I was sitting in the student union the other day waiting for class to start when I smelled something. I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was definitely distinct. And, it was getting closer. Slowly but surely, it was getting closer. I glanced at my watch. It was 4:15. My class started at 4:30. The smell grew closer. I jumped and turned.
It was my Japanese friend Tomomi. In her hand was a coffee.
“Kawai kuma!” she yelled. “I trying to scare you!”
“I could smell your coffee,” I replied. “If you are going to try to sneak up on a fat guy, don’t carry any food with you. We can smell that stuff coming from a mile away.”
“Watashi wa kide Nihonjin,” she said.
I started laughing. “Who has been filling your head with those lies?”
“Danny.”
“I’m going to have to have a talk with that boy,” I sighed. “Anata wa kawaii Nihjonjin, maybe.”
She had a perturbed look on her face. “What are you doing, Marui Kuma?”
“Oh,” I said as I returned to my seat. “Just getting some reading done before class starts.” I pulled out my book American Terrorist, the biography of Timothy McVeigh.
“So scary!” she said as she took a seat.
“Yeah, it’s somewhat interesting. I prefer C. S. Lewis, though.”
“You are interesting character for sure.”
I heard a slam and noticed a broom hitting the table in front of me. I turned my head to see Thaddeus, the student union custodian, standing behind me. He had slammed his broom against the table in an effort to frighten me.
“Hey Thaddeus,” I said. “This is my friend Tomomi.”
“Ah, going after some of that East Asian cuisine, eh Josh?” Thaddeus said as he turned to Tomomi. “You see this,” he held up his broom to Tomomi, “this is how you will make your money one day if you don’t pay attention in class now!”
She stuck her fist in the air and muttered, “Yosi! I will study!”
“All you need is robot boots and blue hair. Hey Josh, I got a joke for you,” Thaddeus said as he raise his arms. One of his fists was clenched; the other was pointing his index finger at me.
“Not now, Thaddeus.”
“Okay, but remember what I said,” he replied as he walked away, holding his broom high in the air.
“Don’t pay attention to him,” I said to Tomomi. “He says some odd things sometimes.”
“I will study! Study, study, study, study, study!”
“And take pictures?”
“Wha . . . . ???? Ah! Japanese camera!” she shouted as she pulled out her digital camera. “I always take picture!”
“I know.”
And, it was at that precise moment that the adventure began.
As she pointed her camera at me, and I began to smile, a dark figure sitting across the student union began to scream. As I turned my head to look, a man with shoulder length black hair stood and was running across the union in our direction. As he jumped tabled and dodged innocent by-standers, I noticed his outfit. He was wearing dark blue slacks with black shoes, a black t-shirt with pocket on his right breast, and a jacket resembling the American flag. As he ran, jumped, and dodged, he was reciting the Pledge of Allegiance.
Doing a back-flip, he grabbed a salt shaker from one of the tables and, in one motion, threw it at Tomomi, causing her to drop her camera.
“Camera!” she shouted.
“Islamist!” he yelled.
“Japanese!” she replied.
He landed on his feet in front of us.
“I’m Johnny America,” he said. “And I can see it in your eyes that you hate America.”
“Dude, get out of here,” I told him.
He looked into my eyes. “No. You love America. You are the J-Mann. Trust me.”
He then looked back at Tomomi.
“I’ve been searching long and hard for you.”
“Watashi wa Japanese . . .Nihonjin! Kawaii! Kawaii!!!!!”
“You are not Japanese!” he yelled as he grabbed her hair and pointed towards the door. “SHE’S JAPANESE!”
I followed his index finger towards the door. There, to my amazement, stood Tomomi.
He grabbed her nose and began to pull. Again, to my astonishment, it came off. He grabbed her ears and pulled at them too. They also came off. After several more maneuvers my Johnny America, her entire face was gone. In its place was a middle aged, bearded man.
“J-Mann,” America said, “this is Abu Jihadist. Taliburtin’s number two aid. He’s been on the lamb for three years, and I’ve tracked him through the jungles of Africa, the deserts of Arabia, the mountains of China, the frozen forests of Alaska, and I’ve caught him in the swamps of Louisiana, thanks to your help.”
“What, how did I help?”
“Both he and I have been reading your website. He realized you were a threat to his kind. His goal was to kill you. That’s not a camera he had there. It’s a bomb.”
“Well, um, I’m glad I could help.”
“You, my friend, you are a good American,” he said as he carried Abu towards the door.
I watched as Johnny America left the building. I felt something swell up within me. I was proud of my country and my heritage. I felt the urge to sing a patriotic song, to hang a flag from my window, and, most importantly, to keep up the fight. I knew then that I was making a difference in the World’s Stage. Even if it was just from my computer, thousand of miles away from any war or violence, I knew I was touching the hearts and minds of millions of viewers and readers. I was playing my part in this great country, even if it was just a small one.
“God bless America!” I shouted. “And God bless the United States!”
*Thanks to Nick Comeaux for permission to use Johnny America.