by Marty Chan
“Maybe we should do this in the living room or the kitchen,” I suggested.
Mikayla smiled. “It’s okay. My mom’s outside. Enter.”
I inched toward her.
She waved me over. “You’ll see better here.”
I walked to the other side of the bed and stood with my back against the wooden closet door. “Go ahead.”
“Okay, I’ve never shown anyone this before now.” She placed the computer on the middle of the bed so I could read the screen:
Shogun Kid
A Novel by Mikayla L. Jackson
Book the First:
In the year 3765, Martin, a young and handsum kid who stood five feet, four inches tall and had black hare and wore silver-framed glasses and was an expert at all things teknologikal, had a majorly serus problem, worse than getting gum stuck in his braces right before a visit to the dentist. He had hacked into the Pentagone’s super powerful computer system, and now goverment agents in black suits and dark sunglasses were after his head along with Raven’s Eye, the secret evil ajency that hired him to sabotawge the Pentagone computers in the first place. But that wasn’t his problem. His reel problem was that he couldn’t find her. He had hacked into computers around the entire world to find data about the woman he liked. All he had was a name, Mika. They met on a cyber date (which means they didn’t actualy meat in person, but on the internet which is sometimes called cyber space), sending IMs until he reelized that he had to meat her F2F. But the mysteryous woman with the ekaly mysteryous avatar of a black panther dropped off line before he could learn her last name. Now he searched the world wide web for the mysteryous woman he knew that he would evenchaly marry . . . ”
She was writing a romantic novel set in some futuristic world. Beside the text was the same kissing cartoon man from the School Friendz heart message that the fake ‘me’ had sent. I was pretty sure I knew who she had cast as the main character of her novel. She looked at me, her eyes wide and expecting. I had to say something, but what?
“What do you think?” she asked.
“It’s very good,” I said. “But I don’t understand the line about the ‘woman he lived.”
“That’s supposed to be ‘loved.’”
I hesitated.
“I really like Martin, don’t you?” she asked.
“He’s okay.”
“He’s supposed to be you.” She said, batting her eyes.
I wanted to run, but I also knew that I had to see what the cyber bully had sent her. She stood up and walked toward me, cornering me between her closet and the judgmental Bill Gates.
“Will you help me write the ending?” she said.
“Um . . . I don’t know the first thing about writing,” I said.
“You knew how to write that Friendz note.”
“Oh, right, but that was a fluke.”
She inched closer, cutting off any escape. “Ms. Nolan said we have to ‘write what you know’, and you know what’s programmed in your heart.”
“Ms. Nolan also said you shouldn’t use real names in a story.”
Mikayla was so close her braces could cut me to shreds if she turned her head slightly. I shifted closer to the poster and knocked into the nightstand, rattling the collection of glass animals on top. A giraffe toppled over. She rushed to the nightstand to protect her zoo.
“Let’s bookmark this moment,” she said as she righted her collection.
I slipped closer to the doorway, making sure I had an escape route.
She turned around from the nightstand and walked toward me. “Now where were we?”
“You were going to check to see if any of my messages showed up in your School Friendz account.”
“Oh, Marty, don’t be so shy. Now that we’re away from everyone, you can unlock your passion and tell me what’s in your heart. Go on.”
“Okay . . . I think one of my notes went like this. Mikayla, Mikayla, you’re so, so, so, so, very, very, super special.”
She shook her head. “That’s not like the first note. Tell me again how we belong together like pancakes and blueberries. You made all these delicious food metaphors about your love for me. Tell me more like that.”
“Uh, sure. I am the barbecue for you. So, very hot to touch, but smoky and fiery.”
“And what am I?”
“The baby octopus tentacles my mom makes. Always clinging on to me.”
“What?”
She folded her arms over her chest.
“I mean you’re like boiled beef. You fall off the bone with a single touch.”
“Are you making fun of me? What’s going on here? What happened to the poetry of your first note?”
“I guess I lost it because I’m so nervous. Can we see the first note and that will get me started?”
She eyed me cautiously, then picked up her laptop from the bed and called up her Friendz profile. Over her shoulder, I saw the private message box with a message from the fake ‘me’. The note read:
Mikayla, you are the pancake of my life and I hope I can be your blueberry, because together, we’d be so sweet. There are times you make me so hungry to see you again. You’re the cinnamon twist that brings a smile to my face, and I want to be the hot chocolate that brings a smile to yours.
She pointed at the screen. “I want more of that poetry, Marty.”
“Um, sure, no problem. Give me a second to think.”
Ping. The laptop signalled an IM. On the screen, the user name came up as “Marty Chan.” The message read: RU there?
Mikayla looked from the screen to me, puzzled. “Are you sending me an IM?”
I shrugged, holding up my empty hands.
Her confusion turned to anger. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“No, no, I can explain.”
She advanced on me. “You jerk.”
“It’s not me,” Mikayla. “There’s this cyber — ”
“Get out! Get out of my house right now.” She swung at me and connected with my arm. She was surprisingly powerful. I backed through the doorway, rubbing my arm as I went.
“I can’t believe I let you preview my story. I hate you. I hate you.” She smacked me again and again.
“Mikayla, seriously, that hurts.”
“Out!”
I turned tail and ran down the hallway to the living room and blasted out of the front door. Mikayla’s mom was mowing the lawn. She waved as I ran past her. I nodded and kept going. A quick glance back and I saw Mikayla glaring at me through the screen door. The look on her face reminded me of the cop shows I had seen, where a killer had just made up his mind to commit murder. I kept running.
Halfway down the block, a shout caused me to skid to a stop.
“Nathan!” Remi shouted into his walkie-talkie. “Come out. We’re ready for our first lesson.”
A few houses away, my friend stood on a lawn with a couple of grade six boys. Nathan stepped out of the house holding the other walkie-talkie, the one that used to be mine, and he clapped Remi on the shoulder. They looked like they were the best of friends.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I crept closer to the house, but stayed behind a parked minivan so Remi couldn’t see me.
“Hi-ya!” the boys yelled as Nathan instructed them to practise striking invisible boards. Beside Remi, Eric Johnson machine-gun chopped his “board”. On Remi’s other side, Ben Winston looked like he was trying to flag down a car with his chopping technique.
Nathan then brought out a real wooden board and waved for his disciples’ attention. The minivan provided good cover, but I couldn’t hear very well. I moved closer, keeping low and hiding behind a black Camry about a hundred feet away from the action.
“Now I will show you the awesome power of karate. What you see here is a board. I need a volunteer.”
Remi raised his hand. “I’m up for anything.”
“Very good. Hold this board.”
My friend grabbed the board, while the other boys formed a semicircle in front
of Nathan. They were eager to see the master in action, and he basked in the glow of their excited gazes. He sized up the board and then yelled, “Hi-ya!”
With one swift move he snapped the thing in half. Nathan was the real deal.
Ben cheered, “Nathan you pwned that board. I can’t wait until you teach us that. Man, there’s a couple of things I’d like to break. Math textbook. My sister’s cell phone.”
Eric joined in. “I’d chop up the stupid dresser my mom makes me keep my clothes in.”
Ben asked, “What’s so bad about the dresser?”
“It was my grandma’s old dresser and it smells like old lady.”
Nathan ignored the ongoing chatter as he walked over to Remi and grabbed the pieces of the board.
“Thanks, Boudreau,” he said, patting him on the shoulder.
“You did great, Nathan.”
He bowed to Remi, who returned the gesture. Nathan then turned to the group and addressed them: “You guys can learn to do this. My dad is offering karate lessons at a ten-percent discount. Tell him I sent you and he’ll sign you up. We can go to the dojo right now.”
“Do you think your dad will take an IOU.?” Eric asked. “Because my mom doesn’t get paid until the end of the month and I kind of spent all my money on a video game.”
Ben inched back. “I thought I was going to get free lessons. You know, because I did your social homework.”
Nathan shook his head. “That got you the ten-percent discount.”
Eric whined, “But I was hoping to learn some karate now, because I wanted to smash in some heads.”
“Johnson, you don’t use karate to beat people up,” Nathan said.
“Then why should I learn it?” Eric asked.
Nathan replied, “You learn it so that people are so scared of you they’ll do whatever you want them to do. Once they hear you know karate, Johnson, they’ll be shaking in their boots.”
Eric quipped, “Maybe I’ll tell people I know karate and save myself some money.”
Ben laughed. Nathan did not. Neither did Remi, who was now looking in my direction. I ducked low, wondering if he had spotted me. With my back against the car, I noticed why he had turned his head in my direction. Trina, Samantha and Ida were walking toward me. I waved at them to go back. The girls hesitated and then turned around.
“Forget Eric, Nathan. I think karate is pretty cool,” Remi said. “I totally get what you’re saying.”
It was unlike him to suck up. I wondered why he was so chummy with Nathan all of a sudden. I wondered if he decided to get back at me for ratting on him by hanging out with someone else who didn’t like me.
Remi made sniffing sounds. “Hey guys, do you smell something?”
Eric asked, “Like popcorn? My mom says I can’t eat popcorn. Makes me fart.”
He waved him off. “No, it smells more like a rat. And it’s getting closer. You guys smell it now?”
Was he talking about Trina? She was already out of earshot.
“I think it’s coming from the car,” Remi said. “Come out, Marty. I see you.”
I started to crawl under the car, but Ben came running around the front. “Spy!”
Remi corrected him. “No, it’s a rat. That’s what it smelled like earlier.”
I scrambled to my feet and backed up, but Eric was behind me.
“What are you doing here, Chan?” Nathan asked. “Alberta’s supposed to be a rat-free zone.”
Eric added, “Get out of here. Remi told us what you did, slanty eyes.”
I ignored his comment, but it was hard to listen to the laughter from the others. It was even harder to see my friend do nothing. Normally, he would have stood up for me. Instead, he turned to Nathan. “Let’s get out of here. I can’t stand the smell of rats.”
“You heard Boudreau, guys. Let’s go.” Nathan led the group back to his house.
“It’s going to be so cool when we get to the sports school, Nathan. I think the first thing we should do is get lockers beside each other.”
“Yeah, that’d be awesome. I’ll see if my dad can pull some strings with the principal,” Nathan said. “They’re old army buddies.”
Eric interrupted, “How about I do your computer homework and you teach me? You know you need help in computers.”
Nathan laughed. “Not from you, Johnson. You’re worse than I am. Besides, I’ve got someone doing my homework already. Listen, the ten-percent discount is good until the end of the week. Drop by the dojo anytime and tell my dad I sent you.”
I watched my former friend walk off with his new pals. A burning sensation formed at the pit of my stomach and spread to my chest. My hands curled into fists and my face felt hot, as if someone had slapped me on both cheeks. Something wet streaked down my cheeks, but I wasn’t going to wipe it away until Remi and Nathan were far away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Once Nathan and Remi were far down the block, Trina’s gang came out from behind the minivan. They rushed toward me, eager to find out what happened in Mikayla’s house. That seemed so unimportant to me now, but I brought the girls up to speed.
Trina asked, “And what about what happened here? What was Remi saying?”
I shrugged. “Looks like he’s found a new friend.”
Ida rolled her eyes. “With that jerk? He’s always trying to be better than everyone else. One time, he offered to walk me home. He said he could take care of any enemies, seen and unseen. I told him off.”
Samantha smiled, “You’re tough, Ida. Good thing you’re on our side. Marty, did you get to see Mikayla’s Friendz profile?”
I shook my head. “The cyber bully sent an IM while I was in her room. She figured out someone was playing a joke on her, and I’m pretty sure she thinks it’s me. It’s only a matter of time before she guesses one of you was the accomplice.”
Samantha scrunched her face. “Mikayla was our only chance at catching this jerk.”
Ida nodded. “You guys have any more leads?”
I shook my head.
“Well, if this is a dead end, then what do we do?” Samantha asked.
Trina was quick to reply. “Give us some time, Samantha. We just have to come up with a new list of suspects. Right, Marty?”
I didn’t feel like working on the case any more.
Ida sneered. “I can’t believe you losers actually caught me last year. You’re terrible detectives.”
Samantha nodded. “I could have done better myself.”
“We’ll find the cyber bully,” Trina said. “Give us time. I promise we will figure out a way to catch the cyber bully.”
Ida shook her head. “Mikayla isn’t going to keep quiet about this. I’ll bet she goes to The Rake first thing tomorrow morning to report us. Marty’s going to be suspended. Maybe you too, Trina.”
My partner looked at me for help, but I had no answer for her. I just walked away.
That night, sleep was like the captain of a dodge ball team picking his line-up. I waited and hoped it would call on next. Only when I was the last player left to be picked, did sleep finally claim me — about twenty seconds before my alarm clock went off. Between worrying about Mikayla telling The Rake, and wondering why Remi became friends with Nathan, I couldn’t sleep a wink. I pulled myself from the bed, still unsure about what to do. The only thing I could think of was to throw myself at Mikayla’s feet and beg for mercy, like I did when I played dodge ball.
I arrived at school about twenty minutes early. Teachers’ cars were parked in the lot, but no students were around. I eyed the east and west entrances to the building, wondering which one Mikayla would use. Eventually, I decided to split the difference and plant myself against the wall between the two.
The weird thing about showing up before everyone else was I got to see how people looked at the start of the day. Some kids were eager to get to school. They were mostly the younger kids who spent much of their classes playing games and learning to raise their hands if they needed to go to the bathroom.
Some kids were grumpy; likely they had to write a test or forgot their homework.
Nathan moved through the schoolyard as if he were expecting ninjas to come out from any corner or crevice, or maybe he was just on the lookout for the pesky Kennedy Anderson who wobbled over and handed him a blue binder.
“Now can I get my green belt, Nathan?”
“Not yet, Anderson. Your training isn’t done.”
“But I did what you told me to do.”
“I still have some work that needs doing,” Nathan said.
I could care less about Nathan’s homework problems. I turned away from the two to see Mikayla. She slipped into the schoolyard from the far end and headed toward the west-end entrance. I moved from my spot and cut her off. She veered away from the building, but I jogged after her.
“Access denied, jerk,” she yelled.
“I want to talk,” I said.
She clutched her backpack straps and broke into a run.
“Mikayla! Come back.”
I chased her to the school shed, away from prying eyes. She finally slowed, trying to catch her breath and adjust her backpack.
“Just hear me out.”
“Why? So you can make a fool out of me again?” she said.
“No one wants to make you look like a fool.”
“I’ll bet you and your friend were laughing over the note. Who was it? Remi, I’ll bet. You two twits are always together.”
“I can prove that I didn’t have anything to do with that School Friendz note, Mikayla. Just don’t tell Principal Henday.”
She stopped for a second, her eyes narrowing. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“I’m not the one who set up the profile. Turning me in isn’t going to stop this jerk from doing something else to you. I look guilty right now, but you have to believe me that I didn’t send you that note.”
