Little Yokozuna (16 page)

"You have no chance," said Annie.

"Neither does anyone else," said Kiyoshi-chan. "But even the littlest rikishi has a better chance than no rikishi."

The American children shrugged, not liking this at all. Only Knuckleball seemed to understand, and he punched Kiyoshi-chan in the shoulder for encouragement.

"So who will you choose to fight?" said Knuckleball. "Eenie-meenie-minie-mo?"

"No eenie-meenie-minie-mo," said Kiyoshi-chan. He pointed to the big demon samurai, who had been listening to this whole conversation with his arms folded across his chest. "I will fight him."

There was a clamor of amazement all around at this audacious statement. The huge demon started as if he had been stung in the rump by a bee.

"You can't do that," said the demon.

"Why not?" asked Kiyoshi-chan.

"Because!" said the demon. "You have to choose choose from these thirty rikishi before you!" He gestured toward the silent sitting ring of wrestlers.

"Who says?" said Kiyoshi-chan. "Did the gods tell you this?"

"That's the way it's done" blustered the demon. "You pick him, you fight him."

"And I pick you" said Kiyoshi-chan.

"I will not fight a little bucket of spit like you," said the massive warrior. "I would be degraded by it."

"I can see only two reasons why you would not fight me," said Kiyoshi-chan. "First, you do not have the spirit of the true rikishi, and would be struck down as soon as you stepped onto the dohyo."

"Not true!" roared the demon warrior. "I have an even greater spirit, the spirit of a demon samurai, and the gods would never strike me down! Just look at this!"

With incredible agility and strength, he leaped backward from his standing position, turning two somersaults in the air and landing on the dohyo. He roared and blustered from there, clashing his sword again on his armor. Finally he settled down.

"He is so male," said Annie wearily.

"I see that you are not struck down," said little Kiyoshi-chan to the warrior. "Then I only see one other reason for you not to participate. You must be afraid to fight me."

The hubbub that followed this was indescribable. The demon warrior stood there thunderstruck, as the vast goblin audience shrieked and rumbled in a mixture of wrath, amazement, and wild laughter.

Knuckleball leaned over toward Q.J. "There's another possibility," he whispered in her ear.

"Maybe he has a weakness of some kind that he's afraid Kiyoshi-chan has figured out."

"Yeah, right," said Q.J. "Wishful thinking."

"I will not do it!" thundered the great warrior from the platform. "Even to listen to this is to lose face! Choose one of these great yokozuna, you little toad, or don't fight at all."

"I choose you," said Kiyoshi-chan stubbornly. "And I appeal to the gyoji."

For the first time the American children noticed a silent figure standing on the far side of the dohyo, so still that it seemed almost like a wooden sculpture. It was dressed in a high-necked robe of subdued red, richly embroidered and sashed. It wore a lofty black hat of curious shape, and held in its hand a stiff fan with a purple tassel hanging from it. The figure bowed toward the children, and the stern face smiled.

"Hey!" said Owen Greatheart. "It's the old priest! What's he doing here?"

"Here," said Kiyoshi-chan, "he seems to be a tategyoji. A sumo referee of the very highest rank. He must be a great priest."

"I guess," said Owen Greatheart. "He does keep popping up, that's for sure. Could he be a traitor? He seems to be in thick with these demons. Why else would he be here? I thought he saved Q.J.'s life, but maybe that was all a big act of some kind."

"Who knows?" said Kiyoshi-chan philosophically. "Regardless, I have appealed to him. If he rules against me, I will have to fight one of the yokozuna. If he rule"What's the big difference?" asked Owen Greatheart. "Will you have a better chance against that big lug than against one of them?"s for me, the demon warrior will have to fight me. Even the demon will not resist the ruling of a tate-gyoji."

"What's the big difference?" asked Owen Greatheart. "Will you have a better chance against that big lug than against one of them?"

Kiyoshi-chan shrugged. "Not really," he said. "But it seems more fitting. And I like the fact that he doesn't like it at all. That has to help me, somehow."

It was true that the great demon warrior, obviously chafing in indignation, still seemed to hold the old referee in respect, and waited for some indication of a decision.

"Well?" he grumbled finally. "Will you make me go through this farce and demean my dignity as a samurai?"

"I will," said the old priest, smiling. "But I'm not sure who is demeaned by it."

The demon rumbled again, deep inside the blast furnace of his chest. "You go too far!" he gritted. "You make me wrestle a puling child."

"But a puling child," said the old priest, "with a great spirit. Prepare for the bout."

The arena was filled with an astonished jumble of conversation as the audience realized what had happened. The children looked around with apprehension. For the demon audience to see their great captain being humiliated in this way seemed to have turned the mood uglier than ever.

"Here we go," said Kiyoshi-chan. Then the little Japanese boy walked over to the earthen platform and tried to climb up onto it. He struggled there kicking for a moment before one of the enormous yokozuna leaned over, put a vast hand under his bottom, and flipped him onto the dohyo. The American children held their breath, until Kiyoshi-chan scrambled to his feet and bowed deeply in return. The wrestler bowed back, chuckling.

"Well," said Knuckleball. "I guess he must be a true sumo wrestler. He didn't get frizzled when he touched the ring."

"Now, don't you go getting superstitious on us, Knuckler," said Q.J., but even she sounded relieved. "Nobody was going to get struck down by any old gods. That was all just a stupid joke by that big bozo."

"Maybe," said Basho the monkey.

 

 

 

 

 

It was a ludicrous sight.

On opposite sides of the dohyo, the giant armored warrior and the little Japanese boy, like some sort of carnival mirror images of each other, went through all the prefight rituals, the rites of purification and preparation.

Kiyoshi-chan had watched so much sumo with so much concentrated attention, and had imitated every movement so many times with his friends, that he went through all the ceremonial stamping of feet, clapping of hands, rinsing of mouths, and tossing of salt without a slip. Without the Little Harriet factor, the sight of the scrawny little boy acting like so much of a yokozuna would have seemed like the most farcical of comedies, and apparently did seem so to the demonic audience, who despite their annoyance couldn't keep down their rumbling laughter. Even the huge impassive wrestlers seated directly around the ring smiled slightly to watch it.

It was something of a surprise to see the gigantic demon taking this part of the proceedings with as much seriousness as his little opponent. A couple of times, however, he paused in midmovement, as if distracted or preoccupied.

"He's still really peeved," said Annie. "He does not want to be up there. He's having a hard time keeping his mind on what he's doing."

"The key to the whole thing," said Knuckleball very seriously, "is the tachi-ai, the first charge. If Kiyoshi-chan makes a false start, it's all over. I don't know if they'd give him a second chance."

"It's all over anyway," said Q.J. "And how did you become such a sumo expert?"

"I had a good teacher," said Knuckleball, adjusting his glasses to squint at her. "A teacher with the spirit of a true rikishi. And I still think Kiyoshi-chan knows something we don't know."

"So how long does the fight last?" asked 'Siah. "Does Kiyoshi-chan lose when the other guy holds his shoulders down for three seconds or something?"

"You're getting it confused with American wrestling," said Knuckleball. "As soon as somebody steps out of the ring or part of his body touches the ground, he loses."

"But that could take just a few seconds!" said Libby. "You mean it's all over in a few seconds?"

"Maybe," said Knuckleball. "But I think Kiyoshi-chan has something up his sleeve."

The pre-bout preparations reached the shikiri stage, where the two sumo wrestlers usually try to intimidate their opponents while gauging the right moment for battle. Back and forth Kiyoshi-chan and his giant opponent went, from their corners to the lines in the ring, squatting, glaring at each other, returning to their corners. Something about the seriousness of the little boy seemed to be affecting both the giant demon and and KIYOSHI-CHAN DOES HIS BEST. 139 the audience, making it more difficult for them to laugh at the ridiculous situation. A strange sense of anticipation descended again over the arena.

"How long will this go on?" asked Annie, about the incessant glaring and squatting and returning to corners. It all seemed like an incomprehensible repetition of rituals.

"Who knows?" said Knuckleball. "See how the referee is holding his fan? That means that they can begin whenever they're ready."

"Won't someone give a signal?" asked Libby. "Blow a whistle or something?"

"Nope," said Knuckleball, smugly, forgetting that he had once asked Kiyoshi-chan exactly the same question. "They just have to sense the right moment to begin."

"Weird," said Owen Greatheart.

But even as he said it, there was a roar from the crowd as the two opponents came up from their crouch and charged at exactly the same instant. Kiyoshi-chan smashed into the huge armored demon and almost bounced off onto the ground, which would have been the end of it.

"Grab his leg!" shouted Knuckleball. "Grab his leg and just hold on!"

But proud little Kiyoshi-chan had no tricks up his sleeve, despite Knuckleball's hopes. He was just full of being Taiho at the moment, and had completely forgotten that he was Kiyoshi-chan. As Taiho, he tried to jump up high enough to grab the demon's belt for one of the standard sumo holds. The demon slapped him away, playing with him. The crowd laughed.

"Forget that stuff, Kiyoshi-chan!" cried Knuckleball. "Try some tricky sumo! Just grab his leg!"

Again and again Kiyoshi-chan tried to fight the demon like Taiho would have fought him, and again and again the demon pushed him away playfully. The goblin arena rocked with hideous mirth. Full of the pride of the rikishi, Kiyoshi-chan could think of nothing but losing honorably, and the playful scorn of the demon charged him with anger.

"Forget that, Kiyoshi-chan!" shouted Knuckleball in despair. "Forget being Taiho! Just be Kiyoshi-chan, and grab his stupid leg!"

"What good would that do?" said Owen Greatheart. "It'd just take him longer to lose."

"Yeah," said Knuckleball, "but the longer he takes to lose the more chance there is of something happening."

"Like what?" asked Owen Greatheart. "Earthquake? Tidal wave? Asteroid attack?"

"Well, just maybe!" yelled Knuckleball, suddenly angry. "Just maybe so! Sometimes you just have to hang on as long as you can, and hope something happens. That's the way life is."

The older children could hardly help laughing at this philosophical statement, but then they wondered why.

"I suppose the big guy might trip and fall," said Owen Greatheart. "Beat himself, sort of. Can demons have heart attacks?"

"I still think Kiyoshi-chan has a plan," said Knuckleball, with evaporating hope. "But I don't know why he's doing all this suicidal jumping around. What good will that do?"

"You little idiot, Kiyoshi-chan!" Annie yelled, with no hope of being heard. "Stop fighting for yourself! You're fighting for Little Harriet! Just hang on for dear life, and stop trying to be a hero!"

By a trick of coincidence, there was a lull in the crowd noise just as she shouted, and against all odds Kiyoshi-chan heard her words over the roar of the crowd. He felt shame suddenly sweep over him, from head to toe in a scalding rush. Taiho abruptly vanished, and Kiyoshi-chan became just a skinny little boy trying to knock over a twelve-foot demon warrior. Casting away all his rikishi pride, he flung both arms and legs around the trunk-like leg of his enormous rival, and held on with all his might.

"Now what" he cried. "Does anybody have a plan?"

"Oh, my," said Knuckleball to his brothers and sisters. "I was sure hoping that he did."

The audience was laughing more loudly than ever, as the demon warrior stomped comically around the ring with Kiyoshi-chan clinging to his leg. "It's so obvious what that big lunkhead's strategy is," said Q.J.

"Does he need one?" said Annie. "Looks like he can just win whenever he wants."

"But he can't just win," said Q.J. "That's his problem. Kiyoshi-chan's challenge put him into a no-win situation."

"How?" asked Owen Greatheart.

"Just think about it," said Q.J. "He's humiliated if he wins, he's humiliated if he loses. He's been embarrassed as a samurai, dishonored, unless he handles this right. And there's only one way to handle it right."