Opening Narration (as would be voiced by Rod Serling):"Portrait of a man in a park, nondescript and anonymous. Thinner than most, but not gaunt, a man of average height and average features. A man who wears his tan lines like medals, but hides them under jeans and a collared shirt. A man whose eager anticipation of summer dates back to last fall. A self-proclaimed athlete, a self-proclaimed hard-man. A man relaxing in the heat, alone on a park bench. Not just any man, though; a man they call the Ninja."
The Ninja's quiet evening reverie is interrupted by the heavy thud of a bottom on the bench. He opens his eyes and looks over at his new bench-mate.
Sitting next to the the Ninja is a young man, whose cotton t-shirt suggests affiliation with the local University. The Student is sweating, beads rolling down his arms and shins and flushed face. His shirt clings to the rolls of his slouched frame, and he smiles wearily. He sighs, still staring across the park.
"Hot today, isn't it?" and the inflection is somewhere between rhetorical and exclamatory. The Ninja nods. "They say it's a heat wave," the Student goes on, "like, record setting or something".
The Ninja replies, "yeah, that's what they say".
For the first time, the Student looks over at the Ninja, looks him up and down, and he seems taken aback. "Say, aren't you dying in those clothes? Like, isn't it too hot out for jeans?"
The Ninja considers the question for a moment. "Well I suppose it is".
The Student looks pleased at the common ground he's established. Misery loves company. "Don't you just hate this weather?"
"Not at all," says the Ninja, and the Student's eyes widen again.
"I don't mind the winter, and fall and spring are okay, but I love the summer," the Ninja continues.
"But in the cold, you can keep adding layers until you're comfortable. You can only take so much off in the summer!" As if the Ninja hadn't heard that before.
"That works to a point, I guess. But the cold hurts, you know? It pierces you to the very bone. It stings at your skin and squeezes your fingers and toes. It slaps you across the face and calls you 'bitch'. No, give me the heat any day. Weather like this just wraps you in a blanket, it presses you a bit and makes you uncomfortable at worst. How bad does it ever get around here, anyway?"
"But there's a heat advisory!"
"Heat advisory, shmeat advisory. You just have to get used to it. Pace yourself, right? Drink plenty of water, too. It gets to where it actually feels good! I'm not even going to use an air conditioner this week"
"How's that?!" the Student seems horrified.
"It'll save me some money," the Ninja rations, "and it'll get me acclimatized. The heat wave will end eventually, you know."
The Student fans himself with his cap. He says nothing, shakes his head, staring at nothing in particular.
The Ninja stands, cracking first one knee, then the next. He twists his back, creating a symphony of cracking vertebrae, then rolls his shoulders to the sound of two deep pops. "I should get going," he says offhandedly, out of common courtesy more than anything else, "take 'er easy". The Student barely acknowledges, so dazedly is he leering at the far side of the park.
With a spring in his step, the Ninja walks through the park. He crosses paths with a jogger, whose shuffling gait betrays her suffering in the wilting heat, and nods knowingly.
He makes his way home. Each stride is a little shorter, each minute finds more sweat beading at his brow. He undoes another button at his collar, then another. Sweat is pooling at the small of his back, and his jeans cling to his skin.
He arrives home and his shirt is completely unbuttoned. He strips down to shorts, then sits on his couch with a heavy thud. He stares off into space, loses track of how long he's been sitting there. He sets an alarm clock and tries to sleep.
The hours go by, and as he sweats through the sheets, sleep does not come. Slowly he shuffles to the sink, splashes his face with cold water. A hollow-eyed, haggard face blinks back at him in the mirror.
After another moment, he sighs, frowning, and descends the staircase to the basement, where he removes an air conditioner from storage. He grunts his way upstairs, maneuvers the machine into the window, and turns it on. As cool air rushes out of the vents, he collapses to the bed, still frowning, and falls asleep.
Closing narration:"Portrait of a man in his home, finally cooled. Certain of his weakness, shamed by his surrender, loathsome of his pleasure. A self-proclaimed hypocrite. A man whose only failure is measured by a metric that he himself has defined, arbitrarily and impetuously. A man, a Ninja, a fool... but a comfortable fool at last."
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