Part One : Black Belts In Rudeness

Rehntilaa

  On top of a windy hillside stand two men. From a distance, only their silhouettes can be seen against the setting sun behind them. The shorter of the two men stands slightly forward and to the side of the taller. They are performing katha, moving their arms in a rigid motion, snapping their muscles taut into different positions to discipline their bodies and minds. The wind picks up leaves and swirls them around the two men, but neither of them notice. It is unlikely that they notice each other. Every ounce of concentration they have is focused on their balance and position. A third man, a small, thin man, stands up, or rather, from our view, appears to rise out of the ground before the two men. He holds out his arms, and the two men stop their training. The small, older man is talking to them.

   “You are almost ready. Your minds and bodies are functioning perfectly in harmony.” He turns, and starts to walk around the two larger men. “Spiritually and mentally, you can achieve no more, certainly learn no more from me.” Suddenly, the small man whirled to face the taller men’s backs. In a raised voice, he commanded; “Twisting axe kick! Ee-yah!”

   In perfect unison, the two men swivelled ninety degrees to the left and picked up their right legs so they point straight upwards, alongside their faces. Sharply, they twist back to face the front, bringing their legs back down with incredible force. Both men leave four inch indents in the sun-hardened soil with their heels.

   “My students.” Says the short man. “You are ready. You may finally join me in Rehntilaa.”

   Both of the men turn to face the speaker. They look visibly confused. The taller one speaks.

   “Rehntilaa. What is that?”

   “Rehntilaa is place where all master ninja’s may reside. It is a world unknown to any other, the land of mental and spiritual peace. Where the true ninja may rest out the rest of his life in perfect harmony with what goes on around him. It is not like the rest of this world. There is no noise. No shouting. No cars making the air thick to breath. No drugs that can take away our spirituality. No mindless, careering music. Just pure, unspoilt, peace.”

   “No music?” asked the shorter of the tall men.

   “Only the tranquil sounds of a lute or harp.”

   “No cars?” That from the taller man.

   “A true ninja will not have a machine do something for him that he can do himself.”

   “No drugs?”

   “No. Save for the ultimate intoxication of purity.”

   “No music, no cars, no drugs.” Said the taller man, nodding his head slowly. “Put him down, mah ninja.”

   The taller man took a step toward his senesce, and, as the old man turned to face him, the other student struck, screaming and throwing a roundhouse kick into the old mans face with incredible force. Understandably, he collapsed to the floor, unmoving.

   “Man, ‘e was trippin’” said the shorter of the two men, the ninja known as Taiwo P.

   “I hear ya, mah ninja. No drugs, no cars, no drum ’n’ bass? Dat geezer was evil.”

   “Let us move from here, Gonorsan J.”

   The two ninjas stepped over the lifeless body teacher. There was a clunk as doors slammed, and then suddenly the very air was filled with roaring. Pushing out hard house music at ear-bleeding volume, a blue and white Dodge Viper tore toward the single-track road, huge clouds of dust behind it. As it passed, both men flicked cigarette ash out of their windows.

   The two ninja’s headed back to their ‘hood.

More from the ninja's next month! If you have any ideas, please mail them to me, and I may well use them. I could even write you into the story! How cool is that?

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