Hedge Hopping

He's gonna suffer. Not me. Him. It's in my eyes. Within. It burns. Only blows will stop. I spit water. The ugliest possible. A long stream of saliva and dirty water. I open the mouth, full of despise and let go. All of it. He's next. Waits for his turn. He can wait. He can watch. He can wonder.
I clench two fists on the tap. Knuckle against porcelaine. Grey with sweat, fists tight with agonising bands. I lean a bit for the tap hole. Forearms contracted, shoulders tense. All muscles visible. They draw what is to come. I'm ready. He's gonna suffer.
It already started. Here. In the showers. Before the Ring. He's eager now. Yeah just like that. Dance on your feet. One after the other. He can hope. He wants it to stop. He wants to drink. He doesn't want it now. Not yet. Not here. He's gona suffer. For sure.
I haven't finished. There's still to come. I hock up. Loud. He can hear. I've gotta big one. I spit it. Slow. I love it. Saliva and mucus meleted. It's good. Just what's needed. Ugly. It stains. Porecelain is white enough. It's spoilt now. I turn on the tap again. Wash mouth. Another long stream, other tight muscles.
Then I pretend to notice him. I barely look in his direction. I'm off. Put gloves on. Right first. Then left, as far as I can. A punch on one, then the other. I go for my corner, turn around. He's already here.
This time I look at him. A head higher. Obvious quadriceps. Shaved head. Veins running along biceps. Big shoulders. Abs. No doubt: he's a monster. If I get it wrong, I'm dead. But not today. Today he's gonna suffer.
Whistle. Salute. Fists against fists. Tough but not much. And in the eyes. Just in the iris. He wonders. He's asking why? Why all this stuff in the showers. A real beast except that I don't look like it. Not even the face of it. And surely not a big tatoo on the back. Not like him who blows flying kicks like a windmill. But now it's traditionnal. English boxing. My ground. And something's wrong. He doesn't get it. He's gonna suffer.
It starts. I lean a fist. Not even armed. Barely aimed at his head. He doesn't even block, or react. A wimp. I'm a wimp who believes he's tough. I'm sure he thinks so. He's gonna fall. For sure.
But I dodge. I take in. Not too much. He mustn't know. Not yet. My fists are there. I disappear when needed. But I let it go. Let him crush me. I counter a bit. Just the minimum. And of course, had to happen, a receive a good one.
On the bone cheek, under the right eye. He wants to stop. Pretends to worry. I'm already back on guard. And in one of his eyes, on the corner, he smells confidence. It's for now. He's ready. Gotta be good. He's done. He's gonna suffer.
All my muscles. I call them back. I need everything. And I' scared also. He must not see it coming. This is big. In one strike, all must come in one strike. Because I know. Because I saw. And the head also, must stay cold. As in training, facing the mirror, when shadow boxing.
He's back on guard. He still doesn't get it. So he does it again. Like before. Just a bit less. A direct, a feint, a hook. But now I block. And it's tough. He has to feel it. He can't pass. With all these blows, he's gonna bruise his bones. My guard's gonna hurt like rock. The he won't dare. Not as much. He's done. It's all done.
He leans a lot...It went straight and fast. Between the eyes. He saw it coming. He got scared. And it hurts. I know the feeling. And everything stops. I watch him. No feet moving. Still guard. Two red fists on pause. His head goes back.... and forth. Like rubber. Another right, followed by another. Two in less than a second. Same spot. He saw coming. But couldn't block. Scared.
I let my guard off. Pretend to wonder. He can't say no. We're too far. He's done. Trapped.
After that I fight straight. Tough but straight. And he suffers, takes in. He can't get me. Even when he comes back, just as I feared. When he hits hard. I hit harder. Everytime above. Harder. Faster. Smarter. He can't win. Not after that. Not after the sink, the feints, the pity, and the true fighting. Not after noble art.
Me a cheater? Not after what I've seen. Not after the girl he knocked out, or the guy he smashed. And this during training. He doesn't deserve to be here. I hate his pleasure. I hate people who have this pleasure.
So when the techer put us together. I looked at him. I remembered. And there was one thing to do: crush him. One thing to think: he's gonna suffer. And forget the rest.

A very true feeling in Aix-en-Provence, 2000.
Darwin, 18th April 2005.

Once upon a time, and a good time it was, a fair young woman lamented amidst the rocky shores of Innishowen. Etain was her name. She was the most beautiful girl of the mourning county; but a griefful curse was upon her. From dusk till dawn she kept reciting this chant:

"I remember the frost of the wind in winter time.
I recall the heat of the sun in summer time.
I hear the song of the corncrake when spring awakes.
I smell the joy of dolphins when autumn arrives.
I embrace every loop of every path of Inishowen.
I breathe the shores from Innis Head to Dunaff Head.
I finger the sands of Trawbreaga and Carrickaveal.
I even walk through the secret gates to the Other World.
But my heart is still painful when I breathe. My will is no stronger than a candle in the storm.
Why, oh why, does nothing await me?
Why, oh why, does nothing move me?"

The wind was taking her lament away to the East, to Garvan islands where only birds live.
They all knew Etain's chant by heart but none of them could join her, for the western winds were too strong. They could see her when passing by Wee Malin House, but she never noticed them.
One sundown, and a strange dawn it was, the tide went out and never came back. The sea retired from the coast and left nothing but dry land. Even the strong gales from the West drifted away. The north coast of Hibernae became a rocky field crammed with brown seaweed and orange stones.

Without any further waiting the birds flickered directly towards Etain's shelter. Amongst them gathered Albatross, Gannets, Shear Water, Skuas and Auks. There were also Redwings, Finches and Snow Buntings. An amazing spectacle it was, but not a soul to admire it.
Etain was standing on the entrance to Danngus Bens where a secret tunnel leads to Ancient's fort. She was shedding so many tears that her whole body seemed like a shuddering.

The flock of birds almost concealed the sky, but hardly a sound came from them. They were all appalled by Etain's solace. Floating around, they tried to draw her attention. Only a sad whisper echoed. When the moon rose high and the stars enlightened the dark, Etain sheltered in the Wee House of Malin. The flock followed her inside. There were so many of them that it would have taken a man's life to count them. Nevertheless they all entered the hollow rock for, in the Wee House, no matter how many came, there was always room for more.

Standing on a boulder Etain was surrounded by the birds but hardly a sound could be heard for no bird dared to bother her.
"Go away birds", said she, "for nothing moves me anymore. Please leave me with my solitude." None of them moved.
Only the tallest of the birds risked an answer "Why are you so weary?" said the Albatross.
She refused to answer.
"You are young, fair and beautiful. But still you stay alone all the time. You do not deserve solitude. Why don't you take a man?"
"Three times I took a man. Three times I cried. I will not bear another sorrow anymore".
The Albatross stood silent for he was clueless.
Then a little redwing flew upon Etain's shoulder and piped the following:
"What did you see in their eyes? Men's gaze is an open gate to their heart."
"See?" answered she, "What a strange way of speaking. I know only the salty one and men do not taste so".
The Redwing asked again "Are you saying that you cannot see?".
"Again, little bird, you are speaking in a sound manner. Men and Sea are different. They have nothing in common."
The Redwing, smart as it was, was unable to clear up the misunderstanding. He proposed the following:
"We people of the sky, travellers of the seas and wanderers of the lands are going to search for a man who can see. He will tell you what his eyes discover and, then you will be surprised by what lies in a man's heart."
Etain grimaced at first. Eventually, she accepted the birds' proposal, though without any conviction.

Henceforth, the birds scattered away from Wee House, from Innishowen, from Mourning County, from Donegal, from Ulster, from Hibernae. They went North and South, East and West and never came back.

A month passed, and Etain forgot the challenge amidst flowering tears of despair.
Time flew until a foggy dew spilled over Malin Head. A man arrived, looking for a shelter where he could rest. He entered the Wee House as if he always knew/had always known the place.
"Good evening Etain", said he
"Good evening Stranger", said she anxiously.
"My name is Eoghain", added he to reassure her.
"Welcome then, Eoghain" answered she, relieved.
After a silence he said in a confessional tone "I have come a long way for you"
"For what reason have you come?"
"For the birds of the North warned me that in Malin Head was a young woman who did not believe that women could see"
"I still do not believe that"
"What if I told you what I see? Would it be proof enough?"
"Tell me what you …"see" and I'll make up my mind."
"I see a beautiful woman standing alone in a grey rocky house without any fire inside"
"You have a smooth and even voice, Eoghain, but I do not believe you. You say I am beautiful only because you want me. You say there is no fire because cannot feel any heat. Grey is a sound word but still a lie because it does not exist."
Eoghain sighed but said nothing. He rested for the night and went away in the morning.

The following night a strange storm embraced Malin Head. A second man arrived, looking for shelter. He entered the Wee House.
"Good evening Etain"
"Good evening stranger"
"My name is Echùn"
"Then welcome Echùn… from the North" said she ironically.
"No Etain I come from nowhere else than/but the West. Birds told me that in Malin Head was a woman who did not see what was in men's eyes"
"I am not convinced at all"
"Tell me how can I change your mind"
"Tell me what you pretend to "see"..."
"I see a beautiful lady with blonde flowering hair, deep grey eyes and charming lips. She lives in a dark hollow rock , in a country where rivers are black, boulders green-bearded, rocks dark-orange, hills brown and the sea turquoise. She is alone but shall not be alone for much longer."
"You have a grave and slender voice, Echùn, but it is only a cover cast upon lies. You flatter my body because you desire it. And the qualities or flaws with which you describe my country are pitiful attempts to soften my ears. They are mere melodies, not truths"
Echùn sighed twice. He wanted to add something but did not. He tried to rest. By the morning he was gone.

The following night a strange coolness settled in Malin Head lands. A third man arrived, looking for nothing.
He entered the Wee House as if he did not know it.
"Good evening" said he
"Good evening stranger" answered Etain.
Silence flew around.
"Do you have a name stranger?"
"I have but it would mean nothing to you."
"For what reason have you come here" asked Etain anxiously.
"I have no reason"
"Did not the birds of the East asked you to come here?"
"I have seen many birds but none spoke to me."
"Don't you pretend to see like other men?" asked she in a shrill tone.
"To see? What a strange question!"
"Tell me what you "see" here and now!" imposed she angrily.
" I only see a lone woman who is never surprised." Whispered the nameless.
" Your voice is smooth and grave but you're just like the others. You cannot "see"."

The nameless did not answer and stood still for the whole night.
When the sun rose up, a queer sound woke Etain up. There was water dropping next to her hand. It was not raining for there was no damp.
"Who or what is pouring water?"
"It is me Etain" echoed the nameless.
"Why are you crying?"
"Three nights I came, three nights I changed my voice, three nights I told the truth… three nights you distrusted me. I am sad and you will never see it."

And, for the first time of her life, Etain opened her eyes and saw what lied in a man's heart.
As for the nameless man, he took his bag and stood up. He gazed deep into her before turning back to the long dark night. Since then he goes from valleys to oceans, mountains to forests, telling the only story he knows by heart : the story of the woman who was never surprised.

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Foundations of English 12 -- Themes... Hedge-hopping Excerpts from The Straight Story. HEROES/HEROINES/VILLAINS/ORDINARY... Hedge-hopping Trifles. DISABILITY: Opening Doors The Will to Win ...www.harcourtcanada.com/school/ english/foundations/themes.htm - 13k - Cached - Similar pages
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Missiles (MISS2)Hedge-Hopping titr_bullet.gif Cruise Missile Terrain-Following Navigation.Flight testing of the Apache cruise missile (MATRA Defence source). ...www.onera.fr/cahierdelabo/english/miss2_vid.htm - 4k - Cached - Similar pages
The Attacks of 11 September: Who Profits from the Crime?... first floors of the front of the building, hedge-hopping as it approached,... to crash into the building by hedge-hopping, avoiding any collision with ...www.serendipity.li/wot/june2aa/june2aa.htm - 50k - Cached - Similar pages
B-17 Flying Fortress Art Prints... hedge hopping at low altitude after being severely damaged on a mission. ...at 30 to 50 feet, hedge-hopping all the way, to Switzerland and safety.www.cranstonfinearts.co.uk/dhm2515.htm - 60k - Cached - Similar pages
SCIENCE & TECHNOLOGY: Made in Russia... far from its bases and hedge-hopping through the enemy's air defences. ...this kind - a cruise missile capable of hedge-hopping 5 thousand kilometres ...www.vor.ru/science/madeinrus8_eng.html - 4k - Cached - Similar pages
LIGHTS IN THE SKY (LITS) UFOs About 60% of all incoming UFO ...... A TYPICAL BOL CASE - The Hedge-hopping Sphere ... they described it as hedgehopping moving from their right, across the road, departing to the left. ...dspace.dial.pipex.com/town/square/el82/lights.htm - 5k - Cached - Similar pages
Talk Back... I fly in the UK with vfr terrain mesh and scenery and hedge hopping aroundthe Welsh mountain passes is a breathtaking experience . ...www.avsim.com/cgi-bin/ talkback.cgi?article=raspitfire&action=view&matchview=5 - 7k - Cached - Similar pages
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