It is 1988 and I am in Japan with Mr. Hayes. We have already seen and done much, enough for a later tale or two. The sun is warm on my face and the day is one of those that just seems to breathe life into me. We are somewhere in ancient Japan, I don’t know where. There is a small museum, an outdoor training area and an obstacle course. The small buildings scattered about create the feel of a hidden ninja village. I suck at the obstacle course, but there are two Japanese men in ninja garb that seem quite skilled at traversing it.
I am enjoying a reflective moment when I my attention is drawn to the steps of a small building where Mr. Hayes is standing with a mischevious smile. He raises his eyebrows, opens the door and disappears into the building. I have no idea what is happening but I sense an adventure, and though I am not quite sure if I am invited, I jump in to follow him. I am immediately swallowed by absolute darkness and my first instinct is to feel for a light switch in a building that has no electricity. Sigh… As I consider the merit of that action, I hear Mr. Hayes tell me to stay close and keep up! I’m thinking, “What?!…It’s pitch dark in here! Are we going somewhere?” I feel him move off in a forward direction, and even though I am completely blind, I take off after him because I figure he must know where he’s going, right? After a couple steps, I run into a wall. No Mr. Hayes. I am not picking up on this quickly. My guide is gone but I hear, “be quiet” off to my left and attempt to make my way toward it. Wary of running into another wall, I arrive just in time to feel a slight breeze from Mr. Hayes as he moves through an opening. I just manage to slip in behind him as the door slides down from above, nearly catching me in the movement. I find out later that the door is opened by lifting it from a small notch near the floor. How Mr. Hayes found it, he isn’t telling. It is about now that I realize I am in some kind of carnival-type ninja house: a maze. I know it seems like I catch on slowly, but in my own defense, only about 7 seconds have passed since entering this nightmare. It occurs to me that if I lose Mr. Hayes, I might very well be lost in here for the rest of my life – part of a bad Stephen King novel. My concern is real enough that I decide to actually keep my hands on him at all times. It is still utterly black inside.
The whole experience has a dizzying effect. The ancient ninja would sometimes build secret hiding places and escape routes into their homes in case of invasion. I am experiencing first-hand how formidable that can be. Even with my hands on him at all times, I am having considerable difficulty keeping up with my teacher. At one place, we need to lay flat on the floor and roll through a hinged board at the bottom of the wall. The doors are all rigged in some odd way. Passageways are trapped. Move too fast and your head or shin may crack into some obstacle. And yet, Mr. Hayes is racing through this with reckless abandon. I wish to note that, after his initial admonishments about keeping up and being quiet, he has offered no direction or help. No, “Hey, John, watch out for this.” No, “I am turning right here and if you go left you will die.” None of that. Perhaps he felt that having my hands on him the whole time was enough assistance. I don’t know.
At long last, I follow him through an invisible door into blinding, but most welcome, sunlight. He grins wickedly at me and goes off to do something else. I decide not to follow.
