“Yeah, I think so too.” My voice came out brittle around the familiar lump in my throat, the one that always accompanied her name. All the fond memories I try to keep alive never protect me from the sorrow. If anything, the sweetness of them deepens the ache. Grief, I’ve learned, isn’t just the presence of pain, it’s what absence leaves behind. It’s a ghost, sometimes invisible, other times haunting me in the most torturous of ways. It’s the shadow of love that no longer has a place to land.
“Which is why, what I want you to take away from this conversation is that it’s more than okay to be scared and still want to fight. And I admire the hell out of you for wanting to fight, Ollie.”
His mouth fell open in surprise. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do. I admire every step you’ve taken to break free, and the person you’re turning into. You survived, that’s defiance. Getting up every day in a world that tried to crush you, that’s rebellion. Courage isn’t about living without fear, it’s about showing up anyway. And that’s what you do. Every damn day.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“It’s the truth. And if you’re ever in a situation where you need to defend yourself again, I’m going to make sure you have the tools to kick ass.”
“Well, then, you best get back to showing me all those mad skills and badass moves.”
“Your command is my wish.”
“That’s not how the saying goes.”
“It’s Walker improved, makes way more sense that way.”
“Does it now?” Oliver asked, voice dipped in that particular brand of teasing that had become his trademark around me. The amusement in his expression said he knew I was about to launch into some absurd Lukeism. He arched his brow as if to saygo on then, hit me with your nonsense.
“Alright, hear me out. The whole phrase, ‘your wish is my command,’ most famously quoted by the genie in Aladdin, is all backwards when you remember the genie is bound to serve and obey whoever rubs the lamp. He doesn’t get a say, he has to grant whatever the lamp owner wants. Total no-agency situation. But now, flip it, ‘your command is my wish.’ You see how the meaning changes? Like, I’m not just obeying, I’m choosing to do the thing. It’s consent and enthusiasm.”
Oliver laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “You’ve thought way too hard about this.”
“Think about it! The first says, ‘You tell me to jump, and I’ll do it ’cause Ihaveto.’ The second says, ‘You tell me to jump, and I’ll do it ’cause Iwantto.’ Wouldn’t you rather the person who wants to show up than the one who’s just following orders?”
Oliver’s expression turned thoughtful, a little mournful, probably remembering all the times he had to say yes, not willingly but in order to survive. “You have a point.”
“Good, now that I’ve gotten you to see it my way, philosophy class dismissed, Walker’s rambling hour over. Drill time. You ready to actually learn the move so you can get out of somebody’s grip without thinking twice?”
“Ready, Coach.”
“Okay, I’m going to come up now and wrap my arms around your waist, like a real attacker would, but slower. I’ll lock my arms around you, but I won’t squeeze.”
Closing the distance I wrapped my arms around his torso, lacing my hands together above his navel.
I walked him through the first steps. Grab the attackers hands to anchor yourself, drop your weight into a squat, and stay low. From there, pivot, sweeping your inside leg behind the attacker’s, then taking hold of them behind their knees.
“Now for the fun part,” I said once he was in the right position. “You’re going to lift me up and flip me backward onto the floor.”
“You’re joking, right? Pick you up? You’re like, twice my body weight.”
“Hey now, let’s not exaggerate. I’m at most one-point-eight times your body weight. But this isn’t about brute strength. You’re not throwing me across the room. You’re using momentum, positioning, and your own center of gravity to get me off balance. That’s all. Doesn’t matter how big or solid I am.I’m not exempt from physics. I promise, I’m going down. Just trust the process, or at least trust me. Didn’t you learn from the last drill that I know what I’m doing?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his body tensing as he drove upward, flipping me to the floor. My back hit with a small thud.
“I did it!” he exclaimed.
“See? Effortless.”
“Can we do it again?” he said, bouncing with excitement.
“We can run through as many times as you need to be confident in the steps. That was badass,” I said, loving his enthusiasm over his success. I couldn’t say no to that.
After several more tries, Oliver said, “What about ground attacks? Vince used to... he’d pin me to the floor. A lot. Is there... is there a way out of that?”
“Yeah. There is. We can run through a scenario or two, if you want?”
