top of page

The Cheek Spreader

By Dylan Smith

                                                    CHAPTER 1

        What was that? I sit up in my bed a little disoriented from having been suddenly awoke. I could have sworn that I heard something. I look around my room. My bed is slightly elevated on bamboo stilts facing the door so I can see everything. Thump thump thump thump. More of those sounds coming from the ceiling.

        I get up and reach under my bed to grab my wooden practice katana. Father had me doing daily martial training sessions with his sensei since I was a child. I peak out my window overlooking our garden. Something is wrong.  I turn around and begin to approach my door when suddenly my father bursts in,

“We have to go” he says in a loud hush, “follow me and stay low.” Even though the toll of getting old has had its effects on my father, he is still regarded as a capable warrior, perhaps the best in the machi. He is wearing his kimono but managed to tuck the lower half into combat pants in a hurry. His slightly graying hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail. He takes me out into the hallway and we make our way toward the stairs to the middle floor. “Stay close to the walls, we need to get to the safe room.”

        He leads me down to the middle floor only pausing briefly to check around corners. What is going on?  My father turns around and looks down at me.

        “Keep your eyes peeled, son, we are not alone tonight. The airs stir and the shadows lurk in the darkest hour of the night.”

        We go down the stairs and get to the large ornate door to the safe room. Father approaches the door and a nin-jo jumps out and tries to attack him using the element of surprise. Big mistake. Father blocks the first three strikes, then pins the bandit’s left arm under his left armpit. He then plants three rapid strikes on his chest. The nin-jo stumbles back, spasming while upright, and then father cross-kicks him sending him through the door of the  safe room knocking over two of the three nin-jagos who were inside. One of them charges me. He is so fast and is not making a sound as he moves. Breathe. I side step to the right, side dodging his quick punch, and I jab him in the ribs as I pass by. He turns around and kicks at my legs. I let it hit my shin and I use that leg to force his stance to open up. I now have a perfect attacking window. One, two, three. I hit him with three blindingly fast chops to his solar plexis. He drops to the ground spasming, making a horrible wheezing sound.

        I look over at my father. He has already beaten one of the other two and was finishing off the last. Father deflects a wide left hook punch and moves under the throw and plants a devastating punch to the nin-jo’s kidney. He then grabs him by the throat with his left hand, picks him up and slams him into the ground. Discipline. My father moved with the type of brutality you would expect from a man who has spent most of his life training in the ways of the elements. A man who has seen death and given it. He stands up and looks over at me. “You broken?” I tell him I am fine. We continue into the safe room where in the back planted in the wall is a tall skinny rock. The rock is smooth as glass with no markings on it. Father approaches the stone and whispers something I cannot hear and the face of the rock slides to the left, revealing a hidden compartment. My father reaches inside and when he pulls his hand out, he is holding two golden wrist braces with etchings in the side. He puts them on and throws his hands to the side. The bracelets start to glow an alternating dark green and blood red color. He takes a deep breath and comes over to me.

        “Son, my blood enemy has come to kill me. He has been after me for many years now.” I can see that he is very distressed. “I am afraid that he might get what he wants after all these years, I need you to be brave. One day you will bear a responsibility bigger than your own life. When this time comes, remember this moment.” When he says this, he turns toward the door where an armored nin-jor steps in. Nin-jors were more elite than nin-jo and were said to have enhanced abilities from alchemy and brutal torture. As he walks, his large plate shoots steam out the joints. He draws a large dragon-steel katana and holds it in two hands in front of him. Father holds his arm out in front of me, “Stay away, I can take care of this.” Father approaches the armored nin-jor. “I know who sent you, but did he tell you why he sent you?” The nin-jor says nothing and gets into a battle stance, holding his large blade over his head. Father puts his fist in front of him, “He sent you to die.” Father rushes and blocks the first strike off of his left bracelet, shooting red sparks into the air. He uses this window to punch with his right fist. But it is so much faster than normal. The strike was so fast I couldn’t even tell what happened. One second there was a fully armored legendary nin-jor in front of me. Now all that is left is my father. I look down the hall through the open door and see the enemy at the end of the hall stuck in the wall on the far end, lifeless.

        I knew my father was a capable fighter, but this is something new altogether. My father is a weapon. There is no man who can face him, a man of limitless power. A man I admire and strive to be like. We run into the courtyard and it’s completely empty. It’s raining. My father stops in the middle and pauses to look around. “Something is wrong. We are being watched.” When he says this, a man walks out of the shadows on the opposite side of the large courtyard. He starts to slow clap. “My blood enemy, oh how long I have waited for this moment. You always knew that this would happen didn’t you?” My father looks back at me with a look of determination. “Run from here, I will be fine.” He turns back to the new mystery man. “I did. I always knew you would come for me. That is why I have been training to stop you. Kill you.” The other man steps into the light. Oh dear god….father….what is this? The man has to be the ugliest person I have ever seen. He barely looks human at all. He is so ugly I almost vomit. My father does not turn toward me, but says one name. “Jorbin.” Jorbin steps forward. “Booby Butt.”

        My father was not named Booby Butt the cheek spreader for no reason. Jorbin does not stand a chance. My father is a walking predator. And he is his prey. Jorbin says, “Let’s get this over with.” They charge each other and before I can even blink Jorbin dodges my father’s first strike and begins to lay an onslaught of punches on my father. Had to be at least 25 punches in 2 seconds. Without hesitation he throws my father 45 feet into a pillar and before I can even comprehend it, Jorbin is punching my father again just as fast as earlier. About 20 seconds go by. Father had to have endured over 200 punches. He grabs my father again and throws him into the center of the courtyard. My father slowly pushes himself up and coughs blood. “Is that all you got?” Jorbin then sprints over and kicks my father so hard he flies about 300 feet into the air. After waiting for him to come back down, he does not let him hit the ground but instead catches him by the throat. He stares over at me, and without breaking eye contact, rips off my father's arms and legs and then puts them back on. My father looks over at me. “No…..not like this….”. Jorbin begins to punch my father in the face so hard that each punch causes the back of my father's head to touch the middle of his back. After about one full minute of this, he steps back. Father falls to his knees, head down, and Jorbin kicks his head so hard it detaches from his body and goes straight up into the air. He catches it and re-attaches it to his body. Father looks over to me, “I said RUN!”

        I stand up and right as I turn to run I hear screaming from the courtyard and know that all hope of my father winning this fight is lost. Jorbin is just too powerful. I take one last look back at my father. Jorbin is hovering 3 feet in the air, spinning in circles with his legs spread straight apart in a split with each foot kicking my father in the face during each rotation of his spin. My father’s head spins around his neck like a top. Finally, Jorbin grows bored and flips father around, “SPREAD YOUR CHEEKS!” Father is facing me with a tear rolling down his cheek before Jorbin kicks him in the ass so hard that he enters orbit.

                                             END OF CHAPTER 1

bottom of page