"How many muscles in the butt?" he says, swinging his kali sticks towards me.
"Three main muscle groups. The gluteus maximus," I parry his attack on my right side, "gluteus medius and gluteus minimus." He strikes towards my unprotected face. If his attack lands, I could be disfigured or even lose an eye.
"You're missing one!" he says, his left stick inching closer to my face every nanosecond.
"Nope!" I reply, intercepting his attack. "The gluteal sulcus is supporting the butt, not in the butt, dad." I add, bringing my knee to his stomach. My unprotected face was a feint, and he'd fell for it. He was now within striking distance, and I took my shot.
"What's our magical number?" he grins while asking me this question. It seems it had taken my feint of his own accord, as his right leg, now outstretched, reaches behind me and sweeps me off my feet.
"Zero point— Cough-cough" I try to say, as I fall on my back. Hard. "Zero point seven." I grunt, dejected. He keeps his right kali stick under his left arm, and stretches his hand towards me.
"Correct. You've passed the test. Congratulation!" I catch his hand, and he pulls me back up.
"I passed? You kicked my ass, again. I've never won once against you in any martial art form!"
"But you've made tremendous progress in all of them. I almost got caught by your little feint at the end."
"But you didn't," I say, frowning and trying to understand his words. We've been practicing since I was 9. I'm almost eighteen. In those nine years, we've practiced Judo, Jiu-jitsu, Wing Chun, Muay Thai and recently Arnis. We've had literally thousands of 'fights' and while I've managed a hit or two sometimes, I've never actually won.
"Alex, sometime, a test is not just about winning or losing a fight. Today, you actually managed to direct the entire battle toward that one feint, and if I hadn't been fast enough, you would have put me down. This plus the fact that you answered all of my questions correctly, is a passing grade for me. So, what do you want to eat for breakfast today?" It was just five past eight in the morning, we'd been at it for about forty-five minutes. As we start stretching, I tell him I want pancakes, like mom used to make, with fruits. His smile lowers for a few seconds and a sad light flashes in his eyes before he acquiesces.
This has always been a touchy subject for him, but those last couple of years dad seemed to have made great strides towards accepting her death as a fact. She died during a mugging about eleven years ago. My dad had left me with my grandad for two years, before coming back and starting to train me in martial arts. He had learned them to avenge the love of his wife, but during his travel understood that vengeance would not bring her back. Instead, one of the mugger was sent to jail, and the other died of an overdose a couple of months before my dad came back. Teaching me martial arts as well as our family heritage had been therapeutic for him, and a very violent experience for me.
After stretching for another twenty minutes and a short five minute shower, we head for the kitchen. As he prepares the pancakes, I skin and cut the fruits in dices, before putting them in a bowl. Before we eat, we sit, close our fingers in perfect circles, bring our left hand against our right to form a nice figure eight, and recite the family mantra.
"Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember that nothing is true. Where other men are limited by movies or magazines, remember that the feel is the only answer. We work in the dark to search for the light. We are ass~assins."
My family, the Lucas, has been butt-obsessed for generations, since one of our ancestors got into a fight with the Breckans, a rival family obsessed with boobs. Yes, the premise of the fight was being an ass man or a boob guy. Yes it is as ridiculous as it sounds. At least for me. The two ancestors almost killed each other in the argument. Not metaphorically, the Breckan old man walked out of it without his left arm and a ruptured lung, while the Lucas master had to be wheeled out of the fight after losing his left leg and right foot. Since then, both our families have been in search of "perfection" to show who is right.
My father was a renowned plastic surgeon, focused on the posterior aspect of things, until he got into a fight with a minion sent by the Breckan family, and lost his practice license. It was also at this time that we lost mom. He was in a really dark space at this point. Training me has allowed him to pick himself back up, and soon, he'll pass in front of a commission to see if he can get his license again. It will be at this point that I will leave the familial ground to explore for two years, before starting to work. Usually a Lucas goes into medical school to become plastic surgeon at 24-26. I'm almost 18, and will spend 2 years traveling, to find myself and my inspiration. That's what the old guys call it, when in fact, I'm supposed to go and chase skirts to study The Ass in the real life, instead of in papers or online.
Truth is, I'm actually more of a boob guy myself, though I wouldn't say no to a plum little butt. I mean, I never had any of the two yet, so I can't say for sure. And becoming a disappointment to my dad after what he's been through isn't really in my plans, so I never told him my deep preference. And with time, I also came to appreciate the beautifulness of asses, to a reverential level. So I adhere pretty strongly to our family covenants. I still like tits, though, but not as much as butts.
And don't worry, I see you coming with "that's because you only learned about butts so you don't know about tits". That's where you're wrong, know thy enemy and shit. I learned about as much about the breast region as I did with the posterior region. The human body makes it that everything work together, so learning only one part of it would be detrimental anyway. I know more about the ass, but I know the tits very thoroughly, don't even worry about it.
"Alex, what are you thinking about? I see you dreaming over there," my dad calls me out.
"I was thinking about our family and stuff, why do we do things and stuff like that. You know, real profound thoughts."
"Right. I thought you were picturing a perfect ass in your mind. I was almost disappointed it wasn't the case."
"Dad, I'll show it to you if I ever find it, but for now perfecfion is just a dream."
"I hate how you found that word accidently."
"Prefecfion? Haha, I know." It's stupid, really, I was writing homework about, well about the usual, and listening to some songs. One of them, a French electronic rap was playing. I learned French and Spanish to complement my studies. Anyway. At one point I was writing the word perfection, but I made a typo, writing "perfecfion" instead. "Fion" is a French vulgar term for ass, so it made me laugh and I showed it to my dad, before we realized it actually made sense for our family. So we kept it.
"So, those profound thoughts brought you something good?"
"Not really, but now that I think about it, it's about time I pass my driving license, right?"
"Yup, already ahead of you champ. I booked the driving test for this afternoon, 2pm."
"Alright!" As I say that, I finish the last pancake and we start cleaning the table and dishes. As I walk towards my room, my dad calls me.
"Where are you going?"
"It's 9:30, I'm going to do some self study, like every morning?"
"Nope, not today. You're coming with me to town. We're browsing for your first car this morning."
"But I don't have the license yet."
"I know, we won't buy it until then, but it will give you an even stronger motivation to know that your car is waiting somewhere."
"What if I fail the first time?"
"Then your car will be waiting, but someone else might snatch it before you do."
"This is terrible! You're terrible! I'm going to stress out like hell!"
"I know, this is going to be great," he says, with a big grin on his lips.
"Where are we going? I don't think there are a lot of car dealers in our small Sartrovilla."
"You're right, we're going down to City L today. They have three dealerships for you to check out."
"Hey, I heard there was a convention in the Arena center this week. Will we check it out later?"
"Nope, I don't like City L, it has weird, bad vibes. If not for the three dealerships, I wouldn't even be coming in here today."
"Is it about the supernatural stuff that we keep hearing about? Do you believe it?"
"It's not a question of belief, I don't feel good when I'm there."
"Alright, if you say so…"
After checking out the first and second car dealers, I come across one that really speak to me, and agree with the salesman to keep it under option for today, that I should be coming back later in the afternoon, or calling to drop the reservation. After that, we go just out of city limits to eat. My dad feels better as soon as we pass the city sign. He is really serious about it. I personally don't feel anything, and when I tell him about him, he shuts down, and forbids me to go to the convention.
Fine, I'll go to a convention somewhere else, damn. The cosplay girls are more approachable targets than most women, since the goal of most of their costume is putting their assets under exposure. I'm thinking of going to California during my trip, with the Santa Monica pier and beaches and the San Diego Comic Con within about a two hours drive from each other. Talking about it with my dad seem to take his mind off City L for a while. At least until it's time for me to take my test...
I aced it. I passed my driving license, and I bought my car. I'm coming home with my dad today, but I'll be picking it up in about a week as they had some after-sale verification to do with the car before allowing it on the streets.
So, I'm taught about everything my dad thought about teaching me, I can fight pretty damn well, I have a car and a driving license, all I need is to pass my eighteenth birthday, and I'll be going out of the familial home, spreading my wings for two years. I now count the weeks, with a mix between apprehension and excitement. I'll be sad to separated from dad and grandpa, but I can't wait to see what the world has to offer.
"So, remember when I told you to find inspiration?" my dad asks. "I left something out."
"What is it?" I ask, with a small foreboding.
"Well, inspiration is our term for muse."
"Is that it?" I say, breathing a sigh of relief. "I understood that, you want me to flirt and chase girls. I got it dad."
"Not really. I do want you to enjoy yourself, but the end goal is not just the picture of the perfect ass. It's the perfect ass itself."
"I'm not following…"
"Every Lucas, for the past four generations, have left the nest at eighteen, before coming back at twenty."
"Yes, I know that."
"They come back at twenty, with their perception of the perfect ass, and their muse. Their living inspiration."
"Are you saying…"
"Yes, while you are traveling, you must find yourself a wife."
"What the hell?!"
"You don't have to take exactly two years, you can take less or more time if you need to, but you won't be able to come home if you're not accompanied."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"I never had the time to do it…"
"Of course you did! You had plenty of time! And I got a question for you, what if I was gay?"
"Well, I mean, are you?"
"That's not the question, what if?"
"As long as you find the perfect ass for you, even if it's a male ass we would be okay with it, but we would be even happier if it was a cute lady's bottom."
"I can't believe it. You want me to get married at twenty?!"
"You know, there was a time when people married their children before they were even born, so I think you're lucky, somehow?"
"Am I? I'm thrown out the house to roam the world and won't be accepted until I'm married!"
"I mean, you can be engaged, we'd love to hold the marriage ceremony, but yes."
"Unbelievable!" I storm off to my room and yank the door close behind me.
"Well, that went well." I hear the faint voice of grandpa.
"Dad, not now please."
"Hur, hur, remember when I told you? You shut yourself off for four days straight. You only came out at night when you think we were sleeping so you could sneak a bite."
"Yes, I remember. I just hope he won't blame me for too long."
"How long did it take you to stop blaming me?"
"Until I found Katherine. After that I realized it was just you helping me out, saying that I was welcome to come home with a girl, rather than asking me to marry just anyone to come home."
"There you have it. It was the same for me, it will probably be the same for him. Don't worry about it too much."
"Thanks, dad," I faintly hear, it seems they moved to another room now.
Will I find a girl? I mean, the gay talk was just to upset him, but they're pretty open, that's a good thing. But there's a pretty nifty difference between flirting around and looking for wife material. You know what, screw it. I'll manage on the spot, for now I still have two weeks left. I want to manage a bug hit on my dad before I leave, just because of the lie. In any case, those two weeks are going to pass in a blink...
They did not. Those two weeks were the most excruciating I spent training. Dad seemed to notice my intention, so he doubled his own efforts to stop me from accomplishing my goal, and gave me even more homework than ever to take revenge for "forcing his hand in training". I didn't manage a hit. He fell for a few feints, but still manage to defend himself. Now, we're at the gate. Grandpa, dad and myself. My stuff is in the car, the road map is traced, and I just need to say goodbye.
"So, this is it, huh? Are you still mad about the wife thing?"
"I'm mad that you lied to me, yes."
"But not about the marital obligation?"
"I don't know how I feel about that, yet. I'll tell you when I come back."
"Alex, sonny, take care of you. I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you to grandpa. Don't worry, I'll call you from time to time."
"Will I be missing you?"
"Don't know, we'll see."
"Will you call me?"
"Nope. But I'll answer if you text me that you got your practice license back."
"That's cold..."
"Imposing a prerogative to your loved one? Isn't it like forcing them to do something to allow them something else? I wonder, dad."
"Alright, you got me. Come here, Alex," he says, pouncing towards me. I would try to dodge, but I know that he'll eventually catch me, and the struggle is often painful. He catches me and forcefully hug me. I can't help but hug him back. I still resent his lie, but he's my dad. I still love him. "Take care, son. Enjoy yourself."
"I will, thank dad. I love you," I say, sneakily, while sliding out of his arms and hiding in the car. As I drive off, I see them in the rear-view mirror, waving towards me. I fight the tears off, but it doesn't prevent my throat from getting a bit stuffy. I cough for a bit, and turn the radio on. It's time for the little bird to jump off the nest and soar. Direction, California. As the music starts in my car, I recite our family motto to give myself a dose of courage.
"Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember that nothing is true. Where other men are limited by movies or magazines, remember that the feel is the only answer. We work in the dark to search for the light. We are ass~assins."
Let's do this. My name is Alex Lucas, 18, on the hunt for perfecfion.