Jason Striker Volume 2: The Bamboo Bloodbath and Ninja's Revenge by Piers Anthony & Roberto Fuentes

Author:Piers Anthony & Roberto Fuentes [Anthony, Piers & Fuentes, Roberto]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781401033514
Publisher: Xlibris, Corp.
Published: 2001-12-03T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 1:

HIROSHI

The little man entered the post office and looked about. He was in his sixties, Oriental, with a small wispy white beard and scraggly white locks blowing about his head. He wore a hakama, a Japanese pleated black cotton skirt that reached down to his ankles, and a kind of white blouse, along with wooden sandals that were elevated on cleats. This was a common garb in his own country, and seemed out of place in America only because of his advanced age.

He carried an envelope in his hand. He looked about, then spied the window for stamps. He smiled, and went to stand at the rear of the line.

In a moment a woman joined the line behind him. She glanced over his shoulder, for she was taller than he. He stood barely over five feet tall, and massed a hundred pounds. "Say, mister," she said. Her voice had the city twang, able to penetrate the constant noise pollution.

He turned to face her. "Hiroshi, Japan. A pleasure to meet you." He made a little bow.

220

Disgruntled by this unexpected courtesy, she pointed to his envelope. "You can't mail that. You forgot the zip code."

Hiroshi's brow furrowed. "Zip code? This is a letter from Mr.

Diago, who is staying in Japan, to his cousin Mr. Drummond in America. I can carry it only this far, as I have other business. I believe the address is correct."

"I guess they don't have the zip code where you come from,"

she said. "It's a number you put on the end of the address. Nobody pays any attention to it, and it slows down the mail, but the P0 gets pretty sticky if you don't put it on. You better look it up.

There's a zip-code guide over there." She pointed to a table across the room. "Go ahead. I'll save your place."

Hiroshi bowed again. "Thank you most kindly, lovely lady."

He walked to the table, leaving her flustered with pleasure, for she was stout and fortyish.

A large man of about fifty joined the line. He was overweight but still muscular under his overalls, with a hard hat and lunch pail, a tough blue-collar worker. He smoked a vile-smelling cigar, in plain violation of the NO SMOKING sign. "Come on, move it along," he muttered impatiently at no one in particular. "I don't have all day."

Hiroshi returned. "The omission has been corrected," he said, showing the envelope to the woman as he took his place in line.

"No, please stand ahead. I have time."

She nodded, and he stepped behind her.

"Hey, what is this?" the big man demanded. "Line forms to the rear!" He puffed angrily on his cigar.

The woman turned. "It's all right. He-"

"Don't tell me it's all right!" the man exclaimed. "No goddamn Jap cuts in front of me!"

Hiroshi bowed to him. "I shall move back."

"You yellow bastards think you won the war!" the man bellowed, so that the whole post office could hear. "You think you can shove in anywhere! Well, I have news for you!" He blew a cloud of smoke down into Hiroshi's face.

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