Return of the Cobra Kai
Chapter III: Atashi o shinjite!
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Chapter III: Atashi
o shinjite! (Believe in Me!)
Saturday night and most
teenagers would be on dates, hitting the Galleria mall or at Golf N’ Stuff. But
Sandy was used to spending the odd Saturday having dinner at Encino Oaks with
the old people. She pushed her rubbery chicken cordon bleu around her plate
smearing the oils from the overly buttered vegetables. She wore a pale blue
dress with an antique lace collar, and a matching satin headband. In her
peripheral vision she saw Johnny and his friends with a few girls sitting at a
table laughing over their food, a waiter brought them soda refills. Sandy made
a face at them, though no one noticed. By the buffet picking at the fruit were
Amanda and her wrecking crew. Sandy goggled at the bitch’s outfit, a shimmery
fuchsia dress that hung off one shoulder with a wide silver belt and killer
stilettos. It was befitting for a night club, not for the relatively
conservative atmosphere of a country club. Then again Mrs. van Houten, a former
pageant queen, thought every social venue was a competition.
“Sandy, I wish you’d
smile.” Mrs. Witten admonished leaning into her daughter. “These are important
clients and it doesn’t do the firm’s image very good if its best ad agents had
a daughter with a permanent long face.” Image, day in, day
out. Sandy was at least thankful her mother kept her job and stayed out
of her way the majority of the time. But it was times like these that
reinforced her leper status.
“You don’t have to remind
me mother.” Sandy groaned.
“Then smile, honey.”
Mrs. Witten pressed giving her daughter the fakest million watt smile before
returning to her conversation. Sandy mildly wondered if all this smiling had to
do with the fact the clients her parents were courting were from Mighty
Brite Toothpaste. She saw Amber, Ginger and Terri cluster around an empty
table conniving, as always. The three divas nodded and Amber broke away taking
with her a small plate with a pastry on it walking up to Johnny.
“Hi Johnny,” Amber said
with an undertone of breathlessness she thought was sexy. Johnny in the middle
of telling a long joke that he thought was killer turned around blithely.
“Oh, hey
Amanda.” She
set the pastry down in front of him.
“I thought you might like
one of these cherry tarts. They’re just dreamy…” Sandy stuck her tongue
out offended by Amber’s drawl, her appetite dropping off the radar.
“Cool, thanks.” Just as
Johnny was about to dig in, Amber stopped him and plucked the fork from his
fingers and sashayed herself into an empty seat beside him. Sandy’s face
crumpled in disgust as she saw Amber proceed to carve little bits of tart
feeding them to Johnny.
“Excuse me!” Sandy
signaled a waiter. “I’d like some Pepto please. I think I’m about to be
sick.”
“Sandy!” Mrs. Witten
reprimanded. “Control yourself!”
“‘Control yourself?’ Control
yourself? Mother, you have no clue how much I control myself!” Sandy’s
voice began to carry and it attracted attention. “You know what? I’m gonna show
you how much I control myself!” Sandy stalked over to the buffet.
“Sandy!” Her mother
shouted after her to no avail. Eyeing a china tureen filled with Gazpacho she
picked it up and hauled it over to Amber and her friends. The cheerleader shot
from her seat and got in Sandy’s face.
“What do you think
“Amber,” Sandy gently interrupted
her. “You’re annoying.” And hurled the soup on her, Terri and
Ginger. They screeched and blindly tried to wipe the cold vegetable
puree from their faces and dresses. Unfortunately Johnny ducked. Sandy picked
up a glass water pitcher with ice chips floating at the brim.
“Don’t you even think
about it, Witten!” Johnny barked.
“This is the least of what
you deserve Johnny Lawrence!” And she doused him catching Dutch behind him, the
girl beside Dutch leapt from her seat in the nick of time. Tommy and Jimmy were
under the table; Susan cowered behind Barbara who was shielded by Bobby. Sandy
tossed the pitcher hearing it crash somewhere across the floor and admired at
her handiwork.
Two birds with one
stone. Awesome!
“Sandra Marie Witten!” Her
father yelled, Sandy proud as a peacock turned and left the ballroom.
-------------------
On Lancashire Boulevard
above a notary’s office next door to the Chase bank was the Black Swan
Ballet Studio. Interestingly enough, across the street on the corner adjacent
of The Orient Express Restaurant was Kreese’s Cobra Kai Dojo. Lara was the
Black Swan’s instructor’s assistant, three days a week after school. Madame
Tagantseva already clocked out for the day, leaving Lara to sort through her
LPs and cassettes to rearrange and shelve them. Sandy alighted
the bus across the street from the bank and crossed. On the side door with the
studio’s black swan decal Sandy punched the buzzer to be let in. Lara was in
the boss’ hole-in-the-wall office up to her ass in vinyl and cassettes missing
their cases. She planned on asking her for a raise. When the buzzer went off
she intended to curse out the obvious prankster that was out of their mind for
hassling her.
“Get lost, jackass! The
studio is closed!” Lara snarled into the speaker.
“Lara… it’s me… Sandy. Can
I talk to you?” Sandy’s timid voice gave Lara pause. What in hell was she doing
here?
“What do you want, Sandy?”
Lara asked neutrally.
“To
apologize.”
-------------------
Sitting on Tagantseva’s
office floor surrounded by records an hour later, Sandy was feeling better
after having a good cry and Lara was feeling a whole lot more forgiving. But
she was far more impressed by her shy friend’s blatant act of revenge.
“So after you slimed van
Houten and her bitch monkeys, you put Lawrence and Dutch in the assed
out version of a wet T-shirt contest!” Lara cheered. “I love it!”
“I’m still shaking!” Sandy
admitted. “But, I don’t think I would have let myself get so angry about it
until I saw someone else do it first. Thanks Lara.”
“Y’know, it’s not so hard
to get pissed at those assholes.” Lara sing-songed.
“But I guess we all need different types of motivation. However, how could you not
get mad at those dick-waving assholes harassing you day after day?!”
“First off, it’s not an
everyday thing. We’re not in second grade anymore.” Sandy pointed out. “But
when it happens, my parents give me shit about me not being their friend- like
it’s my fault!”
“And so naturally, you
can’t say shit about anything.”
“Pretty
much.” Sandy
sighed. “Anyway, it’s not really about me being their friend, it’s about
my parents leeching Johnny’s father’s attention through me.”
“I don’t get it.” Lara
said a little guardedly.
“My parents work in
advertising, Johnny’s dad is an investment banker for one of those chichi firms
downtown. If the agency that my parents work for get a PR account with that
particular firm, the agency will make a hefty profit and my parents will get
bonuses.”
“And they were trying to
accomplish this through you? That’s gross!” Lara was disgusted.
“Mr. Lawrence is a
scumbucket. He’ll fuck anything young and firm with big tits.” Sandy stretched
out on the carpet. “Luckily, I’m not so big in the tits department. But he
leaves a trail of drool everywhere whenever Johnny brings over a girl- and that
was their whole plan.”
“I’m getting the picture
that life in Encino isn’t as privileged as it’s hyped to be.” Lara reclined on
her side.
“Nope.
for it.”
“I’m gonna regret asking,”
Lara began, “but what’s Lawrence’s mom like?”
“Bonafide
pillhead. When
she’s not at the spa, she’s usually nodding out somewhere.”
“Think she could spare her
kid a few?” Sandy laughed at Lara’s remark. “Lawrence could use some, paranoid
motherfucker…”
“What time is it?” Sandy
asked.
“Ten-thirty,” Lara replied
not looking at the clock.
“Jesus… I’ve gotta go. But
I can’t go home, not after what happened.”
“You can crash at my
place.” Lara offered.
“Is that cool?”
“My mother falls asleep
early and it takes a thermo nuclear device to wake her up.” Lara said rising
and collecting her jacket. “I’ll drive you back to Encino in the morning.”
“Thanks Lara.”
-------------------
The only light in the
house was the TV’s flickering blue glare from Ahna’s bedroom. She had her blue
tropical floral nylon kimono over her white satin slip as she slept listlessly
on her brass queen-sized bed; the white down duvet was rolled down to the
footboard. Silently Lara cleared the tray away on the nightstand, but kept the
vodka bottle and glass there. She left the TV on and shut the door quietly
behind her.
“We’ll have to leave early
tomorrow.” Lara told Sandy in a rushed whisper. “My mother works most weekends
and gets Wednesdays off.” She deposited the tray in the sink to wash it in the
morning. Lara gave Sandy one of her nightshirts and they shared her bed. They
slept until five in the morning and shared a box of chocolate Pop Tarts on
the back porch. Lara made instant Sanka for Sandy and a cup of Lipton
lemon tea for herself.
“This has got to be the
biggest house on the block.” Sandy said oscillating her head drinking in what
she thought as a charmingly aged atmosphere.
“It’s pretty old.” Lara
shrugged her shoulders rocking herself on the swing bench by the balls of her
feet. “A lot of these houses are recent developments. They’re not much older
than I am; at least that’s what my dad used to say.”
“The modern design is such
shit.” Sandy collapsed into one of the wooden porch chairs. “All
repetition and no originality.”
“You an
expert?”
“My parents have accounts
to do PR for all sorts of architecture and exterior and interior design firms.
The reps would send them these catalogs and design samples in order to cook up
ads. I liked looking through them. Everyone in my neighborhood is having their
house redone, pulled apart brick by brick and putting up glass and marble.
that right?”
Architecture.
wrong way. Her eyes shifted unconsciously to the back door,
inside there was a drafting table that had a layer of dust three or four
inches thick.
“Yeah I saw that movie.
“Join the club.” They
finished their breakfast and piled into Ahna’s blue jeep. Cruising through
downtown Sandy asked if she could put on the radio, Lara gave the okay.
Father’s just a voice
That you talk to
On the telephone
And mother’s wrapped up
In some kind of
business
She’s better left alone
“Think you’ll be
grounded?” Lara asked.
“Naturally.”
believe it if they could make it stick.”
“So it’s that way, huh?”
“They’ll forget like they
do everything else, and start all over again next time we go to the country
club.”
Modern Mom and Dad
Don’t know what to say
They’re always too busy
Or so far away
Modern Mom and Dad
They love you so,
They’re holding out
hope
For
your tomorrow...
Genevieve,
It’s all up to you
Genevieve
There’s only so much
That Mom and Dad can do
Bobby usually had early
starts on weekends to have the home gym to himself.
All the equipment was from his father’s stores, top-of-the-line professionally
tested and certified. He gingerly walked around Johnny who slept soundly
facedown in his sleeping bag looking to change into a pair of workout shorts
and an old T-shirt.
Fifteen years old
Doing hard time
Learning wrong from right
Dreaming of places
You’d like to be
In the heat of the
night
Trying so hard
To make them see
That you’re so much
older
Than you appear to be
Bobby heard the song from
behind his closed window and he pushed aside the thin spring rust-colored
curtains to see an unfamiliar blue jeep roll from around the corner. No one
owned a jeep in this neighborhood; he thought but then saw a very familiar
redhead and another girl in a blue dress jump out.
“Johnny!” He hissed trying
to rouse his friend. “Johnny!” The blonde stirred and moaned wrapping his
whipcord muscular arms around his head tighter.
“Five more minutes…” He
grumbled.
“Johnny!” Bobby’s tone was
more forceful this time around. He reluctantly rose and stomped over like a
petulant child to Bobby’s side.
“What?” Johnny’s voice was
rough with sleep and he brought his fists to his eyes to rub away the cobwebs.
Bobby pushed aside the curtain further and Johnny leaned forward to get a
better look through the window pane. He braced himself planting his hands on the
frame, his hands leaving partial prints on the glass.
“You’re shitting me…” He
swore watching Lara and Sandy approach the stained glass and walnut doors of
Sandy’s house just a little ways up the street.
Hoping to find
A woman in you
You’ll do anything
That I tell you to do…
Sandy rooted through her
purse for her keys. “You’d better take off. I don’t want my mom accusing you of
anything that’s not true.”
“Way of life around here?”
Lara flicked her head at the houses across the street. Sandy fit her key into
the lock.
“More than you know… I’ll
see you on Monday.”
“Bye.” Sandy waited until
Lara pulled the jeep away from the curb to go inside. Nevertheless, she had the
sneaking suspicion that her mother was already watching from the master bedroom
window. But it wasn’t her mother she had to worry about, Johnny and Bobby
dropped the curtain back in place and began their day.
Genevieve
What’s a young girl to
do?
Genevieve
There’s only so much
Mom and Dad could do
Growing up
In
the middle of a danger zone…
Growing up
It’s make it or break
it
With this desperate
crowd
This town is tough
And tougher
When you’re on your
own…
So please
Don’t leave, Genevieve
All
alone…
Oh Genevieve
Oh Genevieve