White Crane Read Free

tabletop.
    “Whoosh.” She blows hard, and our origami animals topple over. The White Crane lies on its back, legs in the air.
    Sensei takes his place at the head of the table. “The Dragon’s breath is nothing but hot air. And it smells like dead goldfish,” he says.
    “I’m more worried about the Dragon’s feet,” admits Taji. “Cockroaches can get stomped.”
    Closing his eyes, Sensei rocks from side to side.
    A story is coming. The White Crane folds its wings to listen.
    “This is the last Dragon story I will tell you. Listen and you will never be afraid again. Many years ago, in the early mists of the mountain, the dragon Ryujin went walking. A dragon has scales of steel, but its feet are soft. It trod on a thorn. The great creature roared in pain. Huge claws could not remove something so small.
    “Wind carried Ryujin’s cries deep into the earth, but the other animals closed their ears. No one wanted to help the cruel, boastful dragon. Only Gokiburi, the cockroach, came to help. The cockroach was kind and wise.
    “‘I will help you because no creature is so great it stands alone. Even a proud dragon must sometimes bend before a cockroach,’ it said.
    “The dragon bowed, and the cockroach removed the thorn. So you see, Little Cockroaches, when the time comes, you will find power over the dragon. Bad breath and big feet are not to be feared.”
    Taking the last square of paper, Sensei folds a cockroach. It’s very difficult. Even Kyoko can’t do it.
    “More practice! Train hard!” Sensei strides from the room.
    Taji grins. “I bet they don’t tell that story at the Dragon Ryu.”
    “I’d love to beat them, just once,” says Yoshi. “Even if it was only at calligraphy. Or origami.”
    “We can do it at sword fighting! I know we can. Let’s go practice.” Mikko waves his weapon in the air.
    I’m not so sure we can win, but I’m going to try harder than ever.
    In the training ring, it’s Taji’s turn to fight me. Taji bends his leg up. Yoshi places a blindfold over my eyes. All I can see is blue silk. All I can hear is my friends’ playful laughter.

    Around and around we circle, poking and stabbing at air. I leap forward. I can’t find Taji anywhere. Taji’s skilled ears have no trouble tracking my clumsy moves, but it doesn’t matter if he knows where I am or not. He can’t reach me from where he has fallen rump first in the dirt.
    “No one wins,” announces Kyoko.
    The ground shakes.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
We all land in the dust. The Tateyama are fire-breathing mountains.
    “The dragon laughs at us,” says Mikko, looking up as if he expects fire and ash to rain down.
    I sneak a look, too. Just in case he’s right.
    “No. The dragon is afraid,” Sensei instructs from under the cherry tree. “When I was first old, the mountain erupted with fire. Many people thought I was dead.”
    They still do, I think with a smile.
    Sensei looks at me, and his too-bright blue eyes sparkle in the sun. “Cockroaches are small, but they are very hard to kill,” he says.

Boom, boom!
The sound of Sensei’s drum echoes into the valley. It reaches every corner of the
ryu
and crashes into the garden where Yoshi, Mikko, Kyoko, and I are planting
dokudami
herb. We work quickly, with clothespins on our noses.
Dokudami
stinks like rotten fish heads.
    Sensei uses the herb to make medicinal wine, which he trades for supplies at the village in the valley.
    “Magic always smells fishy in the noses of men,” our wizard master says, inhaling from the bottle.
    Sensei’s thin hooked nose is filled with thick noodle balls of white nostril hair. The smell doesn’t bother him at all!
    Once, when I ate so much honey pudding my stomach wanted to explode, Sensei gave me a small glass of his wine.
Ye-ech!
I didn’t even need to drink it. One fish-laden sniff and I forgot I had a stomach.
    Taji isn’t gardening. Even though he can’t see, he’s chasing chickens to sharpen his wrestling reflexes.
Cluck-tuk!
The