Sins of a Sensei

At the behest of my counselors, my parents did theirmy parents were eager for me to resume my
damnest to keep me preoccupied. Preoccupation wastempered behavior, which had become quite irrational
essential and theraputic, when consistent. Give anup in cowtown during Dad's absence. Even a heavy
ADHD'er an hour of unsupervised, unmedicateddose of good pentecostal discipline didn't keep me
freedom and bad things happened. I was no differentfrom stirring up trouble at grandma's house. This
and in a lot of ways, worse. My impulsive actionsculminated in the worst butt-whooping up to this
growing up placed me in a plethora of odd, harrowingpoint when I, a sixth grader, pissed off a well-known
and dangerous situations that, by themselves5th grade bully (he had 20 + lbs on me) whereby I
seemed "normal" for that age but soon I realizedwas punched repeatedly in the face during a football
they happened with an increasing frequency. Withgame until I was bloodied and dazed. I remember well
the burst of adrenaline associated with thesemy mother standing over me, chewing me out for
situations, my mind was as clear in that moment as itrunning my mouth and instigating the whole mess.
would ever be. It was euphoric, enlightening andShe needn't worry, I thought. My lips won't move for
appeared to me (and still does) that I function at mya few days anyway for they swelled so large even
coherant best when facing a "fight or flight" situation.Mick Jagger would be envious.But Dad was back,
So naturally, I put myself in these situations moreMom was happier than she'd ever been and we were
and more. I did a lot of bad. Sometimes I got caughtheading home to San Antonio. By the eighth grade I
but mostly I got away with it. For that instance ofwas a brown belt. One belt away from black. It was
adrenaline and endorphine rush, I was the smartest,a moment I longed for and knew it was just a
fastest and coolest person on the face of this earthmatter of time. Mark Nichols continue being my
and I was untouchable. Or so I thought.I wasn't"second father" and continued to impress my parents
untouchable the evening I spent the night at awith his control over me. For a spell, when I became
friends house, sometime during my 5th grade yearraucheous my folks even resorted in threatening to
and decided that at 3 in the morning we would takecall Mark and tell him of my antics, which usually
his fathers keys and drive his car around Lackland Airstopped the situation or reversed the behavior in it's
Force Base. Unfortunately for us we passed an MPtracks. I still had my moments but they were few
without our lights on. He waved at us to stop but weand far between. Achieving shodan status was the
plowed ahead, right into a large metal dumpster. Wemost important goal ever in my life up to that point
opened our doors and fled only to be caught andand I wouldn't let my erratic behavior jeopardize
arrested for joyriding. We were only 10 years old.that.Everything changed for me after a particular
Needless to say my ass looked like that of a baboonweekend outing at Canyon Lake, although I didn't
for a few days and I was grounded until the nextrealize why until much later. Most of the class had
winter solstice.It was clear then to my parents that Iattended this particular outing at our usual spot on
needed more than baseball and school to occupy mythe lake. Spread out in 3 cabins along the shore one
time. My violent outbursts at home as well as atnight, most of the students slept. In our cabin were
school resulted in excessive paddling and manymyself, students Dee, Chris C, Stacey C, Mark, his
instances of "running away." Typically, I wouldgirlfriend and another male acquaintance. We kids
disappear for about an hour or two. Sometimeswere running around here and there while the adults
longer. Once it was for 3 months. On more than onewere sitting at a table consuming large amounts of
occasion I threatened suicide and was even foundalcohol and spewing larger amounts of inappropriate
(as I had planned) hanging by my neck from thesexual lingo. These conversations peaked my
clothes rack in my closet by my mother. She slappedinterests and I listened intently. I giggled at the talk
me across the head, told me dinner was ready and Iof sex then proclaimed that I knew more about it
lived another day. I never seriously attempted tothan they thought, which I didn't. No sooner did that
leave this plane but I've never really found it verylie fly from my lips did I find myself being walked into
comfortable living here either.They enrolled me intothe back bedroom by Mark's girlfriend. This was
piano lessons, arts and crafts, boyscouts, sundaypretty damned exciting for a thirteen year old, I
school and church. I went to summer camp, wintermust admit. She immediately challenged my false
camp, baseball camp. All to no avail. Baseball was aprowess by removing her pants, then her panties,
given. A ritual necessity for the whole family. But asspreading her legs and slowly pushing my head into
in all other aspects of my life that too saw the besther crotch. She gave me a lesson in the fine art of
and worst of me. I was prone to games of brillance,oral sex although she never reciprocated. I am not
followed by horrendous play. I threw bats, got intosure if that pissed me off then but it sure does
fights, was thrown out of games and even disciplinedtoday. I remember tasting strawberry flavoring, like
right on the field for my impulsive, angry outbursts. Itshe had rubbed lip gloss or something down there
was a viscious cycle of violence, followed bybefore my pilgramage into the deep, dark somewhat
incredible affection (guilt perhaps). Of a heavenlymalodorant forest.I didn't remember anything else
peace one minute and Damian the next.Whilethat happened later that night for a full 15 + years.
perusing the youth center one day I stumbled acrossThe pieces were filled in during a recurrent dream of
a martial arts class in progress. Not permitted tosodomy some years later. That dream then became
enter the dojo I sat just outside, watching theentrenched in my waking moments. Then one day, it
syncopated movements, the rapid strikes and kicksrevealed it's first and only other character besides
and the unison chants of "Ki aye". The sensei, ame. It was Mark Adair Nichols. It was Mark Nichols
portly and short man, who wore a thick beared andwho entered my room later that night to sodomize
had piercing blue eyes, made his way in and aroundme and threaten me if I told anyone. It was Mark
the class as they continued their lesson.Mark NicholsNichols who assured my inherently agressive nature
always spoke in Japanese when speaking to his class.would turn violent, but this time directed not towards
Discipline, it was immediately apparent to me, wasinanimate objects as had been the norm but towards
the key to success as a martial artist as well as inthose I love, my friends, the innocent. I trusted no
life, as my parents tried so desparately to show me.one, not even my family. I was now armed and
I knew in an instant that I would be standing in theready. Ready to take on anyone who threatened me
next class.Over the next 4 yrs I would dedicatein any way. Fear permeated my existence. To build a
myself to Mark Nichols and the "Bushido School ofwall and to stand guard just inside it was my priority
the Japanese Martial Arts." The style wasnow. No one will ever penetrate it's walls ever again
Kobodo-jitsu with an emphasis on combat andto get to me. Those who would try would face a
weaponry. I immediately became a wiz with theviolent thumping. I enterend a new world after that
nunchaku and progressed rapidly earning my greennight on Canyon Lake. I didn't even realize why until
belt within 2 years. I also racked up quite a fewmuch later. Looking back, it was effective in keeping
trophies for placing in weapons kata and kumiteme safe but I also realized that while it kept the
(fighting). The pinacle came when I placed 3rd inunsavory out, it also kept out those I loved and kept
kumite at the US Amateur Karate Championship inme locked inside a dark, unforgiving, unloving
Houston at age 13 in my division. A few hours later Iplace.From around the time this particular horror came
was inches from falling 13 stories from the roof topto light, around age 27, I started carrying a 45 cal
of our hotel in downtown Houston. Needing anbullet with me. I would purchase the gun after
adrenaline fix I took the elevator to the top floor anddetermining Mark's where-abouts. I envisioned the
made my way to the stairs which opened up high onmarking M.A.N. on the metal casing for Mark Adair
the rooftop of our hotel. Followed closely by anNichols. For he was no man but a sick freak who
entourage of kids I made my way to the edge andwould get what's coming to him, if only I could find
looked over just as a mysterious gust of wind thrusthim. Subsequently it was determined that Mark
me forward leaving me flapping my arms in reverseNichols had raped or molested several young boys in
as fast as I could, at a 45 degrree on the ledge ofthat class. One in particular, CB appeared to have
the enormous hotel. Then I was pulled back by onegotten the worst of it, when Mark Nichols conned his
of the assistant instructors, who was no older than I.family into allowing him to stay at their place, where
I lay on the deck of the roof for what seemed anhe repeatedly molested CB over a 2 year period.I
eternity. I thought my heart was gonna spring fromsuppose because I immediately buried the incident in
my chest like "Alien". I believe I cried for a fewmy subconscious, I stayed with the class and
minutes and made my way downstairs to the safetycontinued towards my black belt. Coincidentally,
of my hotel room. Or so I thought.Mark Nichols tookalmost a year to the day later, I receive a "speed
me under his wing almost immediately. We wentletter" from Sensei Nichols stating that I would soon
everywhere together. He taught me about respect,test for my black belt and that I should start my
discipline and self-control. He lectured me aboutpreparations. I was witness to the indoctrination of
obeying my parents. He even threatened me. HeDDP during her blackbelt testing, the thought of what
stayed in close contact with my parents and keptshe endured that day haughted me. DD was
them abreast of my training and behavioral issues.pummeled by 3 instructors for a half hour straight.
Mom and Dad were immediately impressed andBloodied and bruised with tears flowing, not from
noticed a change within the first months of training.pride mind you but from pain and humiliation, DD
They both remember this period as some of thegracefully accepted her black belt. Now it was my
most peaceful and productive of my young life. Iturn. In hindsite I guess all Mark had on his mind was
stayed in baseball and continue to relish this newwhat was going through mine. Had I snitched on him?
peace within. I was in awe of this man who magicallyWhat did I remember? Did I know or understand the
"cured" me from my impulsive, angry outbursts andhorrors perpetrated against me that night on Canyon
helped me focus my energy on the positive, on theLake? I hadn't. It was tucked safely in my
arts and on success and growth. My gradessubconscious but Mark didn't know that.In any event,
improved, I continued to progress in rank andMark Nichols, DD and Sensei S. commenced to
eventually was helping the new students in the class.pounding me into submission. No gloves were used
On report of a problem at school I would not onlybut the fingers were taped to prevent gouging of
get a whipping at home but have to take one fromthe eyes. And for one half hour I was beaten to a
Mark as well. I would bow into to the dojo only topulp until I lay on the mat crying uncontrollably and
feel Mark's cold eyes fixed on me up until I wasbleeding profusely. After gaining my composure, I
called to the center ring where he punched andwas awarded my black belt, oblivious now of the ass
kicked me into submission.This happened more timeswhooping I just received but filled with pride at
than I could count. He would also have the otherachieving such a distinct honor. I had made it. I would
students/instructors punish me in similar fashion. Mygo forward and share my knowledge and skills with
6th grade school year was spent in Ft Worth withothers. I would now stand side by side with the
grandma but after Dad's return from the Phillipinesother instructors with honor, pride and a new-found
we moved back to Lackland and continued our lifediscipline that would change my life for the better. Or
there. I was eager to continue with my training, asso I thought.