Chapter 1

I have known Ginny for as long as I can remember. There isn't a time in my life that I haven't been around her. Our parents have lived next door to each other since before we were born. Our dads are cousins ... They went to school together. They worked for the same company for a long time. Since it went out of business, they have worked for different companies. Ginny's mom is a hair dresser and has been away at work a lot.

My mom is the gardener and has always stayed at home. She watched both of us and, later, my sister and Ginny's brother. There were always flowers around our houses. Mom also kept a vegetable garden in the back. There was an open field behind our subdivision and dad bought a three acre piece of it behind both our houses for mom to grow more vegetables and fruit on. That was back when we were little, and land was a lot cheaper.

There is a huge old live oak back there. It marked the edge of our property. Ginny and I spent a lot of time alone there. That wasn't till we were six though, and Mom trusted us to be out there on our own. Before that we used to play in Ginny's yard, as ours was all garden. At three and four years old, we terrorized the squirrels and birds, chasing them all around the yard, and screaming and hollering. We laughed at them and thought it quite funny.

We had a big old female cat, Gerty. She spent a lot of time in the garden, resting in the shade out of the heat and looking for mice and moles. She also liked to chase the birds and caught a few. Mom had gotten her fixed after her third litter, but she was still a great hunter. She hung out with us in that old live oak a lot, too.

I was christened Robert James Watson and Ginny was christened Virginia Ann Watson. She has always been called Ginny by our parents, while I started out as Jimmy. Neither set of parents had ever called me Robert or Bob. When I got to the third grade, I thought Jimmy was too babyish and insisted on being called Jim.

All of this led to a problem when I got to the fourth grade. We had a new teacher, who didn't know any of us. On checking attendance the first day, she called out 'Robert Watson'. No one answered.

"Is Robert James Watson here?" she said again in a very cross voice.

"Yes," I finally answered, "but everyone calls me Jim."

"Your first name is Robert, young man. I have two other James in this class, and you will answer to Robert," the teacher scolded me. The next name on the roll was Ginny as her last name is the same as mine.

"Virginia Watson," the teacher called.

"Here," Ginny answered.

"You need to insure your brother pays more attention," the teacher told her.

"Jim isn't my brother, ma'am," Ginny said. "He's only my cousin." All the other kids laughed.

Ginny has long orange/red hair. It has always been long. She also has freckles down to the tops o her aureoles. I know. A pair of four year olds don't wear a lot of clothes during the summer in the south. At least, they didn't used to. We had seen each other totally naked at that age. It was in the wading pool in Ginnie's back yard. While I have a few freckles, I was amazed that Ginny had so many and in so many places. We touched each other, exploring the differences in each other, After a time, we went back to playing in the water.

When my mother came out later, she was shocked to see both of us naked in the pool. She gave us a good talking to. I could see that she was upset, but had no idea of why at the time. After that we made sure that no one saw us naked again. We didn't stop exploring each other's body, or being naked together. We just made sure that no one caught us. Ginny also has the brightest green eyes, while mine are gray.

It was during the fourth grade that my dad got me started in Karate. I had watched Chuck Norris on TV and thought it would be neat. It was a lot of work, even if it was only once a week to start. Even before fourth grade, Ginny had developed an interest in gardening. She was always around my mom and, in fact, called her 'Mom'. She always called her own mother, 'Mother'. It wasn't surprising then that she developed an interest in gardening. Being a bright girl, she learned quickly and helped my mom in the garden a lot.

So it was that we drifted slightly apart at age nine, me to Karate and Ginny to gardening. We were still in the same classes and did our homework together a lot, as she was still at my house in the afternoon. We still played in the old oak in the summer. It was just that we had developed other interests.

When I was twelve, my Karate teacher took me aside and told me that he thought I had gone as far as I was likely to go with him, and he thought that I should change to a different program. He knew a Sensei, who lived in town, and thought he could be persuaded to take on one more student. He had two already.

"Jim, this will not be easy," my teacher warned me, "Sensei Yoshie will expect much from you. It will require a lot more time also, at least four or five days a week. It's only for those serious about the Martial Arts. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Sensei," I told him.

Thus began my immersion in the history, arts, and culture of old Japan. I had read quite a bit about it while taking Karate. That was nothing compared to what I got into now. Sensei's other students were older than I and much more advanced. In fact, they did much of the initial instruction. Sensei was always there though, keeping an eye on us, and making corrections and adjustments where necessary.

As the youngest and newest student, I got all of the details to take care of. I thought that I was being taken advantage of until speaking to my old Karate Sensei one day. He assured me that it was the way things were always done, and he told me of some of his troubles while a young student. It made my own seem trivial.

There was so much to learn: the name of everything in Japanese; how to walk, sit, kneel, and breathe; there were clothes and how to wear them. Then there was etiquette and how to behave in the dojo. There were the various drills also, but I only started on them after learning sword etiquette

Sensei's house is two story. The Ryo (studio) took most of the first floor. Sensei and his wife lived up stairs. Mioshi - Sensei's wife- is also a gardener and took care of the upstairs, while I cared for the down stairs. I spoke to her often. She was shy at first, but is a very nice person. She is short like many oriental females but amazingly strong, when strength is needed.

We arrived back at Sensei's house slightly out of breath. I had been walking rather fast, and that had made Ginny run to keep up. I was worried about the two jocks following us. I didn't see them, however. I did see the lights of a police car arrive, as we made our way into Sensei's Yoshie's yard. Mioshi was there tending her flowers. I greeted her in Japanese, and then stated that I needed to see Sensei in English.

"Yes," Mioshi said, "who you friend?"

"This is my cousin Virginia," I told her. "She is the reason I need to see Sensei."

Ginny had started to cry now that she had caught her breath. Mioshi saw this, and said, "Yes, come." Then she rattled off something in rapid fire Japanese that I couldn't follow, and we went toward the house. Sensei Yoshie met us at the door, and there was a look of concern on his face.

"Jim, what is the problem?" were his first words. Mioshi ushered us in before I could explain. Again she said something in rapid fire Japanese, that I couldn't follow. Sensei answered "Hai"

"Please, Miss, go with my wife upstairs, while I speak with Jim," he told Ginny. Mioshi took Ginny's hand and led her upstairs. This was something that had taken me a year to accomplish, going upstairs that is. When they were out of hearing, Sensei asked, "Now Jim, tell me what is the matter." I gave him the whole story. He frowned.

"Come in the Ryo," he said. We went in and sat on the tatami mats facing each other in seiza. Sensei was disturbed that I had had to resort to violence. Even though he taught the sword, it was to be a last resort. He spoke with me for some time, reminding me that it is the sword that gives life not the sword that gives death that is important.

After a time, he had me demonstrate what I had done. It had all happened so quickly, that I had difficulty actually remembering all of it. I went through it several times for him as best I could remember. Sensei was critical of my posture and several of the strokes, but finally admitted that what I had used had, in fact. been effective.

We had been there far longer than I realized, when the sounds of a commotion reached us from outside. We could hear Mioshi shouting something. Sensei jumped up and grabbed his bokken before heading for the door at the sound of his wife's voice. I followed as quickly as I could, given my surprise. We arrived in the front yard to an amazing scene. There were three large football players on the ground, bruised, and bleeding. Mioshi was standing over them with her hoe in her hand and reading them the riot act in loud Japanese.

"Check their condition," Sensei told me, as he returned to the house to use the phone. I went over and checked the three jocks. Two were moaning, and one just sat there stunned, not doing anything. They all had large bruises and rising knots where they had been struck with something! Was it the hoe?

Shortly Sensei returned. He told me that the police were on the way. The jocks had recovered somewhat and looked like they wanted to leave. Sensei told them, "If you get up from the ground, you will think that my wife's blows were just gentle kisses when I strike you." They stayed where they were. Sensei spoke to his wife while keeping an eye on the jocks. Ginny ran to me and started to cry again.

Shortly, a police car arrived. Two officers got out and came into the yard. The Sergeant bowed to Sensei, and then he asked, "What happened here, Sensei Yoshie?"

"My wife was showing the young lady her flowers when these three young men came up and threatened the young lady. It seems they were upset that two of their friends had had an accident because of her earlier. My wife doesn't speak English well, but understood the threatening tone of their voices. When they trampled her flowers and grabbed the young lady, my wife defended her with her hoe, knocking them down and then chastising them rather loudly in Japanese for trampling her flowers. She called them large, clumsy cows for stepping all over her flowers," Sensei explained.

"Is that correct, Miss," the policeman asked Ginny.

"Yes, they were upset that Jim had stopped their friends earlier from having their way with me. They wanted me to go and have sex with both of them. Jim knocked them down, and we came here. The Japanese lady, her name is Mioshi, took me upstairs and gave me some tea when we got here. I couldn't understand a lot of what she said, but she was very nice to me.

"I saw the flowers she has in the house and went to look at them. They were beautiful and so large. Larger than the ones that I have grown. Soon we were talking about flowers, and we came out to the yard to look at hers. She was showing me how she planted them when these three came up to the yard. Right away they started shouting at me and threatening me. I was scared and started to back up. They came into the yard and were still threatening to hurt me. They walked all over her flowers.