Chapter 6

By the time I was nine I had been doing Ninjutsu for five years.

Achieving my first degree dan had been a lot quicker than normal. It had only been recently that I had realized how privileged I was to have been allowed to grade so quickly. Others in the class had been forced to wait the ‘required’ period of time between gradings.

I was ready, ability wise, to grade for my second dan. Unfortunately for me, in the USA the earliest you can grade for second dan was sixteen, which was seven years distant.

Being the impatient soul that I am, I was trying to find ways around this obstruction to my development.

I was also ready to take my first dan in Kung Fu. Since I had got so far ahead in Ninjutsu so quickly, I had started a second Martial Art. Due to some really bad timing from when I started I would be eligible to grade in six months, unfortunately it was going to be another nine months before the first black belt grading was scheduled by the club.

At school all of my classmates knew about how smart I was, I was always top of the class in every test in every subject.

Basically most thought I was a nerd, mainly because I never had any inclination to join in any kind of sports team that most of the boys participated in.

That wasn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy sports. I loved watching them with my Dad, which was mainly on our big screen TV. Once in a while, he would take me to watch a live game. This could be football, baseball, basketball or hockey. I had worked out the general rules from watching the game growing up. I had persuaded my Dad to get me the rules on a multitude of sports so I could participate, if I ever had the chance or inclination.

The reason I didn’t join in was the size difference in most cases. In a lot of these sports the bigger you were the better you were at competing. Being two years junior to the other students in my classes meant I was always at a size disadvantage, so competing wasn’t practical. With my martial arts classes, it wasn’t as though I didn’t get enough exercise. If anything I probably did more hours exercise than any of my peers.

A big change in my life came about in this period, although that wasn’t why I acted like I did. It had a large part in helping me get past my frustrations in my martial arts life.

I had headed down to the local Asian market to buy some specific ingredients for my mother’s next culinary experiment.

As I entered the shop, the lack of customers was the first thing that I noticed. Normally the shop at any time of the day would have multiple shoppers in attendance.

The second thing I noticed was the two men stood near the cashiers register, one being Caucasian, the other African American. Although this shop supplied anyone who wished to buy Asian ingredients, it was rare for males other than people of Asian descent to actually use the store. If you did see Americans in the store, it was mainly women, wives or single ladies.

I kept a watch on them out of the corner of my eye, while I moved around the store. There were a couple of other customers, but they were all Asian women. They looked to be scared and kept out of the way. As I grabbed the ingredients Mom wanted, I also spotted a couple of things I could use if I needed them. The main one being a stand of replacement broom handles. They could easily be used as a staff in a fight; the other would be any can of food. Their weight and size would be ideal for a projectile weapon.

Not wanting to escalate any issues arising around the cashier, I continued walking the aisles just looking at other objects and Asian foodstuff.

With my lack of height, the tall aisles kept on obstructing my view of the front of the store. The next time it came into view, I saw the white man roughly grab a bag the cashier had. He then told her something, before the two men glared at anyone in view and started to move off out of the store. I dashed up to the stand of handles, grabbing one in one hand, plus a small can of pineapple in the other.

As I reached the cashier I asked if she was OK in Chinese, I had to learn the basics in the Kung Fu classes. Wanting to understand it better, I had ordered the Rosetta Stone for Chinese program, for the computer, with my learning ability I was soon able to talk the language and understand it when it was spoken to me.

She sobbed that they had robbed the store. I thought that might have been the case, which is why I wanted the weapons. I quickly left the shop, as the two men were nonchalantly strolling away. Not wanting to take on two men by myself, I steadied, took careful aim and threw the can at the bigger African American man. My aim was spot on, catching the man just behind the ear, he grunted before falling flat on his face. I dashed forward, my broom handle staff in my hand, the white man swung around with a snarl on his features. After seeing his companion face plant on the sidewalk, he pulled a knife from inside his clothing to face me.

“Punk kid, I am gonna cut you up for hitting Jerome.” he threatened.

Not paying any attention to that, I moved in closer, keeping an eye on the hand with the knife, as he swung it around loosely in his hand showing off. I swung the broom handle around aiming for the knife or hand, being very lucky I caught his hand. There was a sickening sound of bones breaking, as the knife went flying off skidding across the ground.

With one hand hurt, I had a much better chance. What I wasn’t expecting was the guy to charge at me, reaching for my throat with his one good hand outstretched. I twirled the broom handle, blocking his arm with a thump. He grunted but wasn’t finished, still moving in closer to get his good ‘hand’ on me. OK it might not be gentlemanly, but this was a dangerous man, so I twisted my staff again bringing it up between his legs.

It connected solidly; the guy screamed a pitch I didn’t think a man could reach before falling to his knees, holding himself. Just to make sure I clipped him round the side of the head with my staff. The other guy hadn’t moved, but a couple of steps, and a wrap over the head with my broom handle made sure he wouldn’t wake up. Off to the side was the bag of cash that they had stolen. One of them must have dropped it during the fracas, bending down I picked it up.

I hoped that someone in the Asian store had called the police.

Even so I had what I came for. So rather than risk finding out what might happen when one of the two guys came round enough to regain his feet. I decided departing would be the best option.

Before I could though there came a shout.

“Stop right there kid, bring that bag over to me and the young lady here won’t get hurt.”

There was either a third thug, or just someone hoping to take advantage of the situation. He held a small young Asian girl by the hair, pulling it taught so she was held in place.

Not wanting the girl to get hurt. I decided money, which wasn’t even mine, wasn’t worth the hurt he could do her. I held the bag out in front of me and walked towards him.

“Hang on, I have seen what you can do with that staff, throw it away before you come any closer.” he ordered.

Crap, my only chance of freeing the girl and getting the guy, was being taken from me. But as ordered I threw the broom handle aside.

“OK good, now come over here and give me the bag, and I will let the girl go.” he demanded.

I followed his instructions. As he took the bag, he pushed the girl away, she stumbled and fell. But that wasn’t enough for this guy with the hand that had released the girl he made a grab for me.

This was when my training kicked it. I can’t say it was thought out, it was all muscle memory. When his hand grabbed my arm, I brought my other hand over to trap his. A quick twist and a drop to a knee, there could only be two possible results from this move. Either his arm would be dislocated, or he would flip onto his back.

In this instance he flipped onto his back. To my good fortune as he landed, his head caught a curb stone with a dull crack and he didn’t move.

I grabbed the bag. Went over to the girl and helped her to her feet, we then made a dash back to the store. I told the lady cashier to lock the door, before passing the bag with the store cash in it over to her.