kind_ of self-indulgence. His appetite wasn't for money, comfort or sex; his appetite was for the thrill, the high, of knowing THAT HE WAS RUNNING THINGS. Knowing that he could order people to be killed or imprisoned anytime he wanted to.

"This dark and selfish craving for power over other people's lives can exist in petty functionaries as well as in rulers of nations. It can exist in the soul of an unelected political appointee who gets to decide whether YOU can have the operation you want, or the medicine you want. It is not necessary to suppose that such a man will consciously _desire_ to cause anyone's death; mere _indifference_ on his part to the needs of individuals will do more than enough damage. With available options in health care narrowed down to what a bureaucracy decides to approve, unconventional ideas will be discouraged...creativity will be suppressed...and patients whose conditions involve unforeseen peculiarities will be forced under the cookie cutter of the _authorized_ range of therapies.

"People who aren't lucky enough to have the authorized conditions will go unhelped. And that is expressing things very mildly. Ladies and gentlemen, we are here to examine a matter which is far more than a partisan quarrel. We stand at the intersection of human health, and human freedom; here, if one of those roads is blocked, both roads are blocked. I ask you all to pay close attention to what will be said tonight, and to speak your own minds freely. The fact that we CAN have such a meeting, organized by private citizens without asking for governmental permission, is a gift more precious and fragile than your neighbors may realize. This gift of liberty could go down the same drain as our healthcare system. We must try to prevent this calamity. Thank you for listening; now let the real meeting begin."

The discussion which followed was both lively and relevant. Eric Havens was proud of his son for the opening speech; and Alipang Havens was proud of his father for the job of civic education that followed.
 
Leopard Man and Rattler Collins were eventually sentenced to terms in the county jail. Tyrone Paulson was delivered to the same juvenile correction system which had failed to make the slightest improvement in Leopard Man's moral character. Neither their observance of Kwanzaa, nor their shared allegiance to W.A.L.N.U.T., stopped Tyrone's parents from furiously blaming each other for their son's downfall. This was to lead to a divorce before 2010 was more than two weeks old.

Lacey Paulson would remember, in years to come, how Sammy Ashford lent her a sympathetic ear when she needed to vent her unhappiness over the crumbling of her parents' marriage.

==============

The Havens family tried to keep Christmastime normal and traditional, despite the churning of national events which would affect Eric's ability to practice his profession as he deemed best. Also causing unrest was news of the eruption emergency at Mount Mayon, the most dangerous volcano in the Philippines. The Havens family prayed seriously for the safety of the Filipino people. But life went on.

There were carolling parties, in which Alipang remained unable to sing on key. An enormous Christmas dinner, dwarfing their Thanksgiving feast, was planned at the Havens house. One particular improvement in the season for Alipang was a pleasing surprise from Kim. She decided that the Christmas season warranted increased kissing between sweethearts, and she acted accordingly. At last, Alipang could feel that physical affection from the romantic side was filling in the space left by a steady decrease in overt affection from the sibling side.

There was, nonetheless, one more downstairs meeting between him and Chilena, late on Christmas Eve. This contained bountiful whispering, snuggling, kissing and heartbeat-listening....plus, by bittersweet agreement, the last and final stairway fight the Wonder Twins would ever have, which started out going upstairs from the living room, then went down the stairs AND up the stairs again AND down the stairs again. Besides abundant kisses and loving clinches, this epic battle included a stinky-breath duel and a lengthy index-finger swordfight.

==============

Christmas Day of 2009 was totally satisfying for the Havens family and everyone close to them, though not much need be said about it. Among those coming to Christmas dinner were the Tisdales, the Kramers, the Herons, the Salisburys, and the Capshaws. Alipang, at one point, persuaded Kim to climb into the treehouse with him--so that he could at last kiss her in a location where he had previously kissed both Chilena and Summer.

When New Year's Eve came, there was another P.I.T.N.Y. youth party at Redemption Free Church, incorporating substantial prayer for the town of Smoky Lake and for the United States of America. The praying was purposely continued right through the passing of midnight; but later on, Alipang and Kim contrived to get out of sight of the others long enough to share a Happy-New-Year kiss. They were not the only young couple to do so; Dan and Chilena followed suit shortly after them, albeit in a different room.

And Alipang Havens, now legally an adult, had only one semester to go in high school.
 
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Alipang's courses for his final semester at East High were almost anticlimactic; he would be able to skate through them and get good final grades. This meant that he could put in considerable time as assistant manager of the original Pansit Paradise--which was important, because Rafael and Carmen Imada did get their chance to open up a second Filipino restaurant in Richmond, as planned.

When the earthquake disaster in Haiti caught America's attention, all of the churches in Smoky Lake involved themselves in raising aid money for the stricken country. Some, including Redemption Free Church, cancelled planned expenditures for in-church purposes, in order to be able to send more money someplace BESIDES "the storehouse."

After the excitement about Haiti subsided, a much smaller yet also dramatic event occurred: Chilena actually did have an occasion to babysit Dustin and Nikki Jakekens, the small children her birth parents had adopted long after leaving Chilena. The little ones were much too appealing for their babysitter to resent them; and Chilena came away from that gently pleasant evening more reconciled to her birth parents than she had theretofore thought possible. Not that she did not still consider her adoptive parents immeasurably superior.

Late in January, Alipang's parents had cause to write a request for him to be excused from classes on one school day. He was going to be wanted at Baltimore-Washington International Airport, the same airport where he had seen Brendan Hyland off to the War on Terror.

Brendan was coming home, less intact than he had been when leaving America.

Enemy bullets had struck his face obliquely during a firefight, doing enough damage to give him his medical discharge--not before his having earned a Bronze Star. Two brother Marines on leave would accompany Brendan to the States: his buddy Ricardo Mendoza, and his literal brother, Patrick Hyland, a full corporal on a seagoing Fleet Marine tour of duty.



Once again Alipang crossed the high walkway from the parking garage to the B.W.I. terminal, together with Brendan's fretful mother, a pale-faced Jennifer Williams, and a somber Kim. The plane was late enough that Mrs. Hyland had time to imagine her younger son ten times as badly hurt as he really was. In a way, this was a mercy, for his actual condition then would not seem quite as bad.

When the three Marines came into view, it was a comforting sight to see Brendan walking under his own power, though even at a distance it could be seen that he wore a patch over his left eye. Further inspection was postponed while Brendan and Patrick were both bombarded with tearful hugs. Alipang and Kim introduced themselves to Lance Corporal Mendoza so he wouldn't feel left out.

Looking closely at Alipang, Mendoza asked, "Are you the Filipino Fireball?"

Alipang was startled. "What, did Brendan call me that over THERE?"

"Sure did. He enjoyed yakking about your escapades. You still going to be a dentist?"

"God willing, yes. And Brendan also wrote to me about you. Hey, will you be coming with us down to Smoky Lake? We came in two cars, so we have room for you as well as the Hyland brothers."

Mendoza nodded. "I can spare a few days in Virginia, though my own family's in Kansas. They gave me a good spell of leave, since I didn't get any in the Christmas season. And little Brendan--" (Mendoza was joking; Brendan was taller than he was) "--couldn't find his way around without me even while he had TWO eyes."

Brendan punched Mendoza's shoulder. "Don't steal my horror stories! Alipang, this falls in your professional sphere. See the surgical scars on the left side? I lost several teeth, besides the eye. Slows down my pizza eating terribly."

Patrick Hyland shook hands with Alipang and added, "But a lot of the enemy lost more than Brendan did. Before he outprocesses, he'll be seeing an oral surgeon at Bethesda Naval Hospital to get some new teeth installed."

There was much more talk, warlike and otherwise, before the seven persons embarked in the two cars, Mendoza riding with Alipang in the old white sedan driven by Kim. Halfway to Smoky Lake, and on a first-name basis by now, Alipang had an inspiration. "Ricardo? I know that Brendan's brother has a fiancee. Do you have a girl?"

"Not so far; been kind of busy."

Catching Alipang's drift, Kim asked the Marine, "How old are you?"

"Twenty; I'll be twenty-one in February."

Alipang grinned broadly. "That's no worse of an age difference than I overcame. Ricardo: Kim and I are going to introduce you to the second most beautiful female in the Commonwealth of Virginia, a lady named Holly Brighton."
 
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Finding themselves remarkably compatible in faith and values, Holly Brighton and Ricardo Mendoza did in fact hit it off splendidly, going on three dates in the span of days Ricardo was able to spend in Virginia. The first of these dates was a double date including Alipang and Kim. The only sour note that occurred for the visiting Marine the whole time was external. On the afternoon before one of the dates, Ricardo paid a visit to the campus of Doverwood Community College to see where Holly taught dance. A few students, ones who had been taught by teachers like Judd Grovemore to revere the Sixties, spotted Ricardo's Marine Corps athletic jacket. In unison, then, they chanted at him:

"A just war is just a war! Peace now, peace now!
A just war is just a war! Peace now, peace now!"

Ricardo shrugged it off; he knew that Holly's attitude was quite different, and on that night's date he was able to laugh about his infantile harassers.

The historian of these events is not prepared to affirm absolutely that no kissing took place between Ricardo and Holly during this first phase of their acquaintaince. It is for certain that when they parted company, it was with serious intentions of seeing each other again when possible.



On the evening after Lance Corporal Mendoza flew to Wichita, Kansas, Brendan and Jennifer got around to eating at The Pansit Paradise, where Alipang personally covered the cost of their food. Filipino noodles were a reasonable dish for the wounded veteran to eat when he had not yet had his oral surgery.

When customers other than the special guests had mostly gone home, Alipang asked Brendan, "Do you think America is accomplishing anything in Afghanistan?"

"I believe we are, Al--if only our achievements won't be totally wrecked by a combination of political crooks there, and political crooks here."

"But that's not your responsibility anymore," Jennifer insisted.

"Afghanistan's no longer my responsibility, honey, but America still is."

"In that connection, and subject to your medical appointments and eventual job-hunting," said Alipang, "there may be some important work for Captain Lacrosse. I told you about my Dad's townhall meetings. I'll bet we could start something similar to raise people's awareness about national defense. By being out of the Corps--"

"Never ALL the way out," Brendan corrected him.

"Of course. But by no longer being on duty in uniform, you will be freed from the requirement to be non-political. You can give talks about military issues. Maybe Mr. Kramer will join us. Maybe....we can help more people to sort out right from wrong."



~ ~ END OF PART 29 ~ ~

Part 30 will be the last part.​
 
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PART THIRTY:
NEW LINEUPS ON GOD'S TEAM​


Between restaurant work and studies, February of 2010 had come before Alipang was again free on an evening when the Doverwood College Mixed Martial Arts Club met. Kim, having herself been shortchanged on Alipang's attention in recent days, came along with him--even putting on gym shorts after they arrived, both so as to join in the physical activity and so as to help Alipang keep his eyes on HER more than on other girls present. (Their drive to campus was through substantial snow, not a common sight in Virginia's lowlands; but Kim informed Alipang that teachers at Doverwood were insisting that this proved global warming. The same teachers, in earlier years, had gone on record saying that LACK of snow ALSO proved global warming.)

Only two other participants were at the gym ahead of them: instructor Curving Breeze, and Lenore, the college student who had counted the seconds when Alipang had had his contest with Miss Breeze. Lenore was looking solicitous and worried, and her look was directed at the Tai Chi teacher, who looked utterly dejected.

As soon as Curving Breeze laid eyes on Alipang, she said in a dull voice, "Alipang. My first piece of good karma this week. Would you please lead the group tonight?"

"As you like; but what's wrong?"

While Curving Breeze dropped her face into her hands, Lenore supplied an answer: "Teacher's boyfriend left her without warning, for another woman."

Kim was first to react. While internally commanding herself not to have any absurd fears of Miss Breeze trying now to snare the barely-adult Alipang as a lover for herself on the rebound, she came alongside the older-but-still-attractive woman and laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "That really stinks. But if he's a guy who would do that, you're better off without him."

Curving Breeze gratefully clasped Kim's hand. "Will I sound stupid if I say that I thought he really loved me?"

"It isn't stupid to want to be loved."

Expecting more enthusiasts to come in at any moment, Alipang asked, "Miss Breeze, was there any special emphasis going on in the sessions I missed?"

Once again, Lenore answered for her mentor: "No dominant emphasis; a variety of training."

When Curving Breeze opened her mouth again, it was to surprise the other three by saying, "You might as well stop calling me Curving Breeze. I assumed that name trying to seem exotic. It obviously didn't help to keep HIM interested. So, it's back to reality." She raised her eyes to look into Alipang's. "Hello, Mr. Havens, my name is Hilda Stubbs, and I'm now thirty years old with nobody who wants me."

This brought on a commiserating hug from Lenore, to which the erstwhile Curving Breeze responded sluggishly but gratefully. An instant later, club members began drifting in; but Alipang and Kim agreed between themselves that they would stay after the session, if Hilda stayed until its end, in order to talk with her further.

Alipang opened the evening's training with a talk, based on his latest fight, about the effects of fighting in uncomfortable weather conditions. Listening to him, letting him be completely in charge, the martial artist formerly known as Curving Breeze looked like dismal gray weather on two legs....
 
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Hilda Stubbs did stay at the campus fitness center after the club meeting. She, Lenore and Kim went into the women's showers together after the other female attendees had finished. Silently, wordlessly, each knowing it was happening yet none openly admitting it, all three women assessed each other's natural equipment to compare with their own. For what it was worth, none of the three had anything to feel inferior about in this area.

Yet excellence of curves had not made Curving Breeze able to hold on to a boyfriend.

"He always laughed off the idea of marriage as 'just a piece of paper,' " Hilda recollected. "It was hard for me to argue with him about that, since my own parents got a divorce when I was five, each married again, and each got _another_ divorce."

"My parents are also divorced," Lenore told Kim, saying something which doubtless was already known to Hilda.

"That makes us The Three Divorce-keteers, then," Kim declared, "because my father left my mother when I was little. But in spite of that, I _still_ believe marriage is more than a piece of paper. When the promise for commitment is given, even though it _might_ be broken, isn't that still better odds than a relationship where the option of walking out at any time is assumed from the very start? You know that Al's parents have a solid marriage; they're nearing their twentieth anniversary."

"But so many long-lasting marriages are just long-lasting imprisonments for the woman," objected Hilda. "You're aware, aren't you, that some women much older than average college age come to the martial-arts club? They come because they need to rebuild their self-esteem after years of being emotionally worn down by their husbands, even if no _physical_ abuse was involved."

"No doubt they do. But I know enough about boyfriend-girlfriend relationships, most of it admittedly second-hand but from good sources, to know that emotional oppression is not a _product_ of the marriage vow as such."

By the time they emerged from the women's locker room, Alipang had also showered and dressed, and had been waiting many minutes for Kim. He wasn't expecting what came next. Kim strode up to him dramatically, flung her arms around him, and kissed him very seriously. "Al, baby, the more I learn about other men, the more I appreciate you."

"Well, that's good," he replied, a little taken aback. "It's just too bad that there have to be creeps in the world to make me look good."

Kim kissed him again. "Even if all men were at least decent, you would stand out. Which leads me to a piece of business that's been hanging in the air between you and me."

Alipang looked at Hilda and Lenore--who appeared as intrigued as he felt--then back at Kim. "Are you talking about....the _personal_ business, which affects everything?"

"I am." She kissed him a third time. "As if I needed any more reminding, I've been reminded _again_ what a treasure you are. So....since this step doesn't require the date to be set right away....I want you to say it. Say the words, with our friends here listening. I'll know you mean what you say; and our lives will show _them_ that we both mean what we say. I love you, Al; now, ask me." Her eyes grew brighter as she spoke.

Alipang nodded, then hastily said to the other women (whose eyes had been growing wider as Kim's grew brighter), "I'm going to remain standing; kneeling is not what defines a proposal." Settling his arms around Kim's waist, he solemnly intoned: "Miss Kimberly Tisdale, will you marry me?"

Having known for a long time that this moment would come, and having every intention of saying yes, Kim had more than once imagined giving her acceptance in a flippant manner when Alipang officially popped the question. But now that it had come, she realized that this was not a good time to attack his dignity, especially since she herself had precipitated the timing. So she simply answered, "Yes, I will, Mr. Havens, on a suitable day. And I know you'll get me a ring soon enough." Then she brought her mouth against his more slowly and tenderly than the previous three kisses, and wound her arms more firmly around his muscular neck.

Lenore noticed that Hilda's eyes were leaking tears. She touched her teacher's arm sympathetically. "I'm all right," Hilda gulped. "I'm _glad_ they let me see this. At least I know _someone's_ real in this world."
 
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