Poem: "Aim a Little Above It"
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ysabetwordsmithThis poem is spillover from the February 1, 2022 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from mama_kestrel, see_also_friend, and kelkyag. It also fills the "Forgive" square in my 2-1-22 card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by fuzzyred. It belongs to the series Polychrome Heroics.
"Aim a Little Above It"
[Saturday, November 21, 2015]
Nagi was walking briskly through
the deep and foggy woods of
the Short Forest Park in Eureka
when someone jumped out at her.
The young man was tall and
far too skinny as he waved
a plastic gun in her face.
"Give me your wallet,
now!" the man demanded.
Nagi used her walking stick
to flick the pathetic gun
out of the attacker's hand.
Then she used her short height
and her heavier weight to get
under his center of gravity and
dump his ass on the ground.
He flailed around in the leaves,
trying to get his long legs under him.
Nagi pressed the tip of her staff
to his chest, pinning him. "Quit."
He stopped moving and faced her
with such stoic resignation that
she began to worry about him.
Now that Nagi could see his face,
he was even younger than she
thought -- barely more than a boy,
late teens or early twenties at most.
His bony wrists poked out from
frayed sleeves. His hair was
buzzed short, but a scruff of
mustache and beard suggested
that he couldn't always shave.
Nagi lifted her staff away.
"Why did you try to rob me?"
"Cause I haven't eaten in
two days!" he blurted. "I've
tried panhandling, but I suck
at it -- nobody notices me.
At least this way, I can turn
that to an advantage. Usually."
Nagi frowned, more worried
than ever. "Well, that won't do,"
she said. "Pick up your trash,
please, and let's get going."
She flicked her staff at
the sad remains of the gun.
Its flimsy plastic casing had
come apart and now lay on
the ground in several pieces.
The boy gave a heavy sigh
and tried again to get up, but
didn't seem to have much energy.
Nagi caught his elbow and then
lifted him lightly to his feet.
He stared at her. "The hell?
How did you just do that?"
"I still practice archery for fun,
even though I quit competing
years ago," Nagi explained.
"Uh ... huh," he said, then
went to pick up the bits.
"Give me half," said Nagi.
"We'll drop this trash into
two separate cans, just
to make sure nobody else
gets any more dumb ideas.
You're lucky that you didn't
blow your fool hands off."
"Yeah, probably," he said.
"I've never had to fire it."
"That's good," she said.
"My name is Nagi, but
nowadays most people
just call me Nana."
The boy snorted.
"Yeah, you look like
somebody's harmless
granny, until you turn into
a pissed-off grizzly bear."
"Not a bear, just an old ninja
who still knows a few tricks,"
Nagi said with a lazy smile.
"I tried to rob a ninja?"
he said. "I am so bad
at this. I'm worse at
robbing people than
I am at panhandling."
"You certainly don't know
how to pick helpless victims,"
said Nagi. "What's your name?"
He pressed his lips together
and shook his head silently.
"Oh, what shall I call you,
then?" she said mischievously.
"Mori-kun? Tanto? Lost-His-Gun?"
"My name is Gabe!" he snapped.
"You don't have to make fun of me.
It's bad enough you already beat me."
"Are you all right?" Nagi asked. "Did
you break anything when you fell?"
"I'm fine," Gabe said tightly.
Nagi looked him over, but
couldn't see any injuries.
"All right," she said. "If you
change your mind, let me know.
It's a good half-mile to the trailhead,
and then Boho Beans is a couple of
blocks past that. I'll buy you lunch."
"What? Why?" Gabe said, startled.
"You won. That means I go hungry."
"You going hungry is what got us
into this mess, so no, we're not doing
any more of that," she said firmly.
Gabe still looked stubborn and
wary, so she didn't push it, just
led him out of the dim woods.
Along the way, they disposed
of the gun fragments. "Where
did you get this?" Nagi asked. "If
someone's selling this nonsense,
we need to know before anyone
gets hurt trying to shoot it."
"Nobody's selling it, I just
tweak the computers to print
one bit at a time," said Gabe.
"The individual parts aren't
flagged, only the plans that
are out in the public view."
"That's a relief," said Nagi.
"We'll find you something
better to do with your time."
Gabe fell silent again. He
was too stoic for his own good.
When they came to the coffeehouse
she said, "This is Boho Beans. They
sell drinks and light food. If you can
sweep or wash dishes for an hour,
they'll give you a meal for it."
Gabe's eyebrows went up.
"Sounds too good to be true."
"Then just watch and see what
happens with other people, and
you can join in whenever you
feel ready," Nagi told him.
Some of her kids had been
shy, and you really couldn't
push them. You had to wait.
Inside, the place was warm and
cozy after the cold fog. It had
colorful rugs and pillows strewn
mismatched tables and chairs.
Nagi bought soup, croissants,
and sunrose tea for both of them,
plus a sunbutter brownie for herself.
She looked at Gabe's hand, which
was turning blue in places, and
added an order of crushed ice.
"Eat slowly," she warned him as
she put the food on their table.
"You need something light after
going so long without, so don't
stuff yourself or you'll get sick.
Put the ice on your bruises."
The soup was California Blend,
made with riced vegetables, so
it should be easy to digest.
Gabe wrapped the ice inside
a cloth napkin and put on his hand.
Then he huddled around his food.
"How can you be so relaxed
after what I did?" he asked.
"You have to relax when you’re
shooting an arrow. You can’t
be tense," said Nagi. "And that
just helps, in your day-to-day life."
"Sounds nice," Gabe said wistfully.
"It took a lot of work to develop
that skill," said Nagi. "I'm sure
you could, too, if you tried."
"Nah, I'm no good at relaxing,"
Gabe said as he nibbled carefully
at his lunch. "World's too rough."
"That's why we need to relax,"
said Nagi. "I found things that
worked for me, like archery and
photography and family. You'll
figure out what works for you."
"I dunno," said Gabe. "I'm
still ... pretty messed up."
"So was I after the tong
attacked my sister when I
was a tween," said Nagi.
"I learned ways to cope with
my problems. So can you."
"Why would you even do
all this?" said Gabe. "Bring
me back here, feed me,
instead of calling the cops?
Most people don't just forgive
someone who tried to rob them."
"If you would hit the mark at long range,
then you must aim a little above it, for
every arrow that flies feels the pull
of the Earth," Nagi explained.
Gabe shook his head. "I don't
get it," he said. "What does
that have to do with me?"
"Because I'm aiming at
more than one morning,"
said Nagi. "If I called
the cops, that wouldn't
solve your problems.
I want them solved."
"Why?" said Gabe. "It
would be way easier just
to wash your hands of me.
Like everyone else does."
"Easier, yes; more effective, no,"
said Nagi. She finished her soup,
then cut off a corner of the brownie
and ate the rest. "I've spent years
fighting supervillains head to head.
I learned that there are better ways
of making them quit crime than by
bashing them with a stick."
Gabe winced. "Yeah,
that was unpleasant."
"Show me your hand,"
Nagi said, and this time
he did. It was a bit bruised
but not fortunately not broken.
The ice seemed to be helping.
"Here," she said, pushing
the last bite of brownie at him.
"This much should be safe."
Gabe pounced on the morsel
and devoured it. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," said Nagi.
"Now, let's find some other way
for you to feed yourself than
by ambushing people."
"I don't ... really have
any skills," Gabe admitted.
"I didn't do well in school, and
my family isn't much of one."
"Then we'll work on that,"
said Nagi. "I know plenty of
strategy games, which are fun
and teach long-range thinking.
There are all kinds of crafts and
outdoor activities I could show you."
"I guess I could try, but I'm really
not very good at things," Gabe said.
"Don't worry about that," Nagi said,
offering him her hand. "I'll help
you with it. What do you say?"
Hesitantly he took her hand.
"Okay ... Nana," said Gabe.
Aiming a little above where
he currently was, she had
hit right on the mark.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, location, and content notes will appear separately.
mama_kestrel, see_also_friend, and kelkyag. It also fills the "Forgive" square in my 2-1-22 card for the Valentines Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by fuzzyred. It belongs to the series Polychrome Heroics."Aim a Little Above It"
[Saturday, November 21, 2015]
Nagi was walking briskly through
the deep and foggy woods of
the Short Forest Park in Eureka
when someone jumped out at her.
The young man was tall and
far too skinny as he waved
a plastic gun in her face.
"Give me your wallet,
now!" the man demanded.
Nagi used her walking stick
to flick the pathetic gun
out of the attacker's hand.
Then she used her short height
and her heavier weight to get
under his center of gravity and
dump his ass on the ground.
He flailed around in the leaves,
trying to get his long legs under him.
Nagi pressed the tip of her staff
to his chest, pinning him. "Quit."
He stopped moving and faced her
with such stoic resignation that
she began to worry about him.
Now that Nagi could see his face,
he was even younger than she
thought -- barely more than a boy,
late teens or early twenties at most.
His bony wrists poked out from
frayed sleeves. His hair was
buzzed short, but a scruff of
mustache and beard suggested
that he couldn't always shave.
Nagi lifted her staff away.
"Why did you try to rob me?"
"Cause I haven't eaten in
two days!" he blurted. "I've
tried panhandling, but I suck
at it -- nobody notices me.
At least this way, I can turn
that to an advantage. Usually."
Nagi frowned, more worried
than ever. "Well, that won't do,"
she said. "Pick up your trash,
please, and let's get going."
She flicked her staff at
the sad remains of the gun.
Its flimsy plastic casing had
come apart and now lay on
the ground in several pieces.
The boy gave a heavy sigh
and tried again to get up, but
didn't seem to have much energy.
Nagi caught his elbow and then
lifted him lightly to his feet.
He stared at her. "The hell?
How did you just do that?"
"I still practice archery for fun,
even though I quit competing
years ago," Nagi explained.
"Uh ... huh," he said, then
went to pick up the bits.
"Give me half," said Nagi.
"We'll drop this trash into
two separate cans, just
to make sure nobody else
gets any more dumb ideas.
You're lucky that you didn't
blow your fool hands off."
"Yeah, probably," he said.
"I've never had to fire it."
"That's good," she said.
"My name is Nagi, but
nowadays most people
just call me Nana."
The boy snorted.
"Yeah, you look like
somebody's harmless
granny, until you turn into
a pissed-off grizzly bear."
"Not a bear, just an old ninja
who still knows a few tricks,"
Nagi said with a lazy smile.
"I tried to rob a ninja?"
he said. "I am so bad
at this. I'm worse at
robbing people than
I am at panhandling."
"You certainly don't know
how to pick helpless victims,"
said Nagi. "What's your name?"
He pressed his lips together
and shook his head silently.
"Oh, what shall I call you,
then?" she said mischievously.
"Mori-kun? Tanto? Lost-His-Gun?"
"My name is Gabe!" he snapped.
"You don't have to make fun of me.
It's bad enough you already beat me."
"Are you all right?" Nagi asked. "Did
you break anything when you fell?"
"I'm fine," Gabe said tightly.
Nagi looked him over, but
couldn't see any injuries.
"All right," she said. "If you
change your mind, let me know.
It's a good half-mile to the trailhead,
and then Boho Beans is a couple of
blocks past that. I'll buy you lunch."
"What? Why?" Gabe said, startled.
"You won. That means I go hungry."
"You going hungry is what got us
into this mess, so no, we're not doing
any more of that," she said firmly.
Gabe still looked stubborn and
wary, so she didn't push it, just
led him out of the dim woods.
Along the way, they disposed
of the gun fragments. "Where
did you get this?" Nagi asked. "If
someone's selling this nonsense,
we need to know before anyone
gets hurt trying to shoot it."
"Nobody's selling it, I just
tweak the computers to print
one bit at a time," said Gabe.
"The individual parts aren't
flagged, only the plans that
are out in the public view."
"That's a relief," said Nagi.
"We'll find you something
better to do with your time."
Gabe fell silent again. He
was too stoic for his own good.
When they came to the coffeehouse
she said, "This is Boho Beans. They
sell drinks and light food. If you can
sweep or wash dishes for an hour,
they'll give you a meal for it."
Gabe's eyebrows went up.
"Sounds too good to be true."
"Then just watch and see what
happens with other people, and
you can join in whenever you
feel ready," Nagi told him.
Some of her kids had been
shy, and you really couldn't
push them. You had to wait.
Inside, the place was warm and
cozy after the cold fog. It had
colorful rugs and pillows strewn
mismatched tables and chairs.
Nagi bought soup, croissants,
and sunrose tea for both of them,
plus a sunbutter brownie for herself.
She looked at Gabe's hand, which
was turning blue in places, and
added an order of crushed ice.
"Eat slowly," she warned him as
she put the food on their table.
"You need something light after
going so long without, so don't
stuff yourself or you'll get sick.
Put the ice on your bruises."
The soup was California Blend,
made with riced vegetables, so
it should be easy to digest.
Gabe wrapped the ice inside
a cloth napkin and put on his hand.
Then he huddled around his food.
"How can you be so relaxed
after what I did?" he asked.
"You have to relax when you’re
shooting an arrow. You can’t
be tense," said Nagi. "And that
just helps, in your day-to-day life."
"Sounds nice," Gabe said wistfully.
"It took a lot of work to develop
that skill," said Nagi. "I'm sure
you could, too, if you tried."
"Nah, I'm no good at relaxing,"
Gabe said as he nibbled carefully
at his lunch. "World's too rough."
"That's why we need to relax,"
said Nagi. "I found things that
worked for me, like archery and
photography and family. You'll
figure out what works for you."
"I dunno," said Gabe. "I'm
still ... pretty messed up."
"So was I after the tong
attacked my sister when I
was a tween," said Nagi.
"I learned ways to cope with
my problems. So can you."
"Why would you even do
all this?" said Gabe. "Bring
me back here, feed me,
instead of calling the cops?
Most people don't just forgive
someone who tried to rob them."
"If you would hit the mark at long range,
then you must aim a little above it, for
every arrow that flies feels the pull
of the Earth," Nagi explained.
Gabe shook his head. "I don't
get it," he said. "What does
that have to do with me?"
"Because I'm aiming at
more than one morning,"
said Nagi. "If I called
the cops, that wouldn't
solve your problems.
I want them solved."
"Why?" said Gabe. "It
would be way easier just
to wash your hands of me.
Like everyone else does."
"Easier, yes; more effective, no,"
said Nagi. She finished her soup,
then cut off a corner of the brownie
and ate the rest. "I've spent years
fighting supervillains head to head.
I learned that there are better ways
of making them quit crime than by
bashing them with a stick."
Gabe winced. "Yeah,
that was unpleasant."
"Show me your hand,"
Nagi said, and this time
he did. It was a bit bruised
but not fortunately not broken.
The ice seemed to be helping.
"Here," she said, pushing
the last bite of brownie at him.
"This much should be safe."
Gabe pounced on the morsel
and devoured it. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," said Nagi.
"Now, let's find some other way
for you to feed yourself than
by ambushing people."
"I don't ... really have
any skills," Gabe admitted.
"I didn't do well in school, and
my family isn't much of one."
"Then we'll work on that,"
said Nagi. "I know plenty of
strategy games, which are fun
and teach long-range thinking.
There are all kinds of crafts and
outdoor activities I could show you."
"I guess I could try, but I'm really
not very good at things," Gabe said.
"Don't worry about that," Nagi said,
offering him her hand. "I'll help
you with it. What do you say?"
Hesitantly he took her hand.
"Okay ... Nana," said Gabe.
Aiming a little above where
he currently was, she had
hit right on the mark.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its character, location, and content notes will appear separately.
(no subject)
Date: 2026-05-25 11:31 am (UTC)And Gabe either has the worst luck or best, when it comes to picking victims. Although, if he has the skills to tweak computers like that, he's got a marketable talent when it comes to I.T.