We talked with my parents for a while, enjoying the heat of the fire. I listened to funny stories about Mason’s experiences in thepublishing world, and listened as he asked my parents thoughtful questions about the sport they loved so much.
Mama K and Mama D started arguing about an MMA fight they had seen recently, talking about grappling, strikes and scoring. I knew Mason was really trying to follow what was being said, but he seemed completely out of his element.
They were trying to explain the rules of Mixed Martial Arts to Mason, and why one of their recent fights had resulted in a disqualification because their opponent had performed a headbutt.
“I don’t get it,” Mason said, shaking his head. “Why would he have even thought a headbutt would be useful in that situation, unless he wanted to cause real damage? You said he was shorter than you, Diana? I keep thinking that even if he’d connected, your teeth would have hit his head and just cut him up badly.”
“Yes, and no,” Mama K said. “I think he used it because a lot of his early training was in Krav Maga,” she said, her slight Spanish accent becoming more noticeable as the evening progressed. “Krav Maga is a kind of no-holds barred reality-based fighting. There are also some forms of full-contact karate that permit headbutting, but by and large in MMA, it’s a big no-no.”
“Why is it worse than any of the other strikes?” Mason asked.
“You can do a lot of serious damage with a headbutt, if done correctly,” Mama D said. “You can break the nose, shatter a cheekbone, or break the zygomatic bones of the eye and cheek.”
Mason winced, and I seemed to remember something from his medical records mentioning a fractured zygomatic bone. I hugged him a little closer to me as my parents continued.
“If done with enough force and skill, you could kill someone with a head butt,” Mama K added. “Here, let me show you.”
“Um, thanks, no…?” Mason got out as she pulled him to his feet. She laughed at his expression as he stood there, and I could see the uncertainty in his eyes as he glanced from her to me.
“Don’t look at me, babe. This is a rite of passage in the Devereaux household,” I said.
“So, Mason, you are the big, strong man, right? I’m this poor,helpless female…” She sing-songed her voice and batted her eyes at him. The look on his face was hilarious. I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe. I knew what came next.
“You come up behind me, and wrap your arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides,” she began, showing him how to stand and hold her arms. “I can’t break free, you are stronger than me. But what I can do is get momentum,” she leaned forward just a bit, then her head shot back quickly. I saw Mason’s eyes go wide as she halted her movement, stopping her head just short of his nose. “I use my momentum and the weight of my head like a wrecking ball. I swing it back, connect with almost anywhere on your face, and not only are you injured, you are stunned from the force of the blow and you risk a concussion. And unless you have somereallygood training, you are likely to release your grip on me as well.”
I watched Mason’s face as he soaked it all in. I was afraid this might have been too much for him, because at first, he seemed stunned and hesitant. Slowly, though, I saw his mind working through the different scenarios and I could almost see the pieces falling together for him.
“What if you hit the mouth? Wouldn’t knocking out teeth be painful, too?” he asked.
“Eww… No…” Mama K said, making a face. “Human bite wounds can get infected badly. Avoid the mouth, if you can. Hit the nose, the cheekbone, the eye socket.Don’tgo for the chin. The only time you should try for the chin is if you can hit it from below, like an uppercut.”
They continued for a little longer, Mama K and Mama D taking turns demonstrating different offensive and defensive moves for him. The look on Mason’s face when he flipped Mama K onto the carpet was exultant. We finally had to wrap things up since the moms had to be at work in the morning.
As we were leaving, Mama K stopped me.
“Mijo, you need to bring him to the dojo so we can show him a thing or two,” she said.
“Mom, I don’t know if he’s going to be here that long…” I began.
“Lee—” she stopped me with a finger to my lips. “Bring him. He will feel a lot better if he knows how to defend himself.”
My eyes must have widened comically because she laughed at me.
“Your mother and I have been working with victims of abuse and neglect for more years than you have been alive, baby boy. Womenandmen. It’s not hard to see the signs on this one,” she said, nodding out the door toward Mason. “Just…be careful with your heart, baby.”
I nodded, hugged them both close, then jogged out to the Jeep where Mason waited for me.
He looked at me curiously. “Everything okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Mama K wants me to bring you to the dojo. She thinks you have potential,” I said. Mason grinned at me. “Interested?” I asked as we pulled out of the driveway.
“Actually? Yeah, I am,” he smiled, almost as though in surprise at his own response.
As we drove home in companionable silence, I couldn’t keep myself from smiling, too.
“Thank you,” he said, breaking my train of thought as we drove home.
