James Gong – The Big Hit
Paul Collins has a black belt in both taekwondo and ju jitsu. He was trained in kick-boxing by former Australian Heavyweight Kick-boxing Champion, Dana Goodson.
He trained with the Los Angeles Hell Drivers and later served time in the army with 2 Commando Coy.
He drew inspiration from these experiences to write James Gong – The Big Hit. His last book was Harry Kruize, Born to Lose.
Paul has written over 140 books for children and young adults and several books for adults.
Check out his website at www.paulcollins.com.au
Also by Paul Collins
Harry Kruize, Born to Lose
The Jelindel Chronicles
The Maximus Black Files
The Warlock’s Child
The Spell of Undoing
The Slightly Skewed Life of Toby Chrysler
Rich & Rare (ed.)
Trust Me! (ed.)
Trust Me Too (ed.)
James Gong – The Big Hit
by
Paul Collins
To Ethan Dean, Co-star
Published by Hybrid Publishers
Melbourne Victoria Australia
© Paul Collins 2020
This publication is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process without prior written permission from the publisher. Requests and enquiries concerning reproduction should be addressed to the Publisher, Hybrid Publishers, PO Box 52, Ormond, VIC Australia 3204.
First published 2020
ISBN 9781925736458
Cover design and interior illustrations: Matthew Lin
Chapter One
My name is James Gong and this is the story of how I became famous. Not that I wanted to be famous! Dad says I’m just the kind of kid who sets out for the North Pole and somehow ends up at the South Pole.
My friend Ethan says that’s because I’m stubborn, and when everyone else stops, I keep going. Jay says it’s because I’m too self-obsessed to notice I’m passing the North Pole. Jay pretty much lives at our house some days. (Ever since Jay’s mum died, my mum has kind of taken over the job of looking after Jay.)
My sister says there probably won’t be any North Pole by the time I get there, on account of global warming.
But enough about them. Let’s talk about me.
You’ve probably heard of me. Most people have.
My story was in the papers, and on TV even. If you saw that photo of me then you also know I’m bald-ish. Or was. My hair is growing back now.
But yes, I’m that kid. The Most Famous Kid in High School kid. Cover of Who Magazine kid. Kid voted most likely to have a Gigantic Impact on the World! That’s who I am.
Jay says the asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs had a Gigantic Impact on the World. I guess that’s a lot to live up to.
I’m fourteen years old. Dad says I’m short for my age but I make up for it by being slow. Dad likes to kid around. Ha ha ha.
On a more serious note, it’s Saturday, and I’ve got taekwondo training.
I’ve been doing taekwondo for four years now. (Some people, like my mum, call it Korean karate.) I’m on my cho dan bo, which is a red belt with a black stripe – that’s the one before black. Training’s hard, but the chief instructor, or qwang jung in Korean, just says to train harder. There are a couple of things I’d like to tell him, but don’t because as Dad says, I was ‘brought up, not dragged up’ (and Mr Choi would go ballistic if I answered back. He’s very much a ‘be seen and not heard’ type of guy. Dad says, ‘He’s a product of his generation’. Which means, an old bloke stuck in his ways and no one will ever shift him.
‘I am training harder, Mr Choi,’ I whine. ‘If I spend any more time here Mum will put out a missing person’s alert.’
His eyes twitch. ‘Your dobok, very dirty. Don’t you have a washing machine?’
We have a washing machine – Amber tried cramming me in there when she couldn’t get the microwave door shut. But dirty clothes don’t just magically stick themselves in the machine, duh. (I know I’m 100 per cent right on this one, because Mum says it all the time.)
Long story short, I forgot. So clap me in irons! Throw away the key! Restrict me to less than 30 hours of video-gaming per week! Think I can’t handle that?! Ha!
After sitting in the dirty clothesbasket for a week – with no Harry or Hermione to wingardium leviosa it to the washing machine – my uniform does pong a bit (for all the brain-starved victims of our current education system, that’s Pong with a P, P-O-N-G, not to be confused with Gong with a G). I should’ve sprayed them with deodorant.
According to Ethan, the only thing that smells worse than sweaty taekwondo gear left in a bag for a week is skunk spray, which skunks shoot out of their bum. It’s true. Ethan went on holiday to America last summer and one day he thought he’d pat the cute little kitty-cat he found in the woods. And although it’s usually Ethan who loses things, after this his parents tried to lose him. Luckily, he found them. Chartering an entire aeroplane just to fly home was a bit much though.
‘I’ll wash it first thing,’ I promise Mr Choi. ‘And iron it,’ I add quickly. I gag silently as I pull my taekwondo top on. What a pong-with-a-P!
Mr Choi isn’t very, um, pleased. See, I’d forgotten a camera crew was coming to film a segment of My Life at the hall tonight. Mr Choi reminded everyone last week to make sure their dobok had the club badges on, and that all members turn up neat and tidy.
My heart plummets when I see the cameras and lights. Mr Choi is going to barbecue me (slowly) just like his favourite Korean dish (pork belly). My shoulders slump. Ethan and Jay wave to me from across the room as I join the front line of the class.
‘Shoulders back,’ Mr Choi snaps, glaring at me. ‘Make firm stance. Good. Let nothing move you from your stance. Not even your very bad smell.’
Everyone giggles. Several guys look at me and pinch their noses. Bunch of comedians.
I do as Mr Choi instructs and pull my left fist into my hip and place my left foot back. I try to look cool with all the cameras pointing my way. Mr Choi’s got the focus pads, holding them at different heights and distances as he calls out front kicks, side kicks and roundhouse kicks in Korean: ‘Ap chagi. Yeop chagi. Dollyo chagi.’ Arms and legs shoot out like pistons, connecting with the pads, ka-thump-ka-thump-ka-thump! He shifts the pads around faster and faster. The kicks and punches become blurs.
By the time he’s finished calling out every bit of Korean any of us know, he says ‘Shiole!’ and we all fall back