Shawna was a bit of a mystery. She was Jamie’s class’s projected valedictorian. However, there was a six-month period of time when Shawna had simply disappeared from the school the previous year. Jamie figured that, as her closest friends, Laura and Amy knew where she had been, but they weren’t talking.
Laura approached John, taking his hand in hers, and kissed him gently on the lips.
Deck cleared his throat. “Public displays of affection can earn ya a detention.”
Laura blushed. “Sorry, Mr. Pendragon.”
“I’ll let it slide this time.”
Jamie sighed again and shook his head in bewilderment. How could she stay with him?
Jamie looked at Shawna and Amy. Shawna stared daggers at her friend’s boyfriend.
John seemed to notice Shawna’s distaste, as well. He grinned at the female honor student and asked, “Jealous?”
Shawna cocked an eyebrow and declared, “When your IQ gets out of the double-digits, call me.”
Deck gave Jamie a knowing look, being the only person present who understood the control that Jamie was maintaining. Then he turned and walked away.
John put his right arm around Laura’s waist. “Tell ya what,” he said to Jamie with a glare. “I’m gonna let you off this time, since Mr. Dragonhead had to butt in. Just don’t overstep your bounds again, geek. Remember, I’m everything here, and you’re nothing.” He put his arm around Laura’s shoulders, leading her toward the building’s front doors, followed by Freddy, who was still cradling his sore hand.
Jamie could hear Laura say, “That wasn’t very nice, John.”
The basketball star replied with, “Don’t start with me, Laura . . .” and then their voices trailed off.
Shawna stepped up to Jamie and said, “You know what they say . . . if you give a bully one good slug, he’ll leave you alone.”
Jamie smiled shyly and ran his fingers through his light brown hair. He looked up. Shawna’s shoulder-length hair was naturally dark, but she dyed it blonde. The eyes that peered out from behind her glasses were brown, but surprisingly bright. She was pretty, in a natural and sweet way. “Thanks for the tip,” he responded.
“Are you going to be at the dance tonight?” asked Amy, ignoring the various boys in the hall who were staring longingly at her.
Jamie shook his head as he threw his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m having company up for the weekend.” He shrugged. “Can’t make it.”
Shawna smiled at him. It left him slightly breathless. “Too bad. I was going to save you a dance.”
Jamie cleared his throat. “Can I take a rain check?”
She reached out and gently touched the side of his arm. “Of course. There’ll be plenty more dances before we graduate next year.” Then she turned with Amy and headed toward the front exit.
George slapped his friend on the back. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”
“Are you kidding?” returned the young ninja. “I don’t think she has time to date, with all the studying she does.”
“People like that don’t need to study. They learn by osmosis.”
As the two approached the front doors, George commented, “She was right, you know. You should just kick John and Freddy’s . . ..”
“I don’t like to fight,” interrupted Jamie.
George gave his friend a crooked smile. “That’s because you don’t know how to do it. If you learned, you’d have a lot more confidence.”
Jamie chuckled inwardly at the irony. If George only knew.
* * *
The top floor of the school building was smaller than the ground floor. The second floor only had five rooms, so much of the building was only one story. The side of the building where the Home Economics room sat above the first floor’s gym blocked the sun in the afternoon as school was being released for the day, leaving the center of the roof bathed in shadows. But today, one of those shadows was alive. It crept quietly to the edge of the roof, looking down at the students below.
Its eyes settled on two figures as they walked out of the school building and down the small hill that led to the bus-loading zone and parking lot. When they reached the latter, they said something to one another, then separated. One walked toward the student vehicles, and the other toward the end bus. The figure focused on the second boy. It was him who Master Obata wanted. Raleigh was one of the Funakoshi chunin, trained by their leader, Tanemura Funakoshi. The members of the Warui clan hated this teenage ninja even more than the other Funakoshi ninja. Unlike the natural members, who were born into the war, he had chosen his side. It was a choice that would cost him his life.
The figure retreated back into the shadows . . ..
* * *
Jamie sat next to his friend, Jeremy King, watching in fascination as Jeremy looked through a deck of cards. The dark-haired youth, who was two years younger than Jamie, examined each individual card, as if committing it to memory, before putting it back into the deck.
Jamie tried to control his breathing. As Jeremy lived with his parents in a cabin in the woods, with no running water or electricity, he tended to smell rather ripe by the weekend. Jamie sighed. People found ways to cover their scents before running water was invented. Why couldn’t Jeremy?
Across the aisle, Steve Adams sat with his brother, Max. Steve, his blonde hair shaved into a crew cut, and Jeremy were in the same class in school and were best friends who shared a fascination with fantasy fiction. Steve’s girlfriend, Leslie, sat in the seat in front of them. Steve and Leslie were competing for valedictorian of their class. Jeremy didn’t seem to care, as long as his grades were good enough to graduate.
Max, who was normally the most hyper of the bunch, stared out of the window in boredom.
Jamie glanced toward Jeremy, sitting next to the window, and asked, “Is Deck going to be at the dance tonight?”
Jeremy looked at Jamie and, fishing through one of his many coat pockets, replied, “I think so. He was subbing for Mr. Jackson today in my art class. Said he’d be a little late. He’s gonna put some new traps around his house first.” The house that Jeremy was referring to was actually a miniature castle that Deck had build by hand, complete with working drawbridge.
“Yeah, I saw him in the hall after school,” said Jamie. “He bailed me out of a conflict with John Bowers.”
Steve’s voice carried over the aisle. “I heard about what you did to Freddy’s hand. How did you learn to do that?”
Jamie hoped that he was not going to have to answer that question many more times. “I don’t know. Just dumb luck, I guess.”
“Maybe you should come with me to my tae kwon do class,” suggested Max, who was a red belt. “If you did it by accident, you may just be a natural.”
A shirt went flying between Jamie and Jeremy, landing on the back of the seat in front of them. Troy Shockley and Tray Peterson were goofing off again. They had an annoying habit of taking off articles of clothing and throwing them all over the bus. Jamie even remembered a time when Troy’s underwear ended up on the bus-driver’s head.
Jeremy looked at Jamie. “When are you gonna get your license so we don’t hafta go through this every day?” He grabbed the shirt and nonchalantly tossed it out the window.
A few seconds later, Tray looked over the seat and asked, “Either’a you two geeks seen my shirt?”
Jeremy looked back at him and replied, “Yep.”
After a few seconds of silence, Tray’s eyes widened in annoyance as he realized that Jeremy was not going to elaborate. “Well, where is it?”
Jeremy looked back at them and smiled. “About a mile back.”
“WHAT?!” exploded the eighth-grader. “It flew out the WINDOW?!”
Jeremy snapped his fingers in mock-defeatist style. “Wind took it.”
“Oh, great! My mom’s gonna kill me!” The eighth-grader plopped back in his seat and angrily folded his arms across his bare chest.<
br />
Jamie couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.
Jeremy thrust out both hands, the cards fanned out. “Pick a card . . . any card.”
Jamie cocked an eyebrow, guardedly pulling a card from the deck and looking at it. It was the eight of clubs. Jeremy placed his hand on his seatmate’s head and began humming, as if in meditative concentration. Jamie could see Steve, Leslie and Max, just inside his field of vision, watching in fascination.
Now Jeremy opened his eyes and instructed, “Let me see your card.” Jamie, his eyebrow still cocked, flipped the card over so that his eccentric young friend could see it. “Yep, that’s what I thought it was.” Jamie rolled his eyes. He knew that Jeremy was just being playful, but he sometimes could not help but wonder if the young man, who readily told people that he was the reincarnation of Robin Hood, wasn’t really walking on the edge of insanity.
As the bus crossed the bridge that ran over the creek and city limit of Sera, Jamie noticed that the construction workers were still on the job. “I thought the bridge workers were only supposed to be working until three o’clock on Fridays.”
Steve was reading an almanac. “Maybe they’re trying to get a little ahead so that they don’t have to come in as early on Monday.”
Max, who had been unusually silent for over a minute, suddenly piped, “Hey, that one looks Asian!”
Jamie perked at this revelation and craned his neck, then climbed to his feet and leaned over Steve and Max’s seat, trying to see this Eastern construction worker. Sure enough, there stood a man on the walkway of the bridge, his slightly slanted eyes showing his Japanese heritage.
The man looked curiously at the bus as it passed, then seemed to see Jamie behind Steve. As his eyes settled upon the teen, they narrowed and the young man felt a cold chill run up his spine. Why did he look at me like that?
“There’s somthin’ you don’t see everyday,” muttered Max as he regarded the man.
“Maybe he’s related to that Yoshi-girl on the Aurthur quiz bowl team,” suggested Jeremy. Jamie knew that this wasn’t correct. He said nothing.
After the bus had passed the bridge, Jamie settled back into his seat. Steve got his attention. “Speaking of quiz bowl, tryouts are next week.” He was looking right at Jamie.
“I know,” replied Jamie. In the quiz show-like competition, all of the local schools competed. The teams were filled with the most intelligent students of the school; at least those who wanted to compete.
“Are you ready to try out yet?”
Jamie pushed his right hand up under his glasses, rubbing both eyes wearily. “I dunno.”
“It’s not like you’re not intelligent enough,” commented Steve.
“Well, I’m not exactly a straight-A student, either.”
Steve closed the almanac, marking his place with his right index finger. “Grades have little to do with it.” He gestured toward Jeremy. “He can barely keep his grades acceptable, but he’s still on the team.”
Jamie could hear Jeremy shift in the seat beside him as he chided, “Hey! I resemble that remark!”
Troy looked over the seat and said, “Yeah, a royal person doesn’t need ta do good in school.” Leaning halfway over the seat, he continued, “Oh, Jeremy King! Your majesty!” he said, feigning a bow.
Jeremy’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Does this mean that you’ll obey me?”
Troy performed that same mock bow. “Command me, lord!”
Jeremy puffed out his chest and demanded, “Remove all of your clothing, climb on top of the bus and wait for an eighteen-wheeler to come up behind us. Then jump off so that you land in its path, ending your miserable existence. THIS I COMMAND!!!”
Max chuckled. “You wouldn’t have to command the first part. They like being naked.” He gestured toward Troy’s seatmate. “I mean, look at Tray. He threw his shirt out the window.”
“Hey!” whined Troy’s annoying friend. “I didn’t throw it out the window! The wind took it!”
* * *
Jamie stepped off of the bus, looking across the road at the old house in which he and his parents lived with their cat, Linus, and Chihuahua, Chico. The adolescent was embarrassed to let his Jameston friends see this place again. The house was a total mess. The siding was falling off in places, leaving black patches of rotted fiberglass insulation all over the front of the house. The roof leaked throughout and the floor felt as if it could cave in at any moment.
Jamie sighed as he crossed the road in front of the stopped bus. As his feet crunched on the gravel on the side of the old pavement, the bus started to move slowly up the road. He could hear Tray and Troy whooping and hollering out of the window. He resisted the slight urge to copy Freddy’s earlier obscene gesture and focused on the front door of his house as he approached.
The door had a footprint indented into the wood where one of his older brothers, Keith, had kicked open the door in a drunken stupor on one of his late-night visits because he could not wake anybody up to let him in.
As Jamie stepped onto the flat, concrete slab that served as the front porch, Linus met him. The grey and white-striped feline purred contentedly as he scratched him behind the ear. After unlocking the door, Jamie stepped inside, followed by his cat.
He closed the door and walked through the living room and into the hallway that separated the kitchen from his bedroom. He found Chico on his bedroom floor, having an asthma attack. After throwing the backpack on his bed, the young ninja picked Chico up from the floor and sat in the old easy chair that served as both his video game chair and his study chair. He gently held the shivering, old dog as it wheezed, looking up at him affectionately. Linus jumped into the chair and curiously sniffed the dog; neither was ever hostile toward the other.
Chico was something of a black sheep among the little Mexican dogs. Unlike the majority of the males that Jamie had ever seen in that breed, this little, snow-white one was not, as his mother would say, “a yipper.” He was actually a very quiet old dog, unless his asthma was acting up. He actually belonged to Jamie’s dad, Chuck, who himself had emphysema. The older man would often hold the little dog while both of them were having a breathing attack.
When Chico finally calmed, the teen leaned over to gently nudge the old dog’s nose with his own, but the dog affectionately licked the boy’s nose, instead. Jamie smiled and leaned his head back against the soft headrest of the chair.
He had almost blown his cover today. Had Deck not come along, he might have found himself having to fight John. And he had not wanted to reveal his past to even his closest friends in Sera . . ..
Chapter Two
April 14, 1984
Saturday, 4:52 PM
The nine year-old boy nearly toppled as he turned his bike off of his home street of Speedway and onto the back street that connected all of the roadways that ran perpendicular to the cotton field. Rows of the local crop moved steadily by as Jamie steadied himself upon the two-wheeler. He was going to see his best friend, Buster.
The lad brought his bike to a stop, balancing on his right foot, as he noted a car up ahead that was parked on the side of the road, just past Polluck Street. The red sports car seemed out of place. Jamie had only seen a vehicle like it before while watching his favorite cartoon, ”the Transformers.” Lamborghini, realized the youth. Wow!
Standing next to the car, bent over and talking to someone through the front passenger’s window, was a boy from school. He was a couple of years older than Jamie, and Jamie didn’t know his name, but he knew that the boy was in Mrs. Stewart’s sixth grade class.
As the boy stood up, an arm from inside of the car handed him something. With the curiosity of any child, Jamie pushed his glasses farther up on his nose and squinted his eyes to see the older boy’s possession. It was a zip-top, plastic bag that contained white powder. The older boy gingerly opened the bag and stuck his finger lightly inside. Pulling it out, he lightly touched his finge
r to his tongue. He smiled and nodded.
The realization hit Jamie all at once. Drugs. Jamie’s eyes widened. The boy had just bought drugs. This shock turned to terror as the adolescent turned and looked directly at him.
“That kid saw us!” These words screeched into Jamie’s ears as he shot down Polluck Street.
Why’d you have to stop and look, stupid?! he chided himself. Jamie had never known true fear until this very moment. His heart pounded in his chest and he gasped for breath as he heard the sound of the sports car coming up behind him.
Risking a look back, he saw, to his horror, that it was gaining fast. Rectangular headlights glared at him like the eyes of a hunting beast. The youth turned back around and put all of his strength into the pedals. His legs screamed in agony.
Realizing that the driver could run him over at any moment, Jamie swerved off of the road and into the yard of Tanemura Funakoshi, an old, Japanese man who had retired years ago to the small town. Mr. Funakoshi had always been kind to the neighborhood children. He would help Jamie.
The boy leaped from his bike as the Lamborghini, its driver caught off guard by Jamie’s sudden turn, squealed to a stop in the street, Jamie ran up the front steps and pounded on the door. Putting his ear to the door, he heard nothing inside. He turned and glanced to the side to see the old man’s Ford Taurus parked in the driveway. He has to be home!
Jamie was grabbed from behind and thrown off of the steps. He landed on grass with a painful thud, his nose striking the ground hard. Rough hands grasped him by the back of his blue Spider-Man T-shirt and turned him over to stare into the wild eyes of the boy who had bought the drugs. “My mom’n’dad’ll kill me if they find out about this, ya hear?!” The older boy’s hands searched out Jamie’s throat and started constricting.