137I have had the mother and father of all writers block. I am sorry that I let this one almost go the way of "Ghosts". I am hoping to get it finished in the way I envisioned it so long ago when I started it.
"TMNT" belong to Viacom and Nickelodeon (shudders).
Stalking the Green-Eyed Monster
Last time:
Leo went to get Mike, and as he walked, he felt taller than he'd ever felt in his life. The realization of everything that had taken place today was beginning to hit him.
He stopped at the dojo, struck in thought.
He'd snuck out of the lair, despite orders to the contrary. He'd led human intruders to almost Certain Death (well, maybe not death, but still…). He'd managed to make his brothers look like the rule breakers by getting back inside without being seen. He had even beaten his father home, and the rat was none the wiser for his earlier absence.
And he had nearly mastered the Kata of all Katas!
No wonder he felt so tall… he was Almost a Grown-Up!
And with this euphoric feeling carrying him on, he woke up his brother with a promise of watching "Spiderman and his Amazing Friends" with him.
The Art of War
Sun Tzu says:
25. Regard your soldiers as your children, and they
will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them
as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you
even unto death.
"Michelangelo, you must chew your food before you swallow or else you will choke."
"Raphael, the fork is an instrument designed for eating food, not for throwing it."
"Donatello, I glanced at your assignment before supper. Your penmanship is very nice, but you misspelled several words—SENSEI! Donatello just threw a meatball at me!"
"Perhaps you need to recall your position in this family, my son. I am the father, not you. Please refrain from annoying your brothers."
The snickering of the others was faint but Leo had no trouble hearing it. He forced himself to not be embarrassed, and instead bowed a polite "I'm sorry, Sensei" to Splinter before carefully twirling the Right Amount of spaghetti onto his fork, then just as carefully spearing HALF of a meatball (also the Right Amount) and THEN carefully transporting it all to his mouth, where he chewed twenty-seven times before swallowing.
At this rate, the others would be eating dessert before Leonardo had finished half of his meal, but Adults do not bolt their food. Adults eat like—well, Adults.
He glanced at the others without seeming to.
Mike was the messiest—honestly, that boy still needs a bib. His plastron, "protected" by a napkin, was nevertheless decorated in spaghetti sauce and a few stray pieces of pasta that had escaped the death-maul known as Mike's mouth. He was a happy eater, and happiest when it was spaghetti.
Mike twirled his fork in the huge pile of noodles as if he were fighting an enemy with his 'chuk, and then hoisted an unwieldy amount of it into the air, long pieces trailing from the fork across the plate and table. It looked like he had half his serving on that one fork, there was so much.
Then, to Leo's usual amazement, he stuffed it all into his mouth where he chewed quickly and carelessly, only taking time to slurp up any remaining strands with as much noise and gusto as possible.
The final straw was when he tossed a meatball high into the air with his hand and caught it in his mouth.
"Michelangelo, remember your manners!" Leo snapped.
"Leonardo, remember yours," came the sharp reprimand of his Sensei and Father. "Michelangelo, I do not want you to do that again. Remember your…" Splinter was going to say "manners", but caught himself just in time—"… napkin and use it, my son. You are making a large mess."
Leonardo watched as Don and Raph played with their food in ways similar to Mike, though not so as to attract any real notice (except for the brief flair-up when Don had suggested to Raph they try the "Lady and the Tramp" spaghetti scene and Raph had gotten reprimanded by Splinter for using Inappropriate Language at the table when a simple "No" would have been sufficient). No one could compete with Mike when it came to eating spaghetti, it seemed. He shook his head, and returned his attention to his own meal.
Leonardo's place at the table was practically immaculate. The only other place that was as clean (if not cleaner) was Splinter's. Surely this was visual proof that Leonardo was indeed an Adult!
Sun Tzu says:
26. If, however, you are indulgent, but unable to make
your authority felt; kind-hearted, but unable to enforce
your commands; and incapable, moreover, of quelling disorder:
then your soldiers must be likened to spoilt children;
they are useless for any practical purpose.
Hmmm…they are rather spoilt and useless at the moment. I've been too kind-hearted, I guess. Well, they'll feel my authority once I do that new kata, he mused, getting back to business with his meal. Splinter will HAVE to acknowledge me as his second-in-command and put ME in charge of their training at once!
With his happy thoughts of the kata and lording it over his brothers, I mean, leading his brothers, he picked up his pace of eating. Don and Raph were on kitchen duty tonight, and Splinter would be going over their assignments—when he wasn't intervening in the usual trouble of Raph's insisting that Don wasn't washing right, he was leaving too much food crud on the plates so they would all get sick just because of some evil experiment of his, while Don would be using all sorts of Big Words to piss Raph off because he thought Don was insulting him… which, of course, he was, but just exactly HOW he was insulting him Raph still couldn't figure out.
From a Time point of view, the dishes alone would take anywhere from forty-five to sixty minutes, tops. Splinter's having to referee could possibly add an additional ten minutes, not to mention another twenty minutes to go over Raphael's assignment (due to said student's frequent arguments about why couldn't he "write about stupid scary dumbass bugs like that, ya said a science report, and it's a science report, man, not everyone can write about gross, disgusting, scary as hell bugs like Don can, why are ya always comparin' me ta him?"), followed by another ten minutes about the importance of neat handwriting especially if one wanted to focus on science (and the accompanying argument that "poor penmanship is often a sign of higher intelligence, and they say Einstein had really poor penmanship, and did you know that da Vinci wrote backwards like mirror writing, and he was a genius, though it's true that Raph's penmanship is much worse than mine and HE certainly is no genius"…)
That was DEFINITELY good for an additional fifteen minutes of mayhem and parenting skills put to the test!
Leo quickly calculated that between Splinter, Raph and Don, he had a window of ninety minutes to a possible two hours of time to copy the kata and return Mike's inaccurately titled folder to his stupid notebook.
Mike would be in the bath for an extra-long time tonight, spaghetti aside, due to the distraction of Splinter with the other two, not to mention the fact that Splinter had found during today's scavenging a Teela™ action figure, minus one leg ("Poor Teela…. I guess Skeletor got you good, but don't worry, He-Man will avenge you!"), a squirting shark bath toy ("YES! JUST what I've always wanted!"), and the "pizza resistance!" as Mike had cheerfully crowed, a bathtub faucet cover in the shape of a TURTLE! ("So THAT'S what the huge hole in his butt is for!" "Naw, Mike, he needs it ta poop out plastic blocks." "Raphael! Enough!"). That ALONE would Leo give PLENTY of time to get the kata copied and then replace it in Mike's notebook, even if the other stuff wasn't happening!
Heck, he could probably get in a bit of practice as well, it was a cinch that no one else would be taking a bath tonight, Mike would probably lock the door and not come out until he'd "used up all the hot water in New York City for crap's sake, Mike, how are the rest of us supposed ta take a bath when yer creatin' a shortage like that, jeeze, it ain't like nobody else might be wantin' ta get clean tonight ya stupid water hog!"
Three hours at the least, thought Leonardo, happily spearing the other half of his meatball and chewing it twenty-three times because in his excitement he forgot to Count Properly.
It was Perfect.
Then Splinter stood up.
"I will do the dishes tonight, my sons. I want to be sure they are cleared away before I go out briefly."
"Where are you going, Sensei?" Leo immediately asked above the cheering of the other two.
"I am uneasy about today's events," he said, as he began clearing the table. "The scent of all those humans is still strong in my memory. There were too many and they were too close, and intermingled were other scents that disturb me. I have been uneasy in my soul all evening so I am going to do a quick check of the perimeters. I want to be sure these scents are only in my imagination, and not close to our home."
The others didn't seem surprised or concerned. They knew that Splinter was The Best, and there was nothing to worry about if he didn't tell them to worry.
But Leonardo felt as if his spaghetti was fighting a war with the meatballs in the pit of his stomach. If Sensei could sniff out the humans, he might just also sniff out one wayward turtle!
"Ha!" Little Angel Turtle whispered in his conscientious. "Bet you didn't remember how Sensei is like a bloodhound!"
"He ain't got nuttin' ta worry about," Little Devil Turtle asserted. "Splinter's just worried about humans. Ain't no way he can smell turtle, and even if he does, who's ta say it wasn't one of the others, if ya catch my meaning."
"Let ME go, Sensei!" he heard himself saying. "You need to let Don and Raph wash those dishes, you've been working hard all day, and they need those papers corrected, and—"
"Leonardo, I will take care of it. Go watch television. Michelangelo, do not use up all of the hot water for your bath! I am serious!"
"Hai, Sensei," they all chorused, trooping off to do as they were told—all except Leonardo, Master Ninja and Adult and Second-In-Command.
"Se-Sensei," he began again, the cold panic beginning to move from his stomach to his brain. "Sensei, I'm SURE they're far gone! Stay home tonight and rest. You really should just go sit down and check Don and Raph's homework and then watch some relaxing TV and drink some tea and.. and.." he began to falter under the gaze of his Father and Sensei. "… and I could check the perimeters for you… and be fast… and…"
Splinter's silent gaze was more powerful than words. Leo gulped, then sighed.
"Hai, Sensei," he said, leaving the kitchen and seating himself on the couch where the other two were already bickering over what to watch, while the noise from the bathroom told him that, despite Sensei's orders, the Mikey Show promised to be long and loud and messy tonight.
Raph and Don were starting a fight about what to watch, so Leo slipped into his room, determined to copy the kata as quickly as possible.
Working quietly, constantly glancing over his shoulder at every little sound, he dug out his notebook, his writing instruments, and the kata, mind recalculating the time frame.
Splinter would have the entire dishes wash, dried and put away in ten minutes. He'd be leaving as soon as he'd finished, with maybe sparing five minutes to break up the fight on the couch over whether to watch Monster Truck Racing on the sports channel or the marathon showing of "The Secret Life of Plants"—again—followed by Splinter's threatening to disconnect this new fangled cable thing that Donatello had managed to install.
To patrol the boundaries it would take Splinter at least ten minutes to reach the first, then anywhere from twenty to forty minutes to make the rounds. Leo, erring on the side of caution, now estimated that, Mike's bath aside, he only had forty-five minutes to get busy—still enough time, barring any need to break up the fight between Don and Raph once Splinter was gone. Say he'd make one attempt at the ten minute mark, then ignore them until Splinter got back—he'd still be able to get the job done, and MAYBE still manage a quick run-through of what he already knew of the kata.
He could do this.
He squared up his paper on his desk, arranged his pens and ink neatly, rearranged them because the second from the right was not quite in line with the other five, turned on the little light on his desk so he didn't need the glare of the overhead light to alert the others that he was Doing Something Important—moved his notebook once again, fluffed up his cushion that he sat on—turned his "desk" a fraction of an inch to the right—realigned ALL of his pens as they'd rolled out of position when he'd moved the desk—opened the folder to begin the task of copying—
"Whatcha doin' bro?"
The folder nearly flew out of his hand, and he nearly jumped out of his shell, simultaneously scared to death and angry at Raph who had once again startled him.
"What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?"
"Ya said ninja shouldn't be sneaky and that Splinter was all wrong about it," came the easy reply. Raph proceeded to flop down on his bed, feet near his pillow, and grin wickedly at Leo from the foot of the bed, waiting for the sputtering response that Splinter was Never Wrong About Anything!
Leo counted to ten at least five times, ignoring Raph for the moment with Icy Indifference while all the time calming his still rapidly beating heart.
"I am working on my writing, if you must know," Leo finally said as coldly as he could. "Something YOU should do as well, I might suggest. Why aren't you out there fighting with—watching tv with Don?"
" 'Cause Don and I got a deal. He gets ta watch his show for a half-hour, then I get to watch MINE for a half-hour. So I thought I'd see what YOU were doin'."
Leonardo kept his back to his brother, straightening and restraightening his writing materials. After five minutes of this, he was running out of ideas.
"So, ain't ya gonna practice?"
"How can I with you watching me?"
"If I don't watch ya, how will I learn? Yer always goin' on in the dojo about if I watch ya closely I'll learn somethin'. So I'm watchin' ya work on yer writin', and then maybe I'll learn ta be better with my own writin', which you seem ta think needs improvement."
Silence, only because Leo was struggling not to lose his temper and Raph was struggling not to burst out laughing at the spectacle of Leonerdo trying to keep control of his emotions.
Raph, sprawled on his plastron, head propped up on his hands, watched for a few more minutes, then brought up another topic.
"Speakin' of you teachin' me something, how about you teaching me how ya hid today in this tiny lair so that Don and I couldn't find ya."
Gulp.
" 'Cause the way I see it, we've been playing 'Hide 'n Seek' since practically forever, and we all know where all the hidin' places is, so how is it that you suddenly have a new one no one knows about?"
"Maybe he was hiding under the towels again," came Mike's voice and he entered the room, flipping on the overhead light and making a beeline for Leo's desk. Leo had enough presence of mind to hide the folder quickly and smoothly under his notebook. "Whatcha doin'?"
"Why aren't you in the bath?" Leo demanded. He hastily covered his notebook with his body because it was apparent that Mike was still covered in spaghetti and sauce, and Leo did NOT want any stray food falling on his precious items!
"I needed something, but now I forgot what," Mike grinned, turning back to grab his favoritest pajamas (the ones with the Spiderman™ top and the Star Wars™ bottoms).
"Under the towels?" Raph snorted. "What kind of dumb hiding place is that?"
Mike shrugged.
"He was hiding under the towels a few nights ago when I was taking my bath. Said he was training."
"Trainin' fer what? Laundry duty?"
Both brothers snorted laughter as Leo practiced his Indignant Glare at them both.
"He said it would come in handy in the future," Mike responded, grinning at the expression on Leo's face. "He said a good leader always plans for the future."
"Well, I don't see no future where we'd hafta hide under some badguy's nasty old towels," Raph laughed some more. "We're ninja, not waterbugs!"
Both brothers began another round of raucous laughter, while Leo struggled to come up with a crushing response.
Unfortunately, he wasn't able to.
FORTUNATELY, Don saved him by the announcement that "It's YOUR turn, Raph! Since Mike's not in the bath, think I'll take a quick shower!"
"NOOOOOOO!" Mike bellowed, vanishing as quickly as he'd appeared. Raph, however, rolled lazily out of the bed and sauntered towards the door, pausing to glance back at Leo.
"We ain't finished, Leo. I know you were outta the lair today. I can't prove it—yet—but I know this place as well as you, and even if ya WAS under the towels, we would have found ya, 'cause we both tore the bathroom apart. And besides, there weren't no towels on the floor."
"You'll never discover my hiding place," Leo managed bravely. "And I was NOT out of the lair."
"That's good then…. 'cause you KNOW Sensei can smell anything," came the faint response from the living room followed by the roar of the Monster Trucks on the TV.
Leo looked at the clock, blocking Raph's comment from his mind. A half-hour of his precious time had been wasted. Now he probably had twenty-five minutes at the most to get this done!
Quickly he began to copy, furitively looking over his shoulder every few seconds to see if Donatello would now invade his privacy. He could hear the opening theme of the Mikey Show from the bathroom; Raph was shouting and cheering at every monster truck that was crushing anything at all.
Kusanku
1. Look
2. Left pinan block
3. Right pinan block
4. Pull
5. Knife hand
6. Right punch, outside block
7. Left punch, outside block
8. Pull
9. Kick, turn, pinan block
10. Pinan block
11. Pinan block—OOPS!
He had the first eleven moves copied—neatly—in cursive—oops! When he'd thought he'd heard the door open, he'd turned too quickly and knocked his bottle of ink over—quickly he set it up, but enough of the black stuff had gotten on his paper.
Maybe he should use pencil?
He began a new page, this time with a carefully sharpened number 2 pencil firmly in his grasp.
"I guess the scent of little turtle would be hard to notice," mused Little Angel Turtle in his right ear.
12. Knife hand
13. High block
14. Kick and down
15. Naihanchi, side block
16. High block
17. Kick and down
18. Naihanchi, side block
19. Pull
"Sure," agreed Little Devil Turtle into his left. "All them humans, not to mention that humungous albino alligator chasing them as well. Hell, that giant reptile would definitely cover up the smell of a naughty, rule-breaking turtle better 'n Lysol™ spray!"
Copy copy copy…. Erase erase erase… copy copy copy…
"Still…. " Little Angel Turtle went on, "He DID know which turtle had gone out of the lair a few weeks ago, remember?"
"Raph was just careless, and besides, he shouldn't had cleaned the strawberry jam off his foot, then Sensei might have thought it was Mike."
"Nope, the strawberry jam, or lack of, wasn't a part of it. Sensei came in KNOWING that he'd been out of the lair."
Copy scribble erase copy copy copy turn stop listen look…. Copy copy scribble…
"Yeah, but it might have been a lucky guess. How comes he didn't notice that all three of them had been outside when he came home?"
"Too distracted I guess."
"Yeah, too distracted."
27. Kick, down up, step behind, seisan
28. Punch punch
29. Down
30. Up, double strike
31. Down and strike
32. Right seisan, block—RIIIIIP!
"Damn it!" Leo let slip, grabbing yet another sheet of paper and starting all over again. He'd made it this far before Disaster.
"Man, that was a great show!" he could hear Raph cheering from the living room. A brief glance at the clock and he knew Sensei would be back soon.
Hurriedly he got a fresh piece of paper and began again.
"Still, I think that Sensei can't possibly discover that Leo disobeyed him," Little Devil Turtle said. "Too much interference this time, smell/wise."
"I hate to admit it, but I believe you are right," Little Angel Turtle said sadly. "Shame… he used to be the GOOD turtle… but it appears he's gotten away with it."
"Where is Leonardo?"
The voice of Splinter sounded throughout the lair, stern and demanding in its tone of immediate answer.
"Then again…."
TBC