At 9 pm sharp, there was a loud fanfare, the curtain rose and in danced Ning in his Ninja costume. Having seen his act before, I was prepared for all the surprises but poor Head Nun sat transfixed in horror as Ning rolled, jumped and somersaulted. At one stage, she even covered her eyes in fear! The crowd cheered and roared with laughter and continued clapping even after the curtain had dropped. Ning was a hit and both Head Nun and I felt so proud of him!
On the way back to the temple, Head Nun was lost in thought. Finally, she spoke. "You know, having seen Ning's act, I can't help but worry for him. He's going to hurt himself one day, mark my words."
"You're right, Head Nun," I replied. "I never thought of that before. But he's enjoying his new found stardom and he won't give it up that easy!"
"Yes," said Head Nun. "Well, there's really nothing we can do but wish him luck."
We hardly saw Ning after he began performing at the Club. His shows had been re-scheduled to 11 pm which was much too late for us to go and watch him.
I was sitting outside the temple one evening about a week later when I saw the Siamese cat who was one of the judges at Ning's audition, pass by. I called to her and asked how Ning was doing. She looked a little surprised, then said, "Didn't you hear? Ning broke a leg a few days ago and we had no choice but to let him go."
I was stunned, if not horrified. I ran back to the temple to inform Head Nun and together we went in search of Ning. We found him lying under an ixora bush in his hideout.
"Ning! Ning! Wake up, are you alright?" I yelled frantically for he looked like he was dead. His body was covered in bruises and one of his legs was hideously swollen.
To our relief, Ning woke up at the sound of my voice. "Oh, it's you. I'm ok, goodbye." With that he went back to sleep.
"No, you're not ok," said Head Nun and she gently lifted him and carried him back to the temple. We called the vet and for three weeks, Head Nun nursed Ning until he could walk again.
Poor Ning! What a price to pay for a week of fame and stardom. As I sat with him one evening after he had recovered, he said gloomily, "You know, Da, they loved me! They kept asking for more! If I hadn't slipped that night, I would be rich today and on my way to Paris! " He cursed and swore and kicked a nearby stone.
I didn't have any advice to offer him except that he should be thankful he's alive - and kicking - today.
He laughed, patted my shoulder and said, "You're a good friend, Da. See yuh." With that, he got up and walked away.
We didn't see Ning at the temple for a few weeks after that. I was worried sick that he might do something silly like hanging himself or jumping into a river. I was even more worried when I couldn't find him at his hideout.
One morning after a restless night, I woke up to see someone standing by my basket.
"Hey, you lazy kid. It's already nine, time to get up!"
It was my pal, Ning. We had breakfast together and it was just like the good, old times again.
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