Jake said nothing.
“It wasn’t.”
I leaned on the cane.
“You took it from an old man who needed it.”
A woman near the front lowered her phone.
I continued.
“If I had never trained a day in my life, would that make what you did funny?”
Jake looked down.
“No.”
“If I couldn’t defend myself?”
“No.”
“If I fell when you pulled it away?”
He swallowed.
“No.”
“Then my past has nothing to do with whether you were wrong.”
Nobody moved.
I looked around the spectators.
“This is the part people always get backward.”
“You see somebody weak.”
“You think the lesson is: be careful, because maybe they’re secretly strong.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“The lesson is don’t mistreat people because you think they’re weak.”
Jake’s friends had stopped smiling entirely.
Daniel folded his arms.
Jake stared at me.
Then finally said:
“I was messing around.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean anything.”
“I know that too.”
“You made me look stupid.”
“No.”
His eyes lifted.
“You did.”
His face tightened again.
I continued.
“And that’s good news.”
“How?”
“Because if you did it, you can stop doing it.”
He stared.
I held out one hand.
“My cane.”
He looked confused.
“You have it.”
I lifted it.
“The respect.”
The crowd stayed silent.
Jake’s jaw tightened.
For a second, I thought he would walk away.
Instead he looked down.
Then said:
“I’m sorry.”
I waited.
He looked up.
“For taking it.”
I said nothing.
“And for laughing when you almost fell.”
Still nothing.
Jake exhaled.
“And for challenging you.”
I smiled slightly.
“That part I didn’t mind.”
Several people laughed.
Even Jake almost did.
Then Daniel stepped closer.
“Jake.”
He looked at his instructor.
“You’re done with today’s demonstration.”
His face fell.
“Master Kim—”
“No.”
“But—”
“Your competition status is suspended at my school until we talk.”
Jake stared.
“Because I lost?”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“No.”
“Because you still think losing is the important part.”
Jake had no answer.
He walked off the mat.
His friends followed more slowly.
Neither laughed.
The festival resumed twenty minutes later.
Life does that.
