the fist of STRONG (or EVIL IN THE ALLEY)
The first time I used the ‘fist of strong’ I trembled. It was so powerful it made me sick. I was on my way back from a trumpet lesson (trumpet = the most beautiful sculpture in the world) and I got cornered in an alley. Alleys still exist today—pathways without exits, doors on either side closed. I was lost. It was dark and the darkness around me searched for more darkness. I didn’t notice the boys following me. They seemed to come from nowhere and blocked my escape. They made fun of my shoes (yes, there was a time when boys made fun of shoes!). Then they moved in close. They didn’t speak unless you call grunting speaking. Not all of them were evil but I sensed EVIL in one of them. I had sensed treachery before but never evil. And I was right because the evil ONE kicked my trumpet case out of my hand. The case popped open when it hit the ground and my trumpet tumbled out. The other boys snickered. They weren’t evil but they couldn’t recognize evil WHICH is almost as bad. I became angrier than I had ever been in my life. I snapped and unleashed the most powerful punch I had ever unleashed. I think that I might have become evil too--for a split second. I yelled out “FIST OF STRONG!” and knuckle-sandwiched the boy’s chest sending him flying back (all the way back) into the dead end of the alley. I left my arm outstretched, my fist still in the air, and turned my eyes toward the other boys. They ran away which turned out to be a good thing because I started trembling from the amount of power I had unleashed.