Chapter 1
The smell of coffee filling the kitchen as raindrops splattered against the tiny window was like a morning prayer, an affirmation of life going on. Tory Nichols would stand in the center of the kitchen watching the rain and breathing deeply, reminding herself that she was alive. No matter what sort of pain that fact entailed, it was enough to feel that simple slice of rain, coffee, and life.
Coffee dripped into the ridiculously scratched carafe, mugs clanged against the counter as she pulled them from the cabinet, and Tory made her way to her mom’s bedside with a mug in each hand. Just as she always did.
“What’s your plan today, bug?”
Tory shrugged as she sat down on her own bed. The trailer was a decent size, which meant that she could at least have her own corner of the room even if she had to share most of the space with her mom. Regardless, she had never known any different and therefore couldn’t imagine her own room enough to want it too badly.
“Well, you’ll just have to give me a rundown at sundown,” her mother chirped. She took a long sip from the coffee and held the mug close to her chest as she sighed.
“There’s…um….there’s this grand opening thing for this karate dojo,” said Tory. “In the old plaza by the Sunoco, yknow the one?”
“That old thing? Nothing’s been there in years.”
“Exactly. I guess they must’ve gotten a good deal or something.”
Tory’s mom took a few sips of her coffee, then smiled. “That’ll be fun. I’ll be looking forward to that rundown.”
Ripples ran across the coffee in Tory’s mug. The rain was slowing down and she would have to leave soon if she wanted to make it to the opening class. The flyer had advertised that everyone was welcome, but she’d seen the fine print even if no one had bothered to write it. Everyone with money.
She was standing and kissing her mother on the forehead, murmuring goodbye, collecting the empty mugs and rinsing them quickly. Nothing felt concrete until a few final drops of rain nailed Tory on the cheek. She wrenched open the car door and started it up. The time flickered on the radio display. If she didn’t hit any traffic, she’d make it.
But there was almost never any traffic. Sometimes, Tory found herself cruising along Main Street and wishing for traffic. Traffic was such a universal experience. Traffic, like doing dishes and filling out bills, was supposed to be one of those common daily chores that everyone loved to complain about but always dealt with anyways. Not in her town. “Traffic” in Tory’s experience had never been more than a few cars, maybe a 10 minute delay.
Traffic meant life, in Tory’s opinion. Having your day be derailed by unpredictable traffic meant that others had had their plans thwarted as well. How could Tory grow up without ever having sat in traffic for an hour? She didn’t dare mention it to anyone, but the lack of traffic irritated her. Sometimes, she thought about driving to the city just for the chance to see the traffic.
The parking lot of the abandoned plaza held more cars than she could ever remember seeing in it. Nevertheless, Tory only counted about six. Not enough for traffic, and not enough for a successful karate business. She parked in the corner, as far away from the others as she could get.
From what Tory could see through the window, the dojo itself was clean and looked appealing. Two men stood on either side of the front door bickering with each other. As she approached, one of them, a taller blonde man in a black uniform, whacked the other in the shoulder.
“Hey, what the hell—“
“LaRusso, shut up. There’s another one,” the blonde hissed. He nodded at Tory solemnly and stuck out his right hand.
She recognized him quickly, despite only seeing him a few times several years ago: Robby Keene’s father, Johnny Lawrence. Tory and Robby had been closer friends as kids, when Johnny had still lived nearby and been a part of Robby’s life. In middle school, Johnny had left with no warning and Robby had distanced himself from almost everyone. Shannon Keene, an old friend of Tory’s mother, had taken over in Johnny’s absence and, according to Tory’s mother, prohibited Johnny from coming back into her son’s life.
“Welcome,” said Johnny Lawrence genially. “I’m Sensei Lawrence.”
“Tory Nichols.” She carefully shook his hand, wondering what he was doing back in Blue Creek as a karate instructor.
“This is Sensei LaRusso.” Lawrence jerked his head at the shorter, dark haired man. “You can head inside while we wait for any more students.”
Tory nodded and stepped through the door.