Roxy Ran: Red Samurai Part 9

I feel a soft paw on my shoulder and turn to see Jackson. I'm lost in his eyes when Cinnamon nearly knocks me over with her enthusiasm.

'Hey, can I come to the dojang tonight with you and Elecktra?' she asks. 'I can be your wing-woman with Mr Axe,' she whispers into my ear so Jackson doesn't hear.

'Cim!' I shush her.

'We need as many fighters as we can find,' Jackson says.

Cinnamon claps her hands and runs back to her House. I watch her showing another Gate Two her hammer-throw technique.

'Well, she's turned over a new leaf,' Jackson says.

'She's a new tree,' I say.

'Don't worry too much about Elecktra,' he says. 'I reckon she'll show us who she really is soon enough. Don't stress.'

He's right. Elecktra will be a ninja when she's ready to be a ninja. She's too busy being Lecky now. All I can do until then is support my sister, starting with her viewing party this afternoon.

'Want to come to a viewing party for the Teen Choice Awards?' I ask.

Jackson looks at me crookedly and I laugh.

'Nah, man. I think I'll leave it to the girls. I've seen Elecktra's blog and I'm not a fan of her Rug Report,' he says.

'Well, I don't think she needs your fas.h.i.+on advice anyway,' I say, pointing to his bunny tail. He winks.

We walk across the oval with my hobbyhorse. A black shadow crosses our path. I look up into the sky, but it's overcast.

'The town is filling with shadows,' I say, patting Maheadabell.

Jackson squeezes my hand with his purple fluffy paw. 'And these shadows have no suns.h.i.+ne,' he says.

I race home to watch the Teen Choice Awards at Elecktra's viewing party, which consists of me, Chantell and Elecktra. Elecktra has made fairy bread and Chantell has brought over soft drink. They are best friends again, as if nothing ever happened.

'Shut up,' Elecktra says to me. It's not even five minutes into the party and Lecky is being mean. Her moods are driving me nuts. I never know if she's going to hug me or hit me.

'Lecky, I didn't say anything,' I say, taking a seat on the couch.

'Your face said it all. This is a viewing party, not a point-of-view party. So take your status updates somewhere else, thank you,' she says. If Chantell wasn't here, she'd be all nice to me, I bet. What is it with Gate One? They care so much about what other people think that they don't think for themselves.

'I don't think Mum would want us -'

'Celebrating the world's greatest talents, fas.h.i.+on and "girl stole my looks"?' Elecktra interrupts. 'Of course she does! This is the kids' Oscars.' She points to the red carpet of the Teen Choice Awards.

I was going to say Mum wouldn't want us eating fairy bread and drinking soft drink. Lucky she's out and Art doesn't mind.

Chantell and Lecky erupt with anger over a teen girl blowing a kiss to the camera. She's wearing a tank top, miniskirt and ankle boots.

'Is she kidding? Who would wear a statement necklace with those accents? That bag and those shoes. And the ugly hair extensions. Chantell!' Lecky screeches.

Chantell lifts panicky eyes from the laptop on her knees. 'Internet's dropped out.'

Elecktra rushes over to the laptop and hits the keys. 'My blog!' she screams. 'I can't live like this! I need the comfort of everlasting internet access to function.'

I'm sure no one's dying to read Lecky's Rug Report, but she's treating it like a triple-zero emergency. 'Geez, what a party,' I mutter.

'It's him!' Chantell squeals, pointing at the boy on the TV. 'Yay! And internet's back on.'

'Star light, star bright,' Elecktra sings. 'He's nailed it!' Her cheeks heat jam red and her feet lift off the ground in excitement.

'Lecky!' I hiss. She realises her mistake and drops onto the arm of the couch. Chantell is oblivious, madly typing Elecktra's Rug Report.

'Ten out of ten,' Elecktra dictates to Chantell.

Elecktra must start training. She can't control her levitation. What happens if she spots a pair of shoes she likes in a magazine and flies off into the trees at lunchtime?

I stride over and pull the cords out of the back of the TV. The screen flicks blank.

'Roxy!' Elecktra moans.

'Party's over.' I shrug. I'm sick of Elecktra only being nice to me when no one else is around. I'm taking charge. 'I really need you to come to the dojang with me now,' I say.

Elecktra disappears behind the TV, but can't figure out which of the cords fit into the yellow, white and red holes. Chantell is busy blogging. I'm not sure she's noticed me at this 'party' yet.

'Will Jackson be there?' Elecktra asks, poking her head out from behind the TV.

I purse my lips. 'Yeah, think so.'

'Then I'll come,' she agrees.

'5pm at the dojang,' I tell her.

'Art!' she screams upstairs. 'TV broken!'

I hear Art's footsteps and flash invisible to walk up to my room. Lecky is too busy fiddling with the TV to notice and I don't exist to Chantell anyway. Reading the Ninja News is more fun than a viewing party, I reckon.

TEN.

'Welcome to the dojang,' Sabomin greets Cinnamon, Elecktra and me at the door of the practice hall in his Taekwondo uniform, his frayed black belt tied low under his belly. I tell Lecky that 'Sabomin' means 'Instructor' in Korean.

'I thought he would look more like a GI Joe,' she whispers, looking at him the way she watches doc.u.mentaries. Real life is a disappointment to her. 'I'm Elecktra,' she says loudly to Sabo.

'Elecktra,' he says, shaking her hand, 'strong name.'

Strong, yeah, but I reckon it sounds more like a brand of nail polish. Lecky smiles.

We stand behind the dojang doors, peering through the gla.s.s at Jackson teaching a cla.s.s of twenty ninjas how to run up a wall. I'm so happy to finally have Cinnamon's eyes eagerly devour every inch of the room. She is still glowing after her win at the sports carnival today and hasn't taken off her crowning glory - her lucky cowboy hat.

'So what belt are you?' Lecky asks me, squas.h.i.+ng her face against the gla.s.s to scout the room for talent - cute boys. But she can't see any of their faces under the ninja hoods.

'White belt still. There's a grading in a few weeks,' I say, looking at Sabo hopefully. Elecktra is unimpressed.

'Jackson is one of our best instructors,' Sabo says to Lecky. 'Look at that mat chat. His student connection is uncanny.'

Jackson notices us through the doors and smiles. Elecktra bows to him like she's seen martial artists do in movies. He winks at us, but I think the wink was meant for me. Cinnamon elbows me in the ribs again.

He finishes the wall run-ups and the cla.s.s splits into groups to practise different techniques. There is one group kicking on the hanging bags, a second group practising knife threats, another group sparring and a fourth group practising ground fighting.

'Before you came, we were discussing swords versus nunchucks in self-defence,' Sabomin says when Jackson joins us at the dojang entrance.

Jackson nods. 'Everyone should know some self-defence. It's dangerous out there.' He looks pointedly at me. I think of the shadows spreading across the oval at the sports carnival and shudder.

'Cla.s.sic me,' Elecktra says. 'I forgot to bring my black belt.'

'You're not a black belt!' Cinnamon says.

Lecky winks at Jackson. 'I'm a black belt in adorable.'

This is going to be harder than I thought. Cinnamon rolls her eyes.

I elbow Elecktra in the ribs. 'Elecktra, tell Sabo why we're here.'

She dumps her breath out of her nose like a horse and pulls on her school tie. It has been crafted into a tiny knot around her neck, like a miniature martial arts belt. She looks fascinated by the ninjas learning self-defence.

'Well, I would like to show you some of my new moves. I need to know where my magic has come from and Roxy wants me to learn how to control it,' she says in a formal English accent.

'Lecky, please be serious,' I say. 'No accents.'

'Don't be so self-defensive.' She giggles.

Jackson hands Elecktra a black ninja uniform and a white ninja belt. 'Why don't you try this on?' he says.

Elecktra drops her chin and glares. 'My style is New York, but today I'm feeling very London. This is not London,' she pouts. Elecktra's dream is to visit the 'Big Four' fas.h.i.+on capitals of the world: Milan, New York, London and Paris. She's only ever visited the fas.h.i.+on capital of Lanternwood - Royal Central Mall - and it's only two levels. She says any shopping mall with a nail spa called 'Beauty and the Beach' isn't high fas.h.i.+on. I love going to Royal Central. I'm a fan of the food court. Mum lets us go to Pita Wrapbit, which makes the best thick healthy wraps. I bet Milan doesn't have one of those.

'You like the London look, hey?' Sabo says. 'Draw a Union Jack on it, spill on some mint sauce, crush it in crisps. Do what you have to. But you'll need to wear this to begin your training.'

I laugh. Elecktra burns. Sabomin and I operate on a mutual understanding - in training I don't grab his hair because he can't afford to lose any more and in exchange he teaches me everything he knows about martial arts. I've grown really fond of him. He is one of the most honest people I know.

'This dojangle sucks,' Elecktra says.

'Ah, technically it's dojo in the j.a.panese art of Ninjutsu and a dojang in the Korean art of Taekwondo,' Sabo corrects her.

'Well, it's dojangle to me!' she argues.

Jackson shrugs and walks back into cla.s.s.

'Lecky, you don't get to make the rules,' I say.

'You're such a nerd!' she bites back.

'I'm not a nerd. Nerds dig soil erosion, take metal detectors to the beach and wear socks with sandals!'

'I've heard metal detectors don't make much money anyway,' Cinnamon adds.

'Girls! Kalyo! That's Taekwondo talk for "break". Wow,' Sabo says to Cinnamon, 'they need a referee.' She nods.

'Fine. I'll wear your stupid Karate uniform. But I better not find any photos on Facebook,' Elecktra says. She is a Facebook sensation. Her status updates spark debates throughout the schools of Lanternwood. She once declared an eight-day week in honour of her favourite designer pa.s.sing away. Monday became Mournday and everyone at Gate One came to school wearing an element of Devastated Chic.

'One film about one kid kicking on a stinking beach and all martial arts are the same as Karate,' Sabo mutters under his breath.

'I hate anything that starts with a K and that includes Kamping, Kiddie Discoveries and Krumping,' Elecktra mumbles as she walks off to the change rooms. 'Kiddie Discoveries are never surprising - the dumb toy inside the chocolate bear is always a disappointment!'

'I like Kicking b.u.t.t,' I say to Cinnamon.

'Yeah, interesting she didn't mention Kisses.' Cinnamon laughs.

Elecktra and I return in our black ninja uniforms and stand in the doorway with Cinnamon. I love the dojang. I feel like I belong among the wooden rafters, rice-paper walls, blue mats, hanging equipment and pots of bamboo.

Jackson is helping a young blue belt with her side kick. The girl balances on one leg, an invisible rope pulling her toes to the sky. On Jackson's command, she fires kicks towards the rafters like a machine gun.

Jackson turns his attention to me. It's fight time. The cla.s.s stops practising and lines up across the back of the mats. Jackson picks up four wooden sticks as tall as me and hands two of them over. We fight in a blur of sticks and sleeves. I feel so proud to finally show Elecktra what I can do; fighting Jackson is more impressive than fighting the samurai on the motorbike. Jackson turbo twirls his sticks in the air. Sabo flicks me a lighter and I set the top of the sticks on fire. I reel my sticks faster and faster. The sticks flare as I spin them to the back of me, in front, out to the sides, in a figure eight, above my head, cloaking myself in a tornado of smoke. I disappear, then reappear out of the smoke with a triple spinning kick that I know no one else can do.

Jackson kicks the sticks out of my hands. Sabo jumps on them with the fire extinguisher. Jackson snaps my hand in a twisted wrist-lock. I drop to my knees and shoulder-throw him over my head, pulling his arm up and locking my knee against his elbow. He hits his knees to his chest, kicks out towards my face, clamps his ankles around my neck and catapults me towards the students headfirst. I break-fall and land on my feet.

Jackson approaches me with his thumbs in his black belt. I can see the sweat dripping into his blazing eyes. He stops a fist-distance away, pulls off his hood, then rakes his hand through his swampy blond hair. His knuckles are calloused.

'Oi, you let me have that,' he whispers.

'Well, I couldn't let you look bad in front of your students,' I whisper.

He smiles and hands me a ninja star. Between my fingers, the star feels so familiar: the weight, the coolness of the blades, the sharpness of the edges. We throw the stars around the room and they laser through the rafters, around the hanging bags, between the students. We chase our stars with kicks and flips. I roundhouse kick, triple front kick, then leap into a jumping crescent kick to catch my star between my toes. I flick the star up into my hands, then kiss it before sliding it into my belt. The students applaud. Jackson bows to them, then dismisses cla.s.s.

'I wanna go!' Elecktra bounds towards us. This will be a good test of her ninja powers. All ninjas are naturally good with shuriken, the ninja stars. The first time I held one, the blades felt like an extension of my nails, a part of my body. Elecktra retrieves the star from my belt and holds it awkwardly in her palm.

'Okay, so you throw it like this,' Jackson says. He throws his blade and it slices over Elecktra's head and strikes the noticeboard hanging near the entrance of the dojang.

Elecktra holds the star between her fingers, then tosses it like a Frisbee. The star drops onto the floor by her feet. There is no air skid, no slide, not even a wheeze of flight.

'That's odd,' Sabo says.

'Really weird,' Jackson says.