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Annie for you. Where the hell is Yoko?” Jack asked.
    â€œSpeaking of the lady of the manor, I do believe I hear the sound of her chariot approaching,” Bert replied.
    â€œThank God! I’m freezing my ass off out here. You know what? I think I will bunk with you tonight. I’ll text Nikki now and tell her. We can pick up some Chinese or Italian. I’ll buy.”
    â€œSounds like a plan to me,” Bert said as he watched Yoko park the car and run through the rain.
    â€œIs something wrong?” Yoko asked as she hit the overhang and started to wipe her face with the sleeve of her jacket.
    â€œYeah, Yoko, something is wrong,” Jack said. “We need to talk. Do you want to talk in your apartment upstairs or in one of the classrooms?”
    â€œLet’s go upstairs so I can make some hot tea. It’s cold and damp. Aren’t you freezing out here?”
    â€œWe are, but we were waiting for you, and the smell of Clorox was especially strong today.”
    â€œI understand. Come along. It won’t take long to make the tea, and yes, Jack, I know you only like Lipton. I keep some just for you. Bert?”
    â€œI’ll go with the Lipton, too.”
    Yoko made a sound that could have been laughter. Bert looked at Jack and rolled his eyes as they followed the tiny woman through the dojo to the stairs that led to her and Harry’s apartment on the second floor.
    Within ten minutes, the tea was ready, and the three of them were seated at a tiled kitchen table. “Talk to me,” Yoko said after the tea was served.
    Jack took the lead. “Listen to me, Yoko. We, Bert and I, wouldn’t be Harry’s friends if we didn’t . . . What I mean is . . . Harry is like a brother to both of us. You know that. It’s not working for him. Surely you can see that. That . . . that guy in there, his so-called master, has to be at least one hundred fifty years old. He sleeps through Harry’s training. Harry is training himself. He is still at the same level he was at when he started three months ago. He has not gained one bit of ground. There’s no way he can be ready or even hope to win at the trials if he doesn’t switch gears. Can’t he get a new master or something?”
    â€œMaster Choy is one hundred three years of age. He is full of wisdom, as all the ancients are,” Yoko said softly. “It would be disrespectful for Harry to say otherwise.”
    â€œWith all due respect, Yoko, what good is he to Harry if he sleeps all day? Didn’t you hear me? Harry is essentially training himself, and he is not advancing beyond his own level. Can’t you do something? If you can’t or won’t, will you tell us what to do?”
    â€œHarry is my husband. I cannot interfere. It must be Harry’s decision. I can tell you this. He is not sleeping. He has lost weight, and he is not eating properly. All I can do is be supportive of his endeavors.”
    Bert’s eyebrows shot upward. “Even if it means he will go to the trials and lose face? There must be something we can do.”
    â€œHow much are you paying that master?” Jack snarled.
    â€œA fortune,” Yoko said sadly. “We have had to tap into our nest egg. It is a complicated monetary situation, one neither of you would understand. I have been staying late at the nursery and doing most of the work myself to cut back on expenses. We pay all the expenses for the dojo out of the nursery profits. My money is dwindling.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make sense, Yoko. Those old ways don’t work here in the United States. You pay for something, you expect a return on that money. The guy just sleeps. Two days ago, I turned the surveillance cameras on and the old guy did not move a muscle for seven hours. And he damn well snores.”
    â€œWhat do you want me to do, Jack?” Tears sparkled in Yoko’s eyes.
    â€œI want you to fire the son of a bitch. Bert and