Little Yokozuna (17 page)

"Which is?"

"Treat the whole thing like a big comedy routine," said Q.J. "Look at him! He's on stage."

She was right. The big demon was hamming it up for the audience, standing on one leg, pretending to lose his balance and just catching it at the last second, spinning around like a top.

"See that?" said Q.J. "He has to convince everyone that he never took Kiyoshi-chan's challenge seriously, and is just being a good sport. That's his only way out."

"But that could backfire on him," said Knuckleball.

"Of course it could," said O.J. "Look at him! I think he really did almost trip himself that time. All it takes is one slip, and Kiyoshi-chan's the winner."

"That's not what I'm talking about," said Knuckleball. "I mean that sumo is serious business, and this is a sacred dohyo. He can't get away with making it all a big joke. He can't let it go on too long."

This seemed to make sense, but the big demon warrior, desperate to save his endangered honor, was going to new lengths to amuse his audience, at one point even leaping into the air for another double somersault, landing on both feet. Kiyoshi-chan held on through it all, his face crushed into the rough lacings of the armor.

Knuckleball was thinking hard. Something about the impossible lightness of the demon warrior's leaps had triggered something, an elusive memory, something that it seemed he should know about these demons. Frustratingly, whatever it was kept slipping around the net of his thoughts, escaping him. He pulled his glasses off, jammed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, and stooped over, thinking, thinking, thinking.

"Are you OK, Knuckles?" asked Owen Greatheart. "Does your stomach hurt?"

"I'm thinking" said Knuckleball through his teeth.

He thought back to the demon's reaction to Kiyoshi-chan's challenge. For a moment, incredibly, it had seemed like real fear. What could such a massive demon have to fear from such a little boy? He has a weakness, thought Knuckleball. What on earth could it be? The audience was still laughing at the comic scene on the dohyo, but the laughter was beginning to seem strained. At any moment the great demon would realize that he was overdoing it, and would have no choice but to fling the little boy out of the ring and be done with it. Knuckleball ground his fists into his eyes, and beat his head with his knuckles.

And then, just when he had almost given it up, the memory he had been waiting for came sliding back, clear as crystal. Just as every baseball player forever remembers his or her sweetest swings, the perfect crack of certain memorable hits, the coming together of bat and ball and arm and body in a rare and unforgettable harmony, Knuckleball suddenly remembered the swing of a certain fence post, the crack of contact, and the head of the demon rolling away down the road.

"That's it!" he shouted, straightening up laughing and flinging out his arms. "That's it!" His brothers and sisters stared at him, aghast.

"Have you finally completely lost it, Knucklehead?" asked Annie. "What in the world are you crowing about? Our representative is about to get tossed here."

"He's nothing but an empty suit of armor!" said Knuckleball, jumping up and down. "Remember thatthat helmet, Annie? There was nothing in it!"

"You're crazy, Knuckles!" said Q.J.

But Knuckleball leaped off the step and pushed his way between two gigantic yokozuna to get to the edge of the ring. No one paid him any attention. Looking up, the boy felt more dwarfed than ever by the enormous demon, towering over the dohyo.

"Kiyoshi-chan!" he hissed. The great demon was standing momentarily still, trying to gauge the audience, obviously aware that the moment was coming to finish off this absurd bout. Kiyoshi-chan had his eyes squinched shut, but he heard Knuckleball's whisper.

"What?" he said, not opening his eyes.

"The old wedgie-dashi," Knuckleball said. "Give him the old wedgie-dashi!"

"I don't remember wedgie," said Kiyoshi-chan, in a pathetic voice. "I don't remember what you're talking about!"

"Never mind," said Knuckleball, trying in vain to remember the Japanese word for the proper kimari-te. "You just have to lift him up. You have to get your feet on the ground and lift. Hurry! He's just an empty suit of armor! Don't wait for a scientific explanation! You can lift him! Hurry!"

There was no time to think. Kiyoshi-chan suddenly swung his feet to the ground and planted them. Before the great demon had a chance to react, Kiyoshi-chan wrapped his sturdy arms around the massive leg and lifted with all his strength. He staggered, but to the astonishment of everyone, the huge warrior was suddenly hoisted off the ground and wobbling there in midair, windmilling his arms for balance.

"Augggh!" he roared.

Even a suit of samurai armor that large is heavy, being made mostly of iron laced together with linen thongs, and Kiyoshi-chan staggered again under the weight. It still felt like real flesh and sinews inside that flexible armor, and the little boy almost collapsed from his own disbelief of what he had done. The towering warrior was trying desperately to reach down and grab at the little boy's grip without losing his balance completely.

"Now flip him!" cried Knuckleball. "Flip him over!"

With a mighty grunt and heave, the little Japanese boy pulled the demon's leg out from under him. Like an iron tree toppling, the enormous warrior crashed roaring down on his back.

"We did it!" cried the American children, pounding each other on the back and pumping their fists in the air. "We won! We won!"

Kiyoshi-chan looked back at them, panting and grinning, his face very red. He jumped down from the dohyo and rejoined them without a backward look. But after a few minutes of joyful shouting, they all suddenly fell silent, realizing that except for their celebration, there wasn't another sound in the whole ominous arena. They all looked back toward the ring. The red-and-blue suit of armor was creaking its way to a sitting position, and the hideous mask was staring in their direction, with flickers of red flame licking around it. The old priest, in his red referee's robe, had withdrawn to the side of the ring again, and stood as still as before the bout.

Annie looked back into the ugly mask of the demon warrior. "OK," she said. "We passed the first test. What's next?"

 

 

 

 

A bell tolled somewhere far away. The arena vibrated with the sound, though it was not loud. There was an irresistible resonance to it, as if the bell was one of those giant temple bells, struck with a swinging suspended beam, that could cause still ponds to ripple miles beyond the reach of their sound. As it faded away, the great red-and-blue demon warrior on the dohyo fell backward and lay still.

The children looked around, bewildered. In every seat there was still a demon warrior, but there was no longer any movement or conversation. Thousands of masked helmets stared straight out from the highbacked seats, in row after frozen row. Each demon sat erect, hands on his knees, like a painted stone sculpture. The paper lanterns still glowed with their dim mysterious light, far overhead, pulsing with the fluctuations of their inner flames. All else was still. The four great tassels at the corners of the tsuriyane, red, white, black, and green, hung completely without movement. The thirty yokozuna sat lotus-fashion on the floor, their eyes half-closed as if in meditation. The red-and-blue warrior lay on his back on the dohyo floor, apparently lifeless. Even the red-robed gyoji seemed frozen in place, but when Owen Greatheart looked at him, he blinked and moved.

"This was the easy test," quavered the old priest, coming to the edge of the platform and smiling down at them. "The harder one is coming."

"But who's going to make us do it?" said Annie, looking around. "Seems like the creatures who wanted to hurt Little Harriet are all sort of out of action."

"True," said the old priest. "These are evil, malicious beings, more than empty suits of armor but not much.

They are no further danger to you for the time being."

"So all we have to do," said Q.J., "is to find Little Harriet and go home."

"Some things cannot be stopped once they are set in motion," said the old priest. "It will not be as simple as that."

Owen Greatheart looked at the old priest. "Seems like I remember the chief demon saying something like that not very long ago," he said. "Who are you anyway? Are you in some kind of alliance with scum like this?"

"Very much like it," said the old priest. His meaning was not at all clear. "It can't be helped."

"You don't ever answer a question directly," said Owen Greatheart. "Why not?"

"Why do you have such a hunger for direct answers?" asked the old priest. "A direct answer is never what it appears. But ask me a question, and just for you, this once, I will give you a Direct Answer."

"Where is Little Harriet?" blurted Q.J., before anyone else had a chance to speak. But she knew that was the question on the tip of every tongue, and when she saw the priest smile she knew that he also knew it. She wished for a fleeting second that she had asked something different, unexpected, just to shake that exasperating expression, that serene look that was so much like omniscience. But she knew also that no other question mattered.

The old priest turned away from the dohyo, toward a long ramp that led under a section of seats toward a massive wooden door. It was down just such a ramp that the thirty rikishi had earlier marched, from the other side of the arena. He glanced back at them. "She is on the other side of that door," he said.

Without waiting to see if he was following, they raced up the ramp, hearts pounding.

"It'll be locked, wait and see," said Owen Greatheart, still the skeptic. "Why else would he have told us?"

But when they got there, they found that the door, big as it was, had a simple sincere latch, and no lock. They heaved it open and ran through, but fell back, blinded, finding themselves in bright sunshine. Before them was a wide wooden walkway, with painted railings along either side. It was covered by a carved ceiling, but its sides were wide open to a warm ocean of wind that poured across it from right to left. It extended ahead for perhaps a hundred meters, where it touched the top of a mountain. The mountain itself was like a bread loaf set on end, a heap of gargantuan stones and ancient evergreens that seemed to defy every known demand of gravity. Its sides tumbled away downward for thousands of feet, into a misty valley where the white bed of a rocky river was occasionally visible. Hawks soared below the walkway.

"Whoa!" said Knuckleball. "I can't do this. Even stephdders make me dizzy." He staggered back to hold onto the door frame.f

They looked back through the door and down the ramp toward the old priest. He was dimly visible in the shadowed arena, silhouetted against the comparative brightness of the dohyo. They could see the prone form of the huge demon captain on the dohyo itself, and faint impressions of the uncountable rows of demon statues in the seats. The old priest gestured to them in a way that seemed to mean to go on. They looked back again into the sunlit world ahead of them.

"OK," said Annie. "This seems to be another one of those easy choices. Straight ahead."

'Siah and Libby scampered on ahead, shouting with delight, running to the railings to look down into the depths. Basho the monkey followed them, climbing pillars, swinging along on the outside of the railing, leaping through the ceiling rafters of the walkway, seeming both to be sharing in the little children's foolery and making sure they did themselves no harm. Annie and Q.J. each took one of Knuckleball's arms and hustled him along, with Kiyoshi-chan alongside.

"Oh, my," Knuckleball said, trying to cover his eyes. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Owen Greatheart brought up the rear, having closed the door with one last careful look back at the mysterious old priest. He sauntered along with his hands in his pockets, thinking deeply, his baggy jeans snapping in the breeze. The wind was as substantial as food and drink, full of the whole world around them, as warm and enveloping as a tropical sea.

When they finally reached the far end of the walkway, Knuckleball ran to the nearest tree and hugged it. "I do love solid ground," he said.

"Look!" said 'Siah, pointing back. "Look where we just came from!"

When they looked, they saw no sign of the huge arena that should have stood there. At the end of the walkway was a massive door, set into the side of another mountain like the one they were on, but that was all.

"On," said Annie, pointing toward the only path, a narrow stony one that twisted away ahead of them over the piney crown of the mountain. "Little Harriet must be ahead somewhere."

At the crown, they had to pause again.

"Wow," said Owen Greatheart. "Unbelievable. The ocean."

Invisible from the other side of the mountain, they could now see the deep green sea sweeping out in all directions to the horizon. Far below them, they could see where the ocean and land came together, on a beach that looked from where they were like a litter of boulders.