Ninja Season

On my way to my car after work there was a throwing star on the ground. I feel like it was left there for me to find.

I feel like it was left there as a warning.

That's not right.

I feel like it was left there as a threat.

When I saw that throwing star on the ground I thought I was in one of those prescription drug commercials where some Slice of Life empty-nester gets a card in the mail saying Your Heart Attack Will Happen in Two Days. Except a throwing star means something else.

A throwing star, if happened upon, means We Have Your Brother, Come to the Pier, Alone.

I may be reading too much into this. It was, after all, a plastic throwing star. But let's face it, Halloween was a while ago.

Whoever left it there had to know that I would be taking that route today. Sometimes, if a piece of mail doesn't make it to the 2:30 pickup, I take it down to the mailbox. Going to the mailbox deviates me from my normal course. True, sometimes I backtrack to correct my course, as going to the mailbox and continuing on that vector means walking past the building with the smokers out front. If there's a horde of them I correct, if not, I hold my breath and recite the Hate Barrier spell.

So, the particular ninja who left the star knew I didn't have any mail for the mailbox today, which either means it was a lucky guess or it's an inside job.

I've been pouring over the dossiers I keep of everyone at work. I've been able to eliminate a few but the ones I have left on the table are troubling. It's hard to make sense as to why any of those people would send me that type of message.

Everyone left on the table was certainly capable, and none without their own motivation. Were they working together?

I knew better than to bend down and pick up the star. I just kept walking. But I'm not stupid enough to believe they think I didn't notice.

What a fool I've been. My guard always goes down in winter. Kung Fu movies always have blood spurting out over the snow and I've become complacent in the deadliest season.

When dealing with a ninja you have to remember that it will be your cunning that sees you through to the end of it, not any combat skills you've devoted your life to mastering. Ninjas strike in the dark, from behind.

I'm on my third cup of joe and I've only just now hung all the pictures up on the wall, pinning the strings back and forth, all the possible connections. Yellow to him, loop down to her, then back up to her. Blue bisects the green, more pins. I walk back and forth, getting away from the riddle, then slowing getting right on top of it.

I'm not sure what the next step is. I should clear my mind, finally use that bamboo mat on the floor, but I'm so angry. I cycle through calming exercises but nothing's helping. It may be the caffeine raging through my body. Or the rage, raging through my body. I've burned entire villages for less and now this.

Is my past catching up with me? Did someone grow up sucking on the teat of revenge? Unlikely, I'm a thorough mother fucker. This is new, but maybe my slate wasn't wiped quite as clean as I had hoped.

Maybe the katana just naturally makes me target. But I'm especially not going to stop carrying it now.