Children of a Lesser God

While Grandpa Crowe was laying in a bed surrounded by ice, Laz walked over to the barn with Bill, completely oblivious to what was happening. Although it might sound strange, Laz knew that even if his grandpa was here, he might not be in the right mind to know of Laz so he thought nothing of it.

Bill wasn't going to tell him anything either as he knew that this young man already had a lot on his mind and didn't want to add something else. Although Bill was worried, he was able to see ahead enough to know that his best friend of many years wasn't going to die just yet. Therefore, he found no reason to worry Laz.

"Alright Laz, your going to be working on just the bag today."

"What's up old man? Not planning on chasing me around the woods today?" Laz remarked somewhat sarcasticly.

"Did you want me to? Cause I've got a new type of soft plastic bullet I've been working on that hurts a hell of a lot more than a rubber bullet and might even break some bones."

"Uh.. no, no. On second thought, the bag is fine."

"Good choice. As you can see it's the same bag from before, with a slight change. See that paint on it?"

Laz looked over at the heavy bag and noticed there was red paint on several portions of the bag. including spots at head level, stomach and crotch level, and at various parts that could be considered where joints would be. With a questioning look on his face, Laz turned towards Bill.

"Oh come on, haven't you watch any movies? There are certain spots on a human body that hurt a hell of a lot more when hit than others. Take for instance a guys chest. You think your going to punch through the muscle and bone and shatter them with your bare hands? You're dreaming. So instead of wasting time doing that, learn to punch at these areas which can be considered weak points."

Pointing towards the spot on the 'crotch' of the bag, Bill looked at Laz seriously and said, "You might feel bad about hitting a guy here, but let me tell you something. When it comes to a real fight, fuck your feelings. You need to take a guy out as fast as possible and right here is a way to do it. Unless his nuts are made of steel, if you hit him here, it's going to take him down. And that is exactly what you want. So for today until tomorrow, I want you to keep hitting these spots until the pant has been completely taken off the bag. Hit, kick, chop, palm it for all I care, but don't try to cheat. Just use various parts of your body to figure out how to hit something. Just because you've seen someone give a headbutt on TV doesn't mean its a great idea to actually do it. Although it may work, you will probably leave yourself a bit dizzy as well. Questions? NO? Good, get started and don't let me see you stop."

Bill walked away and headed back to the house, leaving Laz in the hot barn by himself. The muggy air in the barn with no breeze made it kind of hard for Laz to breath and now Bill wanted him to just keep hitting this thing all day and night? Laz shook his head and just thought that the running had helped a lot so he might as well just trust that this would serve some purpose.

Looking at the bag, Laz realized that after what had happened the last time, Bill had hung three new chains from the rafters to hold it in place. The course leather or vinyl that it was made from was rough and seemed like it was stuffed a lot fuller than before. Taking a deep breath, Laz could smell the barn all around him. Even though it was a barn, there was no smell of animals here. Just the smell of the dead wood, the somewhat stale hay and even the slight traces of metal from the new chains.

Being alone in a hot area and not wanting to move caused Laz to focus more on what everything was around him, allowing him to enter a strange, trance like state. He moved slight to rub his hand on the bag, feeling the course texture and then to the chains, enjoying the cool, smooth feel of the metal. He then touched the wood of one of the supports and even bent down to rub some hay between his fingers, then some sand from below the bag. If someone were looking at him right now, they would notice his eyes were closed while he spent time using his sense of smell and touch to learn about the things around him.

As he focused more and more, he started noticing that he could perceive what was in the area, every last bit of it. It was very different from using just his hearing to 'build' a 3D image in his head. Instead, he was able to tell everything that was there, even if it wasn't making a noise. He could notice some ants, crawling up the side of the wall outside. He could tell where a bird was sitting around lazily in the shade, just on top of one of the rafters. He would also detect what looked like sound waves coming from somewhere outside of the barn. Although he wondered what it was, it was outside of his range.

Although it didn't reach far, maybe about 10 meters, Laz knew everything that was in range of him at that moment. He seemed to reach an equilibrium where all of his senses were in tune and able to combine together, allowing him a type of sixth sense.

Amazed at the little things happening around him, he was able to notice some sounds coming from just outside his range. Focusing on it a bit more, he was able to tell that Bill was standing at the door holding what looked to be a hose while smiling.

"Oh, shit." But it was too late to stop it.

Laz had been just standing there in a daze with his eyes closed so as far as Bill knew, that was all he was doing. Turning on the high pressured water sprayer that he had grabbed from outside and started up, he sprayed Laz right in the stomach, causing him to be unable to take a breath and fall over.

"So you needed to cool off eh? You should have just asked. I am more than happy to help." Yelling over the sound of the water, Bill drenched Laz with the hose for a good minute before he set it down as though nothing happened and walked away again.

Laz stood there drenched as he regained his breath for a few moments before walking over to the bag. He squared his feet like he had been taught and started punching the spots on the bag again and again.

After the first 15 minutes, the cold water he was soaked with had given way to his own hot, salty sweat pouring down from his head..

After the next 15 minutes, his knuckles had started bleeding from the constant friction with the bag, so he switched it up to using the sides of his hands and palms. He even started kicking the sides of the bag more since he noticed that it was easy to hit the front spots but not the sides.

After a full hour had gone by, Laz was soaked now in only his sweat while his hands, arms, legs and feet were throbbing in pain.

On top of all this, Laz realized the paint hadn't faded or peeled in the least. It looked the same that it did when he started hitting it.

It was at this moment that he couldn't help but extend his new sixth sense to try to figure out the problem with the paint.

'This couldn't be an impossible situation right?' Was Laz's only thought about all this. He didn't think Bill would set him up like that so he could only try to figure out what the deal was with the paint.

Focusing himself, he was able to understand the way the paint adhered to the bag. It was a strong paint to begin with, but it had't bonded fully to the bag. The reason it wasn't coming off had to do with Laz.

He had been hitting the bag too lightly, not wanting to sprain his wrist again or break the bag. Because of his misgivings, he had only been hitting the bag with a strength similar to how guys would hit each other while play fighting. Enough to feel it, but not enough to hurt.

The throbbing Laz had felt was mostly due to the friction and the constant contact, over and over again. He had basically been wasting his time. Clenching his first a few times, he found that although it hurt, it was the skin and not the muscle which hurt. He punched the bag a few times, using more force behind the punch, enough to cause the bag to dent in a bit. This caused a bit of the pant to start tearing a little.

Seeing this, Laz knew he had found the right answer. He needed to adjust his force to use it in the most efficient way possible.

Trying to focus on the problem though had left Laz open for another problem. Before he even realized it, he was hit in the back with the high pressure water spray and sudden fell forward. Holding himself up on his hands and feet, he could feel the water sprayer continue to hit him, leaving bruises where it met direct skin.

"Thought you could use a drink lad. It is hot out here after all," Bill explained while spraying him down. This time, he kept blasting him for almost 3 minutes before he stopped. He then walked over to where Laz was on the floor and set a bottle of water on the floor before walking away again, back towards the house.

Laz just stayed there for a good 5 minutes while his body was trying to adjust. To be hit with cold water for that long after he had been so hot and sweaty, Laz felt more than a bit beat at this moment. He grabbed the bottle of water and took a few mouthfuls before setting it back down again.

He stood up and stretched out his back while widening out his sense. He had a feeling that Bill was going to keep doing this all day.

At the moment, Bill was inside watching a monitor next to Grandpa Crowe. The picture on the monitor was of Laz who had just taken the drink and went back to hitting the bag, over and over again.

"He's pretty tough for a kid his age."

"Of course, he is my Grandson after all."

"You going to tell him whats happening?"

"Soon, or maybe I will just die before then and save myself the trouble."

"You really want to leave that kid on his own?" Bill asked, a bit mad at his friends words.

"I may not have a choice. Pretty soon, he will only have himself to rely on. Isn't that what you told me?"