by Danika HallNinja-bread Man
I admired my tray of ginger-bread men. Only one was a bit wonky: the last one I’d cut from the scraps of the dough. His left leg was short and his right arm twisted at a funny angle.
Mum was pleased because I’d worked independently. I’d followed the recipe and already filled the sink to wash up.
I carefully picked up the tray with my hand-mitt and opened the oven door. The hot air gushed out as I slid the tray onto the rack. I was closing the oven door when a small voice startled me.
‘Block and shield
as fast as you can.
You can’t cook me,
I’m the Ninja-bread Man.’
I spun around thinking my little brother was playing a joke, but the sound came from the oven. I peeked in. The wonky ginger-bread man was missing! I opened the door wide to see if he’d slipped off the tray. I saw something but it moved too fast to be sure: a brown blur.
A missile flew into my eye. I wiped it out with my finger. It was a tiny, star-shaped piece of cookie dough. Weird!
‘Where did you go, Wonky?’ I asked.
‘I’ll kick and punch,
I have a plan.
You can’t catch me,
I’m the Ninja-bread Man.’
Before I knew what was happening, the wonky gingerbread man flew out of the oven. He somersaulted through the air and landed on the bench in a crouched combat pose.
‘That’s amazing!’ I grabbed a plastic container. I had to catch him or my friends would never believe me.
‘I won’t cook you. You’re too special,’ I promised.
‘I’ll defend my honour,
so fight if you can.
You won’t trap me,
I’m the Ninja-bread Man.’
He wielded the rolling pin, spinning it over his head, and then let it fly.
CLONK! The rolling pin hit my shoulder.
‘Ouch! That really hurt.’
The Ninja-bread Man didn’t care. He hurled flour from the open packet on the bench. Some got on my hair and in my eyes.
‘Stop!’ I shouted.
He made for the eggs. I beat him to the carton and snapped down the lid.
‘No you don’t!’ I lurched at him with the container, like I was trying to catch a spider, but he was more dangerous than a spider.
‘Duck and roll,
search and scan.
I’ll make my escape,
I’m the Ninja-bread Man.’
He cartwheeled along the bench and leapt towards the open window above the sink. His triple somersault was impressive but he misjudged the landing. He plunged into the sink full of washing up water.
I stood back. There were knives in the water and that Ninja-bread Man was unpredictable. After a few minutes of silence I peered into the sink. There was no sign of him, just bits of disintegrating cookie dough floating amongst the bubbles.
‘What a mess,’ Mum said, walking into the kitchen.
‘I tried my best.
I’ll clean what I can.
Don’t blame me…
it was the Ninja-bread Man.’
Danika Hall loves to write fiction for middle readers aged 8 – 12 years. She has experience in academic and promotional writing and has worked in marketing communications for over 20 years. To find out more visit Danika's website.
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