Stealth of the Ninja

by Philip Roy

  “In Bonavista Bay?”

  “Yeah, you never know.”

  “I was wondering if maybe I should hang around here a bit longer so that I could learn from Himari.”

  “Oh. I see. I suppose she could also teach you how to paint.”

  The thought had occurred to me. “That wouldn’t be such a bad idea. That would give me something to do during the long stretches at sea.”

  “I don’t know, Al. I’d kind of wonder if you’d ever leave once you started taking lessons from her.”

  “Of course I would.”

  “The truth is, Al, you’ve got to get to sea as soon as that last coat of paint is dry.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Are you forgetting that you’re a wanted man, Al, here and in Australia? You’re enjoying a sense of freedom right now because I’m here, and because the tsunami and nuclear meltdown have required many local police to go to the mainland to help out. Once they come back, and once I’m gone, the chances of your getting stopped and questioned go up one thousand percent. And that’s all it would take—one questioning by an officer, who would immediately realize you’re not here legally. And once they figure out who you are … Make no mistake about it, Al, you’d be playing a dangerous game. You wouldn’t be the first man to spend a lifetime in prison after enjoying a few weeks with a lovely girl.”

  Ziegfried had such a way of putting things sometimes.

  “I guess so.”

  “There are lots of pretty girls in Newfoundland, too, you know.”

  “Yeah.” I had never seen anyone like Himari in Newfoundland, and I didn’t feel like looking.

  “If you like her so much, why don’t you invite her to come visit us there?”

  “Really? Do you think I could?”

  “I don’t see why not. I bet a girl like that would really enjoy such a trip. I know Sheba would love to have her. And then you could learn all the judo and painting you want.”

  “That sounds pretty good. I wonder if she’d come.”

  “Only one way to find out. For now, Al, let’s just focus on getting you back in the water as quickly as we can, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Ziegfried’s words were more accurate than I could have imagined. Within a few days we started to notice more police presence on the waterfront. It felt almost as though they were looking for me, but that was just my nervousness about getting caught, Ziegfried said. Stay calm, stay out of sight, and get the work done. The only problem with that was that it prevented us from making another trip to visit Sensei and Himari. It didn’t, however, prevent them from visiting us, although they came when we least expected it, and not exactly at the best time.

  As I’ve said, when you work in the same clothes day after day you get pretty stinky, especially if you’re sweating a lot. We couldn’t help it. Okinawa has a very warm climate, yet we couldn’t work in shorts and t-shirts; we had to keep our skin covered. Every day it was our intention to clean our clothes, or at least clean our spare clothes that were lying in a heap in the corner of the boathouse for over a week, but there was always some pressing issue, some work that had to be done right away, and the washing kept being put off. Each day started out with us declaring that we would do it, and each day ended with us having forgotten. Ziegfried said that Sheba would be horrified at the sight of us. I said I was glad that Himari couldn’t see us either. That’s when Ziegfried said, “She’s outside, Al.”

  I laughed. I thought he was joking.

  “Pat down your hair, Al. It’s sticking up; you look like a porcupine.”

  I turned and looked at Ziegfried. He looked like a character from an old silent movie, like a giant version of Charlie Chaplin who had just destroyed a bakery by accident, bringing all the flour, dust, and dough on top of himself. His face was pasty white, and his teeth looked black. When he removed his goggles there were two dark rings around his eyes, like a raccoon’s. I couldn’t tell what he smelled like because everything smelled the same to me … bad.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “You’d better get it, Al,” Ziegfried said as he bent down to stick his head into the only clean bucket of water, and washed his face really quickly.

  I went and opened the door. Standing there, as fresh and clean as a spring flower, was Himari. Beside her were two old Japanese men looking neat and tidy: Sensei and his brother. I bowed low immediately, as was customary in Japan when meeting highly respected elders. The irony of the difference between this meeting and my first one with Sensei was not lost on me, but I was glad to see him strong on his feet, and more than happy to show him respect.

  I wasn’t sure they actually recognized us at first. Ziegfried came over looking like a bear with dripping fur. He had stuck his head right inside the bucket, and then wiped his face dry with the corner of the shirt he had bought at the store, which had slowly been morphing into a grease rag. He also bowed low to the old men. We had, in fact, practised bowing properly, the way they do it in Japan, which is not just a drop of the head but a whole movement of the back. The more respect you wanted to show, the lower you bowed.

  “We had to come and visit you,” Himari said. “I wanted to see your submarine. My great-granduncle has said you have travelled all over the world in it. Is it true?”

  I nodded. “I’m afraid we have been working so much we haven’t been able to clean up much.” They were probably starting to think we were always like this.

  Himari smiled and stepped carefully into the boathouse. When she saw the sub hanging in the air, all shiny and new-looking with three coats of paint, her eyes opened wide. “Wow! It is amazing!”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cool, I guess,” I said.

  Sensei and his brother stepped just inside the open doors, and Sensei spoke excitedly to him in Japanese, pointing to the sub and gesturing wildly. I wondered what he was saying. I wondered if his family had any idea just how remarkable he had been out at sea. I wanted to tell them, but I never seemed to get the chance.

  “Can I look inside?” Himari asked.

  “Um … sure. You might have trouble getting in though.”

  She didn’t. She reached up to a handle high above her head, and pulled herself up. She was strong. I half expected to see Sensei do the same thing, but he was being careful with his healing lung. He smiled a lot, although I couldn’t help thinking he was concealing a deep desire to be back at sea. “When will you go back to sea?” he asked me.

  “As soon as the last coat of paint is dry,” I answered. “Two more coats.” Then I wondered out loud, “And you? Will you buy another ship?”

  Sensei kept smiling but his eyes betrayed his deep disappointment. “I have no money for a ship,” he said. “Will I go to sea? I don’t know. I would like to continue to clean up plastic. But the doctor says I must stay on land now, at my brother’s house. I don’t know; I will think about it. My great-grandniece would like me to teach ninjutsu. I think I would like that very much, too.”

  “I wish I could stay to learn it from you,” I said.

  “You are a good student,” he said. “But the sea needs you more than the land does. There are many people dedicated to saving the land. Not so many for the sea, I think. You are a ninja of the sea, like the seals and the gulls. It makes my heart glad knowing you will be out there, caring for it.”

  “I will do my best,” I said.

  “I know that you will. You do not know how to give up.” And he smiled widely, and his eyes watered.

  I knew then that his sailing days were over.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  When the police car cruised by I was inside the sub with Himari. I had climbed in to see what was taking her so long. I found her in the bow, on the floor. She had drawn Sensei’s sword from its sheath, and was studying the markings on the blade. I couldn’t help feeling badly; I thought Sensei should have given it to her, not me. She thought so too.

  The boathouse side doors were wide open when the police car pulled up. I heard c
ar doors shut and someone speaking Japanese with a sharp tone. I peeked through the periscope. Two Japanese officers were standing next to Ziegfried, staring intensely at the sub.

  “Yes,” said Ziegfried loudly, “it is my submarine.” He nodded towards Sensei. “He inspired me to build it.” The officers exchanged bows with Sensei and his brother. “Yes,” Ziegfried said, “it will have to be tested … No, we do not have its papers yet … No, it has not been in the water yet … No, there is no one inside … Yes, that is my dog … Yes, my passport is around here, somewhere …”

  Ziegfried dug through his bag and found his passport. The police officers studied it and gave it back. Then they wanted to see his plane ticket. They took it! They were growing more suspicious. They kept asking the same questions over and over.

  “No, there is no one inside the submarine,” Ziegfried said again loudly, and I knew he was warning me. “You want to look inside? Okay, but I am sure you won’t find anyone inside.”

  I took Himari by the hand. There was only one place to hide. In the cold room in the stern there was a spot where we could pull up the floor. While it gave access to the crankshaft, it wasn’t really meant for crawling inside. I could fit, but Ziegfried couldn’t. The opening was beneath boxes of canned food. I felt the sub tilt slightly as one of the officers grabbed hold of an outside handle. They were coming up!

  Himari followed me quickly into the cold room and I gently pulled the door shut. Then I slid the boxes away. There was no handle on the floor. You had to fit your fingers between the floorboards, push down on one side, and pull up on the other. Then you could lift it up. There really wasn’t enough room for two people. But that’s where we went.

  “Are you claustrophobic?” I whispered.

  She shook her head, and climbed inside. I followed, and pulled the floorboards down on top of us.

  Himari was wearing a white skirt and a light green blouse, but she squeezed into the greasy pit without hesitating. As our bodies pressed together like two sardines in a can—which was pretty much what I smelled like—I felt the second officer climb onto the hull.

  The only light was what came from under the floor from the engine compartment. We couldn’t hear anything because there was a steel wall between the stern and the rest of the sub, to prevent water from passing through. I could feel Himari’s breath on my neck. If she was feeling fear or anxiety, she never showed it. We lay there together for a long time and just waited.

  It was nerve-wracking, hot, and the air was going stale quickly. I couldn’t help thinking of what Sensei must have suffered in the belly of the ship. I could barely turn my head, but when I did, I saw Himari’s eyes staring at me, inches away.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry that I stink.”

  “My great-granduncle told me that it is the stink of a noble young man,” she said, and giggled quietly.

  That made me smile. “I think he should have given his sword to you.”

  “You have to earn it,” she said. “You did. I didn’t.”

  “I think you are earning it right now.” We both giggled. Suddenly the door swung open and light flooded into the tiny room above us. Two feet came in and stood right over our heads, no more than four inches away. With the light came a stream of fresh air. I breathed it silently into my lungs. I felt Himari’s hand press against my hand. Was she holding my hand?

  It felt like forever that the man stood above us and spoke to his partner in the bow. They spoke rapidly in Japanese. I wished I could have understood it. I felt Himari’s breath on my neck, and it tingled through my body like a bolt of electricity. I felt it in my toes.

  Finally we felt the men climb the portal and make their way down to the deck of the boathouse. They didn’t bother to seal the door to the cold room. Once they were back on the ground, they continued interrogating Ziegfried. They didn’t sound satisfied with his answers.

  “What’s that?” Ziegfried said loudly. “I’m sorry. I’m speaking loudly because the electric sanders have damaged my hearing. It’s the nature of the work I do … Yes, I build submarines for a living … Yes, I am sure that is my dog … When will I be finished? Oh … in a few months I suppose … Yes, we will have papers … Yes, legal papers … You will come back? Okay. When? … When will you come back? … This evening? With coast guard? Okay. That is very good. I will be happy to show my submarine to the coast guard … Yes. Thank you. Thank you. You’re welcome. Bye for now.”

  Ziegfried’s voice grew more distant, and I knew they had moved outside. One part of me wanted to climb out and let Himari out, but another part of me wanted to keep feeling her breath on my neck.

  Eventually I felt a much heavier weight tug on the hull outside, and I knew that Ziegfried was climbing up. “Coast is clear, Al. You’d better come out quick.”

  I pushed up the floorboards, climbed out, and reached down to help Himari out. Like me, she was covered in sweat and grease.

  “That was brave of you,” I said.

  She smiled. “Did I earn my great-granduncle’s sword?”

  “I certainly think so. But how can I give it to you without insulting him?”

  “I can hide it from him.”

  “I don’t know.” I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Al! Quick! Let’s go!”

  “Okay.”

  So we climbed out and down to the deck. Ziegfried was already unlocking the pulleys to lower the sub into the water. “Quick, Al, grab the other ones.”

  “What are we doing?”

  “We are getting you ready. You are leaving.”

  “I am?”

  “You are.”

  The sub fell into the water with a splash.

  “They’ll be back in a few hours, Al, with the coast guard. They’ll know the difference then. Grab the water!” He pointed to the large fresh water jugs.

  “What about fuel?”

  “You’ve got enough to make it to Saipan. Don’t forget you can pedal.”

  “I won’t. But what about your plane ticket? They took it. How will you get away?”

  “It’s all arranged, Al. Sensei arranged a spot for me on a private ferry to the mainland. Back-up plan. Grab those tools! Just throw them inside. You can sort them out later.”

  “But … what if they search for you on the ferry?”

  “I’ll be long gone before they ever think of it, Al. Grab those foodstuffs. Here, take these tools. You should have enough food to last you a few weeks. Good Heavens, don’t forget Hollie. Here!”

  He passed me Hollie and I carried him inside. I couldn’t believe we were leaving like this. It was a mess inside. Every compartment was open. My foodstuffs were mostly in burlap sacks in the corners. My cot was on its side. “Is everything ready to go?” I yelled out.

  “Well, we only got three coats on her but at least it’s dry. The engine’s ready. The electrical is hooked up. The crankshaft is clear. The plumbing’s done. She should be good enough to sail. Island hop as much as you can. Stop in Saipan. Stop in Hawaii. Anywhere else you can. Double-check all your systems once you’re at sea. Where’s Seaweed? Can you call your first mate, Al?”

  I grabbed a bag of dog biscuits, shook them, and called for Seaweed. It took a few minutes but he flew inside the boathouse, landed on the hatch, and jumped inside. I shut the hatch to make sure he stayed in, and climbed back to the deck. Himari was standing stiffly next to Sensei and his brother. I wondered if she had hurt herself in the sub.

  I bowed low, and thanked them for all their help. Sensei had small tears in his eyes, but he smiled boldly and shook my hand vigorously.

  “You are like my own son.”

  “I am honoured to hear that,” I said. “I will write to you.”

  “Come on, Al.”

  “Okay.” I shook hands with Sensei’s brother. Then I stood in front of Himari. “Will you visit me in Canada?” I asked.

  “I would love to. Write to me.”


  “I will.”

  We hugged each other. She was definitely stiff. I hoped she was okay.

  “I will take a bath before you visit,” I said.

  “Take more than one.” She smiled.

  “Al …”

  “Okay.”

  Ziegfried gave me one of his great bear hugs. “Al, I have an uncle on Vancouver Island. He’s got a terrific boathouse. Why don’t you sail there and we will meet you. Sheba would love it.”

  “Vancouver Island?”

  “Yes. Why not? Call me on the shortwave when you get close, and we will come out. Okay?”

  “Ahh … okay.”

  “Good. Go now. Do what you do best: sneak out of this place.”

  “I love you all,” I said, and jumped onto the hull, opened the hatch, and climbed inside. I sealed the hatch, let water into the tanks, engaged the batteries, and quietly motored out of the boathouse. It was the middle of the afternoon. I took one last look through the periscope and saw all four of them climb into the same car and drive away. They weren’t wasting any time.

  As the sub sliced through the water as silently as a moth, I stood at the sonar panel and watched us dive until we reached three hundred feet. Once we were there I let a little air into the tanks to create neutral buoyancy. How much more enjoyable it was to do that in a submarine. I turned to pick up Sensei’s sword, to see the writing on the blade that Himari had been reading. But it wasn’t there. That was strange. I scoured the entire sub, and couldn’t find it. Then it hit me: she had taken it. That’s why she had been standing so stiffly—she was hiding the sword in her skirt. I had to laugh: how like a ninja. Like great-granduncle, like great-grandniece.

  Rightly so that she should have taken it, I thought; it was her heritage, not mine. Besides, I wouldn’t need a steel blade to remember Sensei.

  Hours later, safely outside of Japanese waters, we rose to the surface and I opened the hatch. Fresh air rushed in, but I could still feel Himari’s breath on my neck and still smell the fragrance of her. She hadn’t taken only the sword; she had taken my heart.