by Tiffiny Hall
‘I’ve been working my way up to a rabbit,’ she says. I look at her, confused. ‘In my magic.’ She holds the rabbit up above her head, then nuzzles its stomach into her cheek.
‘I really wish Mum would let us have a pet,’ I say.
‘Mum says we have to be more responsible. But I am responsible, environmentally at least — I recycle my outfits.’
I smile. No matter how much change Lecky is experiencing, I know some things will stay the same.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask when she clutches her forehead.
‘I’m dizzy.’
‘I was dizzy when my powers came in. Don’t worry — it’s all part of the transformation to ninja,’ I whisper, picking up a black rabbit and settling in beside her.
‘I tried to talk to Mum about it. She said everything will be fine: I’ve always been different and we’ll deal with it,’ she says sadly, tracing the rabbit’s nose. ‘I’m sick of being different to you and Mum.’
‘It’s better than being different at school,’ I say.
Lecky shrugs. ‘We’ll leave school one day.’
I pat the rabbit. I guess I’d take fitting in with my family over fitting in with friends any day.
‘Chantell is being weird about the magic thing. She told everyone at school I’m a freak,’ Elecktra says.
The rabbit tries to bury itself into my bent knee. I scoop it up and rub my cheek against its fur. ‘I’ve been called a freak heaps of times,’ I say.
‘I know! At this rate, I’ll be Gate Two by the end of the week,’ she says.
‘Gate Two’s not that bad. You wouldn’t have to work so hard to get volume in your hair — the spit bombs do all the work for you.’
Elecktra laughs.
Ted comes over with the parrot on his shoulder. He gently takes the rabbits out of our hands and places them back in the box. ‘Would you like to see something totally awesome?’ he asks.
‘Would I ever,’ Elecktra says.
Ted looks at her warily. He never trusts Gate Ones.
‘Jackie!’ Ted calls and a caramel spaniel pads out from the back of the shop. Jackie sits at Ted’s feet and wags his tail. Ted puts his index finger up to his shoulder and the parrot steps onto it.
‘This is Smurf,’ Ted says, holding the parrot out to us. The parrot bobs his head. ‘Smurf want a ride?’ Ted asks the parrot.
‘Smurf want a ride,’ the parrot repeats.
We laugh. Smurf sounds exactly like Ted.
‘Parrots are very social creatures, willing to adopt humans as their flock, but only if you’re nice to them,’ Ted says. Even birds like to fit in. Everyone needs a tribe; Gate Twos, ninjas, sisters, we all want to belong.
Jackie stands up and places a paw on Ted’s shoe. Ted slowly lowers his finger and Smurf steps onto the dog’s back. Jackie wags his tail and walks off.
‘Smurf want a ride,’ the parrot says as he is carried between the cat cages and along the banks of aquariums. Elecktra and I clap.
Ted holds up his hand. We silence. Then we hear it.
‘Smurf want a ride. Left,’ the parrot says and Jackie turns left. ‘Right,’ Smurf says and Jackie obeys.
‘The dog knows his left and right?’ Elecktra gasps.
‘More importantly, the parrot can say left and right,’ Ted says.
Jackie continues to march to the bird’s command, weaving left and right around the store. ‘Left, right, left, right,’ Smurf orders.
‘This is a YouTube video waiting to happen,’ I say.
‘A million hits here we come,’ Elecktra says, taking out her phone to video Smurf and Jackie. I watch her laughing and suddenly realise I haven’t seen her this happy in weeks. Perhaps she isn’t really mean — just confused and scared.
‘You were right, Cat. This is cheering me up.’ Lecky turns to me and smiles.
Ted scoops up Smurf onto his shoulder and pats Jackie.
‘Smurf want a ride,’ the parrot says.
‘Thanks, Ted,’ I say.
He holds up two fingers. I copy him. It’s a Gate Two thing. Elecktra holds up one finger. Ted rolls his eyes and walks back behind the counter. I grab her finger and twist it.
‘Do you always have to do the opposite?’ I ask.
‘Bet your best fly kick on it,’ she says.
Jackson barges into the shop. ‘We’ve got trouble,’ he says.
I look through the window and see Hero and his clan loitering out the front. ‘What’s he want?’
Elecktra glances over her shoulder. ‘Damn,’ she says.
‘What?’ Jackson asks.
‘I promised I would go somewhere with him,’ Elecktra says.
‘Um, excuse me. Go where? With him! Why would you even talk to him after the way he treats Roxy?’ Jackson asks. He’s standing up for me again and it feels awesome. I could stand up for myself, but the protective thing Jackson has going on is really cute.
Elecktra scrunches the ends of her hair with ringed fingers. ‘He says he understands what I’m going through.’
‘He doesn’t understand. He’s the enemy! All he knows is how to cause pain.’ I feel tears bubble. Lecky has been so nice to me lately. I love hanging out with my sister and now she’s going to leave me to spend time with that thug. Jackson puts a hand on my arm.
‘He’s just a friend,’ Elecktra says, looking out the window again when Hero calls her name. ‘Something you obviously don’t know much about.’
Her words sting. Elecktra is back to being her usual mean self. I turn away from her and go back to the rabbits. I pick up the white one and stroke it as it nestles into my arms. Elecktra’s unkind remark throbs in my chest. Maybe Cinnamon and I like rabbits because they never turn on you. I hear the pet shop door slam behind Lecky.
‘Want to see a movie?’ Jackson asks.
I look up at him, surprised. ‘With you?’
‘Nah, with Bugs Bunny. Course with me!’ he says.
I nod. I like humans again.
‘How many tickets?’ the girl in the ticket booth asks. She is wearing cancer fundraiser bandanas around her wrists.
Jackson looks in my direction. ‘One,’ he answers.
The girl hands him the movie ticket.
‘This feels wrong,’ Jackson says without moving his mouth as we approach the usher. The boy rips the ticket in half and we walk through to the candy bar.
‘It’s not stealing if I’m invisible. Technically I don’t exist,’ I whisper.
‘Yeah, it’s stealing,’ he says in his best impersonation of a ventriloquist.
‘We’re seeing a remake of Pocket Ninjas,’ I say. ‘An underworld killer pollutes the atmosphere so much a dragon sends his pocket ninjas after him. Yeah, I think it’s safe to say, they’re stealing from us.’
Jackson laughs and forgets how silly he looks laughing to himself.
I’m tempted to sneak some sweets from the candy bar, but I know that Jackson wouldn’t eat them. He’s too good. He probably doesn’t even like soft drink or birthday cake.
As soon as we enter the molten darkness of the theatre, my stomach is attacked by butterflies. This time it feels like they have teeth. Jackson leads me to the back of the cinema and their fangs sink in. I know what kids do in the back. Jackson selects two seats where no one can see us and we sit down. I break a sweat.
‘Hey, you can come alive now,’ he whispers to me. ‘No one will see back here.’ The realisation that he was trying to hide me, not kiss me, smokes out the butterflies.
In the cinema, I bet it’s mostly ninjas. All the samurai would be in the next cinema watching Hidden Blade.
The movie begins, but all I can think about is Jackson’s arm leaning on our shared armrest. I take a deep breath and exhale my arm onto the armrest too. Our skin touches. I’d be the envy of all the Year Ten girls right now, sitting in the dark next to Jackson Axe.
The film is really bad — a dragon is giving a kid a self-defence lesson. Jackson leans over and whispers, ‘You were right, I feel robbed
.’ His breath is warm on my neck and the feeling hovers there long after he returns to watching the film. I try to concentrate on the pocket ninjas, but I’m too confused. Am I on a first date? If I had known I was going to end up on a date, I wouldn’t have coated myself in animal scents at the pet shop. I must stink. I blush in the darkness. I wish I could have prepared for this. I would have revised the ponytail, dirty white trainers and camo-green T-shirt. I would have made an effort, worn clean shoes at least. Maybe even applied some of Elecktra’s make-up, blingles to my nails, washed my mouth out with perfume. That’s what guys like, right?
Jackson coughs and covers his mouth with his hand. My entire body tenses. He extends his elbow behind my ear and my body leans in without my permission. Jackson’s arm reaches around and pulls me towards him. I snuggle in. He gently pats my shoulder and smiles down at me. Even in this dense darkness, the colour of his eyes is still vibrant, alien green in space. There are no savage butterflies this time. It’s weird how completely comfortable I feel. We watch the last twenty minutes of the movie curled up in the back row. It’s the best twenty minutes of my life.
‘I think it’s time,’ he whispers. As the movie credits roll, I flash invisible again and we exit the cinema.
Darkness slithers in as we walk home. Streetlamps flutter on and shadows ink themselves across the pavement. Sludgy samurai shadows that you can’t see through. Jackson and I are careful not to tread in any; the slightest wrong step and they will feel us. We don’t talk, but walk fast. We can sense there is trouble simmering on the streets and the movie ran later than we thought it would.
‘I know a short cut to your house,’ Jackson says as he leads me around a corner and down a dark alleyway. My heart pounds in the blindness. The alleyway opens up onto a street and under its lamp I regain my bearings — we are only three streets away from my home.
Jackson grabs my arm. ‘Wait!’ he says.
I look down. I don’t need to turn around to learn what is behind us — the shadows have already swallowed my feet. Jackson and I turn slowly to meet the black eyes of samurai. Two girls and four boys, all with red string tied around their wrists. Jackson and I step back. They step forwards. We are outnumbered, but I feel the strength of trained techniques in Jackson’s fingers as they clench my arm. The samurai encircle us.
‘Woot! Ninjas in the dark,’ one of the girls croons. She is wearing a pleated short skirt with biker boots.
‘Hey, we live around the corner. Don’t want any trouble,’ Jackson says.
‘But you never know what’s around the corner,’ the girl sings and the samurai laugh. I hate samurai humour, it’s lame.
They take a step closer. The samurai must be about seventeen, yet their knuckles are not calloused from training. These guys are amateurs. No match for the White Warrior. I know I shouldn’t use any of my powers as they might guess who I am, but I’ve been dying to show Jackson what I can do …
The four boys lunge and pin down our arms. Jackson looks at me and without hesitation we jump and somersault back, twisting our arms out of their grip and landing on our feet. A samurai flies at me with a spear-hand strike and I block it with my foot, then kick him across the chest. I jump onto his shoulders and use them as leverage to propel me up to kick the next boy. The power of my kick spins him into the streetlamp, causing its light to smash and casting us all in darkness. I look around and Jackson has already taken care of the third boy. The girl with the biker boots steps forwards. She cocks her head to one side and studies me. I’m going to go for it.
The taste of chilli coats my tongue as the heat from the Fire Scroll kindles in my gut. The girl launches at me. I flash invisible, fly behind her, then clap my hands together. The girl spins on her heels and I see both her and Jackson’s surprise as I slowly part my palms, revealing a fireball. I launch it over her shoulder. It misses her as I intended and sizzles on the road.
The girl kicks out at me, her feet boxing towards my face. I leap away from her stinging strikes. Behind us, Jackson is defending himself against the fourth boy. I watch my opponent dance around, showing off her best kicks and stances; the speed and effortless rhythm of her technique are familiar. She spins towards me in a turning flying side kick. I leap out of the way and counter with an axe kick, my heel on fire. She twists out of the reach of my flaming toes, then assumes a deep tiger stance. Her shadow engulfs me. Jackson back kicks the fourth boy into the girl watching and they both crash to the ground. The biker girl realises she has no backup, but holds my glare. Why isn’t she afraid of me?
I summon another fireball in my hand, then direct the wind to whip it into a flaming tornado. I hurl it towards her. She leaps out of the way, then charges at me. She backflips over my head, tucks her knees under her chin and scratches my face with her long nails as she travels above me. She spins twice and lands in a blurring forward roll. She crouches and looks behind at us with her arms winged out to the sides. She smirks. That same irritating samurai smirk that Hero wears when he knows something. She pokes her tongue out at me, then runs off.
‘Are you okay?’ Jackson studies my face in the moonlight and gently dabs at my cheek with the sleeve of his shirt.
‘Just a scratch,’ I say.
‘Fireballs are dangerous. You can’t go showing off your powers like that. We could have taken them, you know. Without the fireworks,’ he says sternly. Jackson has slipped back into his role as my instructor.
‘But don’t you think my powers are awesome?’ I ask.
‘You were concentrating too much on your powers and not enough on the fight,’ he says.
I’m thankful for the darkness, which hides my blazing cheeks. ‘Okay. I was showing off and got stung,’ I mumble, hurt that he didn’t say my powers rock.
Jackson starts walking to my home and I follow. A sudden realisation handbreaks my step.
‘I’ve got it!’ I say. ‘I know where I’ve seen them.’
Jackson pulls up. ‘Seen what?’
‘Biker girl’s moves,’ I say. ‘She’s been to the Cemetery of Warriors and fought the Monk. Can’t you tell?’
Jackson thinks for a moment. ‘She was trained. Gave you a fair go.’ He smiles. ‘Makes sense. More and more samurai are transporting and training up. They’re stronger than ever and outnumbering us. Soon this town will be Sam Central,’ he says, taking my hand to lead me home. He wants to escape the shadows. Fast.
‘They can’t know you’re the White Warrior,’ he says as we turn the sharp corner into my street. I can see my yellow apartment and a light in the window. We slow down and I turn to Jackson.
‘But Hero knows already. Why hasn’t he told his clan?’ I ask.
‘He’s not that stupid. He knows it would mean clan war — samurai fighting for your powers, ninjas protecting you — and Hero wants you all to himself. He’s up to something. You can’t risk it again, Rox.’
‘I reckon Hero’s up to something with Lecky,’ I say.
‘Maybe. But remember, whoever kills the White Warrior takes on their powers,’ Jackson says.
The word ‘kill’ reverberates through me, a gong to my heart.
‘You’re safe with me, Fancy Face,’ Jackson says, pulling me into a hug. He hasn’t called me that for a long time. My heart glows like the living-room lamp. He squeezes me tight.
‘G2G?’ he asks, releasing me.
I smile. ‘Good to go,’ I say, then walk casually up the side of the house to my open bedroom window on the second floor.
‘I’ll see you on Monday for the sports carnival,’ he calls up to me. ‘P.S. Your wall walking has improved.’
I wave to him from my window, then he darts across the road and in a few seconds he has disappeared, leaving me hungry to be wrapped in his arms again.
NINE
‘Hey, how good do you look?’ I tell Cinnamon. She is wearing a red tracksuit and has managed to prop a red cowboy hat atop her big hair. Red warrior stripes are painted on her cheeks. I’m wearing a brown Mexican poncho of Art�
��s and brown corduroy pants, and I’m carrying a hobbyhorse with a brown head.
The school oval is a patchwork of colours this morning for the sports carnival. Everyone is sitting in their House on the grass, screaming their House chants and waving banners. House pride is really important. Red Rose is the strongest team, then purple Bougainvillea, blue Iris, orange Tulip, white Lily and finally us, brown Cosmos. My House is named after chocolate cosmos flowers, which are technically a deep burgundy colour, but few kids know what burgundy looks like so Hindley Hall went with brown. Cosmos is filled with the laziest kids. Many of them faked a sickie today so the younger kids have to run the older kids’ events.
Cinnamon is in Rose with Elecktra. Elecktra is wearing a Red Riding Hood costume, a red wig and high wedge shoes. She has painted the soles of the wedges red like a pair of designer shoes and struts her stuff as if walking a runway. Many of the kids are wearing mismatching trainers, following Elecktra’s trend from sport the other day.
Jackson races up to me in a lavender bunny suit — he’s in Bougainvillea.
‘I like bunnies,’ I say, flicking his floppy bunny ears, then blushing once I realise what I’ve said.
‘Bunnies like you,’ he replies. He’s probably talking about the rabbits in the pet shop, but he doesn’t blink his eyes away and I remember the gorgeous weight of his arm around my shoulder.
‘So what events are you in?’ I ask.
‘Everything,’ he says.
‘I’m doing heaps too.’
Chantell appears at my elbow. ‘Roxy, you’re up for the two-hundred-metre sprint,’ she orders. Our House captain didn’t even bother showing up today so as deputy House captain, Chantell has to organise Cosmos.
‘But it’s the Open race. All the kids are at least sixteen,’ I say.
‘Then you better run fast.’ She is wearing her school uniform and the only hint of House pride is that she has coloured in every third nail with a brown felt-tip pen.
‘You could have worn more brown,’ I say. ‘The kids love dressing up.’
‘Brown does nothing for my complexion,’ Chantell snaps.
‘But —’