As you might imagine by now after reading this week’s stories, I got more than my fair share of teasing from the other kids in my neighborhood. I was a weird and brainy kid who wasn’t any good at sports or fighting, which made me an easy target for those that were. As for parties and get-togethers, let’s just say it it easier to count the ones I was invited to than all the ones I wasn’t.

Late one Friday evening I received a phone call from my next door neighbor, inviting me to an impromptu penny ante poker game. Thrilled to be included, I grabbed my change cup, told my parents where I was going, and headed out the door.

Now between my house and my next door neighbor’s house was a dark, empty, half-acre lot — and I had to cross it. With no street lights nearby, the lot was a half acre of darkness.

What happened next unfolded so quickly that it took me a while to piece everything together. I was walking quickly across that dark lot, cup full of pennies in hand, when directly in front of me a six-foot-tall ninja sprang out of the ground right in front of me. I thought I was dead. In reality it had been my neighbor’s older brother, who had been lying flat on the ground in the darkness, waiting for me. My pennies flew into the air and I ran for my life as fast as I could, screaming at the top of my lungs along the way.

The ninja had no trouble catching me. “It’s me! It’s Greg!” he shouted. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. Greg wrapped his arms around me but I continued fighting until what had just happened finally registered. When the message finally got through, I stopped running and just started crying.

Of course, all the other kids thought it was hilarious. The whole thing had been a setup. In fact, there wasn’t even a poker game; the neighborhood kids had all been standing outside on the neighbor’s front porch to get a good view of the whole thing. (Sad trumpet noise here.)

I guess I should go back and see if any of my pennies are still out there.

I have several other ninja-related memories, but none of them are complete stories. There was the time Jason, Jeremy and I filmed a ninja movie in my backyard. Our one special effect involved placing my small trampoline near our fence, covering it with leaves, and using it to magically “leap” over the fence. Then there was the time I breathed in instead of out while holding my blowgun and almost knocked out my own teeth (and very nearly choked on a dart). And then there were the nights we would spend the night in my neighbors back garage only to be attacked by his brother and his friends in their ninja suits. My neighborhood was overflowing with ninjas, at least for a couple of years.

Shortly after the lot incident, but not because of it, my interest in all-things-ninja quietly faded. Fads come and go, and before long ninjas were out and skateboarding was in. I sold my swords and throwing stars to one of the neighborhood kids and, along with some birthday money, bought an expensive skateboard. I still have a large collection of fairly bad chop-socky ninja movies and Shinobi and The Last Ninja are a couple of my favorite games, but as for dressing up in black and sneaking around the neighborhood …those days are over.