Invasion of the Ninja

by Jeffrey Allen Davis

  “My brother kicked it,” responded Jamie.

  “Why?”

  “Because he couldn’t get anyone to let him in.”

  “Why?”

  Jamie rolled his eyes. “Because it was three in the morning and everyone was asleep.”

  “Why was he coming home at three in the morning?”

  Obviously noticing that Jamie was already getting annoyed, Buster interjected. “We’re going skating tonight, B.J.”

  His brother glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me that when we were home so I could bring my skates?”

  Buster shook his head. “They won’t let you wear the Fisher Price skates at the rink.”

  “But I can’t wear the ones they rent out,” argued B.J.. “I’ll get Athlete’s Foot!”

  “Oh, fer cryin’ out loud, dude!” bellowed Dave. “Yer what . . . eight? Yer not gonna get Athlete’s Foot! And they spray the shoes out with disinfecting spray after everybody wears’em!”

  Jamie suppressed a chuckle. Like most of the older members of their fighting arts enthusiast club, Dave did not like for Buster to have to drag his brother everywhere they went. Unlike the rest of them, he was not afraid to make it known.

  “So, where’s the skating rink?” asked Zack as he dropped the suitcase on the couch.

  Jamie glanced at Zack. “The Bluff.”

  Pete sighed. “We just drove through there to get here. Can’t we go in the opposite direction?”

  Jamie shook his head. “There isn’t anything in the opposite direction. Besides, it’s out of our way if we’re picking up Yoshi.”

  “So’d she finally finish her training?” asked Dave.

  The young ninja nodded. “She took her test at the park at Water’s Kiss in town, near the river.”

  “How’d she do?” asked Buster.

  “She beat the stuffing out of us,” laughed Jamie. “Give her two ninja-tos and she’s absolutely amazing. She can match me on pretty much everything, but she can majorly kick my tail in a swordfight.”

  Buster absent-mindedly fidgeted with the cross that hung from his neck. “She’s come a long way since the day her parents died.”

  Jamie nodded again. “She vowed to never let the Waruiyatsu catch her off guard again.” He cleared his throat, not wanting the discussion to go down that road. “Speaking of training, did you bring your nunchuks?”

  Buster patted the back of his hips. “I keep them in my belt under my shirt.” Jamie had started teaching Buster to use the nunchaku shortly after his sensei had taught Jamie the use of the weapon. Buster had picked up on it quickly.

  “We’re gonna do some sparring while we’re here?” asked Dave.

  “I’d hoped to,” responded Jamie.

  “All right!” bellowed the big teen. “Maybe we will have some fun this weekend!”

  Chapter Four

  Friday, 5:37 PM

  The home of Tanemura Funakoshi and his great niece, Yoshika Funakoshi, was a beautiful, brick house that was surrounded by perfectly-trimmed shrubs and beautiful, deciduous trees during the summer. In the fall, the lawn was a blaze of autumn color.

  Jamie stepped upon the front porch, followed by Dave and Buster, and pressed the dimly lit button next to the door. He could hear the doorbell sound within the house and footsteps running toward the door. As it opened, the three grinned.

  The young kunoichi was a vision. Her long, black hair fell to her waist and her bangs were cut straight across. Her slanted, brown eyes alluded to her heritage. Full, red lips framed a row of smiling teeth that couldn’t possibly get any whiter. Her arms, visible in the tank top she wore, were slightly muscled. They weren’t “body-builder” large, but attractively slim, and the three boys had seen her use them to put enough force behind a punch to knock out teeth.

  She smiled at them. “Are we ready to go?”

  “The other guys are in the van,” responded Buster.

  She stepped out and closed the door, checking the knob to make sure it was locked. “Zack and Pete?”

  “And B.J.,” grumbled Dave.

  Yoshi’s smile left. “B.J. is here?”

  Buster’s smile faded, as well. “My mom made me bring him.”

  Yoshi rolled her eyes and shook her head. “That is unfortunate.”

  Buster’s eyes narrowed defensively. “You know, Zack bothers more of us than B.J..”

  Jamie knew that Yoshi always spoke her mind. And she continued, “But B.J. always ruins your fun.” She patted him affectionately upon the cheek. “I just want you to have a good time, that is all.”

  Buster seemed to soften at this. “I appreciate that. But I’ll be fine.”

  “Very well,” she muttered, obviously unconvinced. She embraced each of the three, lingering on Jamie.

  Zack’s voice sounded out from the minivan. “Hey, toots! Stop with all the huggin’! We wanna go skating!”

  Yoshi pulled reluctantly away from her clan brother. Eyeing Zack with contempt, she muttered, “I am going to get near him on that rink floor and trip him.”

  * * *

  The song was a slow one. Shawna thought it was an eighties song by Tiffany. The teen sat on the bleacher, watching the dancing couples in boredom. Of all of the girls who had come to this dance, she was the only one not wearing something revealing. Well, there was Steve Adams’ girlfriend, Leslie Leigh, but the tomboyish girl who was competing with her own boyfriend for valedictorian of their class had worn pants. Even Shawna’s cousin, Amy, had worn a dress that totally went against school policy, with its low-cut neckline. She supposed the teachers all realized that, if they sent all the non-complying girls home, there would not be much of a dance left.

  Shawna’s eyes settled upon Laura and John, moving slowly to the music. “What does she see in him?” she wondered aloud.

  “He’s cute,” replied Amy simply.

  Shawna turned to her cousin, her eyes narrowed. “You’re disgusting.”

  Amy crossed her arms indignantly. “At least she has a date, which is more than I can say for either of us!”

  Shawna looked back at her friend and John, who had finished their dance and were walking over to the two girls. “I’d rather be alone than date him.” She sighed. “And why don’t you have a date? Any number of guys would have loved to have taken you.”

  Amy shrugged. “Maybe I’m too picky.”

  As John and Laura came to stand next to Shawna and Amy, John wrapped his arm around Laura’s waist and nibbled on her ear, apparently enjoying the glare of disgust that Shawna gave him. “What’s’a’matter, Shawna? Couldn’t get a date?”

  Shawna crossed her arms and looked him in the eye. “I wasn’t asked by anyone, if that’s what you were wondering.”

  At this, Freddy came walking forward, handing a glass of punch to John. “Maybe you should have come with Jamie Raleigh,” commented the follower. “’Nerds of a feather.’”

  “Jamie was having company tonight,” replied Shawna.

  Laura spoke up. “Leave her alone, Freddy.”

  “Let’im have his fun, Laura,” ordered John.

  Shawna rolled her eyes when Laura lowered her head in defeat. The honor student looked over at her cousin, who was now staring intently upward. “What’s wrong?”

  Amy squinted, as if trying to bring something into focus. “There are people up there.”

  “What?” Shawna looked toward the ceiling. Sure enough, there were several figures crawling around in the rafters.

  John had looked up by now, as well. “Maybe they’re fixin’ somethin’.”

  “In the middle of a dance . . . in a room that’s lit only by the colored lights from that machine and from the disco ball?” quizzed Shawna, as if talking to a child.

  At that moment, each of the figures dropped to the floor on very thin ropes. There was the sound of metal on wood as each figure pulled a short, straight-bladed sword from a sheath at his waist . . ..


  * * *

  Yoshi skidded to a halt next to the table where Jamie, Dave and Buster sat to enjoy their hot pretzels. Dave looked up at her in the flashing lights of the rink and smiled his normal, friendly smile. “Sorry, dudette. I got ya a soda, but I forgot that ya don’t like root beer.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the MC Hammer music.

  Yoshi seated herself next to Buster, across the table from Jamie. She grabbed Jamie’s pretzel and pulled a piece of it off. “I do not ingest tree bark. But it is no trouble. I will get a Sprite.” She stuffed the warm, soft pretzel piece into her mouth.

  Dave asked, “So, where wuz yer uncle tonight, dudette?”

  Yoshi finished chewing her bite and swallowed it, then responded, “He is at a Bible study. He goes every Friday night. He has it with several of the men from our church in Aurthur.”

  Dave shook his head in awe. “That is so weird.”

  Buster shot him a glance. “What’s so weird about it?”

  Dave looked at Buster apologetically. “Not that bein’ a church-dude is bad, but ya just don’t expect t’see the leader of a ninja clan as a religious dude.”

  Jamie now joined the conversation. “Actually, the ninja were religious, per se. They just weren’t Christian. The kuji kiri, or kuji no in, were originally brought over from the Mikkyo sect of Buddhism.”

  Dave eyed Jamie as if his cousin had just grown an extra head.

  The young male ninja explained, “The ninja hand symbols that all the old eighties ninja movies used to say ‘focused the ultimate power of purpose.’”

  Dave rubbed his chin absently. “Do you use these symbols?”

  Jamie shook his head. “Nah. Master Tanemura taught them to me because they are part of our clan’s culture. But, since he converted to Christianity, he doesn’t believe that they hold any real power.”

  Jamie looked around the rink to see what his younger friends were doing. He noticed Zack and Pete doing some stunt skating while holding on to each other’s wrists. They would crouch and spin two and, sometimes, three full circles together so fast, the young ninja could tell that, if either released his hold, both would go flying backward. At least Zack was not hitting on every girl in the place.

  B.J. had latched onto a video game and was in danger of using all his spending money.

  Yoshi brought Jamie’s attention back to the table. “So you gave up going to your school dance to be here with us tonight.” She was smiling playfully.

  Jamie shook his head, smiling sarcastically. “Trust me, it wasn’t much of a sacrifice.”

  Dave looked at Jamie, his eyebrows raised. “Why not?”

  Jamie sighed and took a sip of his root beer. “I have a few good friends, but the rest of the school pretty much follows a guy named John Bowers as if he were a shepherd and they were sheep . . . or something.”

  “So?”

  “He’s the school’s star basketball player and everyone wants to be him. He decides what’s cool for all the students . . .,” Jamie’s face distorted in disgust, “ . . . and what’s not.”

  Dave caught on to what was being said. “And, t’him, you and yer friends ain’t cool.”

  Jamie nodded.

  “Ya know, if ya smack’im around a little bit, he might just lose that popularity.” Dave slammed his right fist into his open left palm for emphasis.

  Yoshi responded, “He has kept his training a secret from those at his school.”

  Buster looked at his friend and mentor. “Why?”

  Jamie answered his student with a question, “Do you remember when it first came out in Jameston that I was learning ninjutsu? Remember all the people who used to try to pick fights with me, and the few who wouldn’t leave me alone until I did fight them?” At a nod from Buster, he continued, “I don’t want to have to fight like that anymore. If I never have to get into a real fight again, it’ll be too soon for me.”

  * * *

  At the eastern bridge, the black, Chevy van came to a stop. The sliding passenger-side door opened and four black-clothed figures climbed from the vehicle, carrying four civilians. The strangely dressed men carried their bound and gagged prisoners, which included one man and three women, away from the Chevy and toward the northern end of the bridge. As they arrived, the four figures were unceremoniously dumped to the ground.

  Two of the antagonists backed away as one leaned over and pulled a short dagger from his belt. One of the four bound figures, a high school teacher by the name of Tim Brown, glared at the armed man. His attacker’s eyes lit up with humor at his attempt at bravery.

  “Do not fear,” said the man, as he cut the ropes that bound Tim’s hands. “We are not going to kill you.” His accent sounded Asian. “Of those we took at your dance, we are releasing you adults for a purpose.”

  When Mr. Brown’s hands were free, he reached up and pulled the gag from his mouth. “What about the students?” he demanded.

  The man sliced the ropes that bound his feet as he replied, “They will not be harmed as long as you follow our instructions and the ones for whom we are looking come to the school.”

  Tim rubbed his wrists. “And what are your instructions?”

  The man with the knife looked at one of the other three and said something in his native language. That one reached into the vest he wore over his suit and produced a scroll, then handed it to the first man. The man turned back to Tim and gave him the rolled parchment.

  “Our instructions are written here in English, but there is a note that is only in Japanese. This is for the eyes of our enemies alone. Have this shown on the television, and they will know what to do. But be quick. The deadline is midnight.”

  The man rose and followed the other two back to the van. After they had climbed in, it made a U-turn and sped back toward the town.

  Tim looked at his watch. It was 8:30 PM. He swore in frustration. After untying the three women-the English teacher, Mariah Black; his wife; and Mrs. Tanner, an elementary teacher who had volunteered to help with the dance-he asked, “Is anyone hurt?”

  The three women each indicated that they were unharmed.

  “Good,” said Mr. Brown. “Because we’re going to have to walk at least a mile before we get to the nearest house to use the phone. And any news crews that come’ll have to drive all the way from the Bluff. They haven’t given us much leeway to get this done . . ..

  Chapter Five

  Friday, 10:30 PM

  Jamie slid from his place at the table and pushed himself into a slow roll toward the refreshment counter of the skating rink so that he could get a refill on his root beer. He looked at his watch. It was 10:30. They would need to be heading back to Sera soon.

  He glanced up at the television that hung over the refreshment stand in time to see Tim Brown being interviewed. He couldn’t hear what was happening, but Mr. Brown had a few cuts and bruises on his face and his eyes were filled with worry. Jamie felt a sense of dread settle in his stomach at the sight of his teacher. What happened at the dance?

  Next, a note, in Japanese writing, was shown. “Yoshi!” he yelled.

  His fellow ninja was standing next to him in an instant. “What is the matter?”

  Jamie gestured toward the television and her gaze followed. As she read the note, her eyes widened. “We must gather the others and get home at once!”

  Jamie looked at her in frantic puzzlement. “What did it say?”

  “I will explain on the way. Let us just hope that we can reach Uncle Tanemura!”

  * * *

  Pain. Steve’s head swam in the steady throbbing. He felt as if he were in the deepest part of the ocean, with the pressure of the water bearing down upon him. He was smothered. He couldn’t see. But, somewhere in the distance, he could hear voices. At first, he couldn’t figure out what they were saying. After a short moment, the single word became clear. He was hearing two familiar voices calling his name. He listened intently, d
etermined to follow them to their source . . . determined to leave his sea of pain.

  The oppressive darkness ended as he slowly opened his eyes to see . . . his girlfriend, Leslie, and his younger brother, Max. The two helped him to sit up. He rubbed a lump on the back of his head, looking around the room to find that he was in the women’s locker room with the rest of the students that had come to the dance. “What hit me?” he groaned, memories of the strange men in black costumes flowing back to him.

  “A ninja,” replied his younger brother matter-of-factly.

  “A what?” demanded Steve.

  Max stood. “A ninja.” He looked down at his brother, folding his arms across his chest. “You know, those Japanese assassins Jamie’s always reading about.”

  Leslie sat cross-legged and put Steve’s head in her lap. “I don’t think he’d ever want to see one up close,” she muttered.

  Steve narrowed his eyes as he realized that his younger brother, a junior high student, was with them. “Wait a minute . . . what are you doing here?”

  Max smiled his mischievous smile and said, “I snuck into the dance”

  “Why?”

  Max seated himself on a bench next to another student. “Why else? To bother you.”

  “And if you hadn’t, you’d be safe at home now,” argued Steve. “See, that’s why Mom’s always telling you that you shouldn’t do things just to annoy me!”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure she expected something like an army of ninjas to attack your high school dance.”

  * * *

  Jamie sat in the middle of the center seat of the minivan, leaning forward between Buster and Yoshi, in the front, bucket seats. “So, you want to let us in on the big secret?” he demanded of his clan-sister.

  Yoshi sighed, reaching up and rubbing her eyes wearily. “I caught something about evacuating Sera and for the enemies of the people who wrote the note to be at the school by midnight, or they will start killing the hostages.”

  Buster appeared confused. “Who are their enemies?”

  Yoshi looked at him. “The note bore the seal of the Warui jonin.”

  Jamie rested his forehead on his right hand, his elbow propped on his right knee. “We’re the enemies.”