much like thugs. I just got a bad feeling about them.”
“Then go with your gut. I hope you and Davica can work it out.”
“Huh? Oh shit, someone’s there, right?”
“Bingo. I gotta go, man.”
“Okay. I wanted to give you the heads-up.”
“Gotcha. Later, man.” I hung up.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. It’s this friend of mine. He got girl problems.”
She smiled. “That’s cute that he calls you for advice.”
“He trifling, that’s what. He always got drama going on.”
“I got friends like that too.” She yawned. I knew what that was. It was the dismissal bell.
I took a deep breath, staring into that pretty face. This thing between us was really something. And if we didn’t do nothing about it tonight, it was definitely gonna be there tomorrow.
THE CODE OF THE WARRIOR
B y mid-October, I was finding my groove. It was mad hard not cutting class, but I knew the second I slipped up, I’d get kicked out.
It didn’t hurt that I had Alyse to hang with. She was so cute, I did homework so that I could be with her. Sometimes I even studied for tests, just to see if I could get a better mark than her.
And sometimes class was kinda interesting too.
Like Global History. Boring, right?
Today was different.
Mr. Guzman was looking down at his notes, rubbing his hands together. When the bell rang, his head snapped up. “Good morning!I’m going to start us off with a question that relates to our new unit. What are the qualities of a great warrior?”
I raised my hand. “He’s physically and mentally strong. He can lead an army or take orders if he’s got to. He ain’t afraid of nothing.”
“What about his mind-set going into battle? What should it be?”
Justin answered, “He should be calm.”
“He gotta keep his eye on his goal and nothing else,” I added.
“Well, have any of you heard of samurai warriors?” Mr. Guzman asked.
Someone called out, “Yeah, they those guys in black who do karate.”
“You might be talking about ninjas, but the idea isn’t dissimilar.” Mr. Guzman wrote on the board, Bushido: the Way of the Warrior. “Bushido is the code of conduct of the samurai warrior. In medieval Europe, the knights also had a code. It was called chivalry. But in Japan, Bushido was different. In Bushido, you trained all your life for battle, and when you went into battle, you went in seeking to die.”
“That’s stupid,” Richard said. “If you go in thinking you gonna die, then you’ll die for sure.”
“The idea is that if you don’t fear death—and in fact, expectand welcome it—you will be a better soldier,” Mr. Guzman said. “A killing machine.”
Alyse said, “I guess they thought that since they were going to die, anyway, they might as well do it bravely, and take down as many enemies as they could.”
“But what’s the point in being a hero if you dead?” Kristina asked. “Sorry, but that don’t make sense.”
“Maybe they promised the samurais forty virgins when they die,” Todd said. “Like those terrorists.”
Mr. Guzman said, “It could be they were promised rewards in the afterlife. Or perhaps death itself was their honor.”
“It’s like those kamikaze pilots during World War Two,” Alyse said. “Or the 9/11 hijackers.”
“This is wack, if you ask me,” I said. “Those samurais should’ve stood up for themselves. It’s stupid to give up your life just because your leader tells you to. Most leaders stay safe while they send their men to die.”
Alyse nodded. “Like President Bush sending soldiers into Iraq.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s called Bush -ido,” I said.
Everybody laughed, even Mr. Guzman.
From there, the class went on about life in early Japan, feudalism, and all that. Mr. Guzman always hooked us in with something interesting, then switched over to what he really wanted to teach.
I couldn’t concentrate on the rest of the lesson because my mind kept going back to Bushido, the way of the
“Then go with your gut. I hope you and Davica can work it out.”
“Huh? Oh shit, someone’s there, right?”
“Bingo. I gotta go, man.”
“Okay. I wanted to give you the heads-up.”
“Gotcha. Later, man.” I hung up.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yeah. It’s this friend of mine. He got girl problems.”
She smiled. “That’s cute that he calls you for advice.”
“He trifling, that’s what. He always got drama going on.”
“I got friends like that too.” She yawned. I knew what that was. It was the dismissal bell.
I took a deep breath, staring into that pretty face. This thing between us was really something. And if we didn’t do nothing about it tonight, it was definitely gonna be there tomorrow.
THE CODE OF THE WARRIOR
B y mid-October, I was finding my groove. It was mad hard not cutting class, but I knew the second I slipped up, I’d get kicked out.
It didn’t hurt that I had Alyse to hang with. She was so cute, I did homework so that I could be with her. Sometimes I even studied for tests, just to see if I could get a better mark than her.
And sometimes class was kinda interesting too.
Like Global History. Boring, right?
Today was different.
Mr. Guzman was looking down at his notes, rubbing his hands together. When the bell rang, his head snapped up. “Good morning!I’m going to start us off with a question that relates to our new unit. What are the qualities of a great warrior?”
I raised my hand. “He’s physically and mentally strong. He can lead an army or take orders if he’s got to. He ain’t afraid of nothing.”
“What about his mind-set going into battle? What should it be?”
Justin answered, “He should be calm.”
“He gotta keep his eye on his goal and nothing else,” I added.
“Well, have any of you heard of samurai warriors?” Mr. Guzman asked.
Someone called out, “Yeah, they those guys in black who do karate.”
“You might be talking about ninjas, but the idea isn’t dissimilar.” Mr. Guzman wrote on the board, Bushido: the Way of the Warrior. “Bushido is the code of conduct of the samurai warrior. In medieval Europe, the knights also had a code. It was called chivalry. But in Japan, Bushido was different. In Bushido, you trained all your life for battle, and when you went into battle, you went in seeking to die.”
“That’s stupid,” Richard said. “If you go in thinking you gonna die, then you’ll die for sure.”
“The idea is that if you don’t fear death—and in fact, expectand welcome it—you will be a better soldier,” Mr. Guzman said. “A killing machine.”
Alyse said, “I guess they thought that since they were going to die, anyway, they might as well do it bravely, and take down as many enemies as they could.”
“But what’s the point in being a hero if you dead?” Kristina asked. “Sorry, but that don’t make sense.”
“Maybe they promised the samurais forty virgins when they die,” Todd said. “Like those terrorists.”
Mr. Guzman said, “It could be they were promised rewards in the afterlife. Or perhaps death itself was their honor.”
“It’s like those kamikaze pilots during World War Two,” Alyse said. “Or the 9/11 hijackers.”
“This is wack, if you ask me,” I said. “Those samurais should’ve stood up for themselves. It’s stupid to give up your life just because your leader tells you to. Most leaders stay safe while they send their men to die.”
Alyse nodded. “Like President Bush sending soldiers into Iraq.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s called Bush -ido,” I said.
Everybody laughed, even Mr. Guzman.
From there, the class went on about life in early Japan, feudalism, and all that. Mr. Guzman always hooked us in with something interesting, then switched over to what he really wanted to teach.
I couldn’t concentrate on the rest of the lesson because my mind kept going back to Bushido, the way of the
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