The bout resumed, the Hillcrest skeleton charging at Butch like he was late for an appointment. Butch retreated and parried, again, a third time, before the skeleton stumbled, stepped off the strip, forcing the director to halt the action.
“Riposte, Butch.” Coach Dan’s arms folded across his gray and white jacket. “Soon as you parry, riposte.”
“Oh!” Butch nodded, began to crouch into en garde position — stopped himself, looked at Coach Dan. “What’s that mean?”
Jimmy clucked his tongue, Rune hid his smile behind his hand. Coach Dan stared at Butch, extended his left arm. “Parry — ” he brought his right hand slowly across his body, touching his left forearm with the palm — “riposte.” His right arm coming forward, pointed straight at Butch.
“Oh!” Butch paused, attempting to absorb the two words spoken by his coach. “So, do you want me to do that?”
Rune could feel Coach Dan restraining himself from rolling his eyes. “It’s up to you, my friend.”