Unknown Victim

by Kay Hadashi

  “Definitely not in Cleveland anymore.” She splashed water on her face and arms to cool off. She took a long, deep breath of the fresh air and watched small doves pecking in the dirt. They made a peculiar cooing noise, a lonely wha-wha- hoo-hooo sound. “This is Christmas? Soaking my feet, getting sunburnt, and sweating while watching doves? I can live with this.”

  Wondering if jetlag was setting in or if she was tired from the hike, she let her eyes close. With something proper to recline on, she could’ve slept. She almost did, except a hammering sound came from across the estate grounds. Trying to figure the direction, she scanned the distance. As far as she knew, there weren’t any construction projects going, certainly not on Christmas day. After watching for a while, she saw the glint of sunlight reflecting off a pickup truck parked near where her house would be. After a few more minutes, someone went to the truck.

  “Now what?” Concerned the few things she’d brought were being stolen, she got her shoes back on. “I don’t think that was Felix. He’s supposed to be at home with his wife.”

  She hurried along a narrow trail beneath the trees until she got to a wooden bridge over the stream. Figuring it was the same bridge they’d crossed the night before, she followed the driveway to her house.

  That’s where she found an older man carrying bundles of roofing material to a ladder that leaned against the side of the house. He seemed to notice her as she walked toward him, but paid her no mind as he climbed the ladder, a bundle of shingles balanced on one shoulder.

  Gina stood at the bottom of the ladder watching the man. “May I help you?”

  He acted as though she wasn’t there when he came back down for another load of three-tab roofing shingles. The little hair he had on his head was white, and his darkly-tanned face was creviced by decades of age. Asian and not as tall as her, and wearing a tool belt around his waist, he walked bow-legged. She went with him to his truck.

  “Hi. My name’s Gina. I just moved into the house last night.” She followed him back to where he started climbing the ladder with another bundle of shingles on one shoulder. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

  When the old man stayed on the roof, Gina figured he either had enough shingles to keep him busy for a while, or had had enough of her. She hadn’t had enough answers yet, though, and when her curious police officer mind kicked in, she climbed the ladder after him.

  What she found was that palm fronds had been removed and tossed off the side of the house, exposing decking that was covered with tar paper. Several rows of shingles had already been nailed down, and the man was adding a new row, using a hammer.

  “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t have to work on Christmas, Sir.”

  That at least got a glance from him, in between nails.

  “Did Felix ask you to come work on the roof today?”

  He worked quickly, needing only three swings of his hammer to drive nails. Ignoring her questions seemed to help in his progress of covering her roof with a fresh later of shingles.

  “Seriously, Sir, it’s pretty hot up here on the roof, and you really don’t need to work on Christmas. This can wait until Monday.”

  He almost seemed annoyed when he refilled his tool belt and shirt pocket with more nails from a large box. Taking her the box of nails, he handed over a second hammer. Without speaking a word, he showed her how to line up the bottom edge of a new sheet of three-tab with the previous layer, and pointed with his finger on where to put the nails. He went so far as to put the hammer in her hand the right way. After watching her hammer a few nails, he started working on a different section of the roof.

  “If the people at home saw this, I wonder what they’d say?” Gina muttered, as she swung the hammer, giving her own thumbnail a solid whack. “Mom would be wringing her hands, Dad would smile with pride, and Ana would be laughing her butt off.”

  Chapter Five

  On the third time the man went down to his truck for more roofing material, he brought back two bottles of water, handing one over to Gina.

  “Thanks. I’m Gina. You haven’t told me your name.”

  “The roofer,” he said quietly.

  “Okay, good.” Gina wasn’t sure what to say, or do with the man. He seemed harmless enough. Not attacking her with his hammer, anyway. “I wasn’t expecting you. You’re the second visitor I’ve had this morning. Or third, I suppose. Busy place for Christmas morning.”

  “Three?”

  “A fellow named Felix dropped by with pomegranate preserves. He chased away a homeless man that had used the front porch as his bed for the night.” Gina wanted to try some humor to lighten the mood. “Three wise men visiting the inn on Christmas morning, I suppose.”

  When he went back to hammering nails, Gina gave up on making friends and returned to pounding nails, also.

  Half the house had been done by then. He emptied his bottle in a hurry, and took off his cap to wipe his brow with a handkerchief. The sun was low in the sky when they finished for the day. Once he had the ladder stowed on the ground the way he wanted, the roofer went to his truck and got in. Gina followed him there.

  “Thanks for working on Christmas. Sorry I was so slow. I’ve never done anything like that before. When are you coming back?”

  He took her hand and pressed his thumb on the blisters that had come up. He gave her another bottle of water from a cooler.

  “Get a hat.”

  With that, the man started the engine and drove off toward the little bridge over the stream.

  “Okay, I guess I have more things than plants to figure out with this job.”

  ***

  Remembering Felix’s rule to use only one burner on the stove at a time, Gina made a dinner of beans and Vienna sausage, something she found stocked in the cabinet. Wishing she had a bottle of wine to rinse away her qualms about her new job, she sent a few text messages back home, mostly to Ana. While waiting for replies, she jabbed a sewing needle into her blisters. When her phone rang with a call, it wasn’t from her sister.

  “Joey, Merry Christmas. What’s up?”

  “When are you coming home?” he asked.

  “A year from now. You already know that.”

  “Gina, just come back to me.”

  “Seriously? I’m supposed to leave a landscaper’s dream job in Hawaii and go back home to Cleveland in the middle of winter? Are you nuts?”

  “What’s wrong with a white Christmas? Kids are playing with sleds, making snowmen, building snow forts. You like that kind of thing, Gina.”

  “Hey, how’s that lake effect working for you? I heard you got a foot of snow just since yesterday, and another foot is on its way.”

  “There’s nothing so special about that place,” he said in his whiniest voice yet.

  “You haven’t been here,” she said. “Look, we’ve been over all this. I didn’t break up with you just to come here. We’re done, Joey. It was fun for a while, but it’s time for both of us to move on.”

  “You’re going to marry one of those island guys?”

  “Oh, gawd. You sound like my mother, you know that?”

  “I got a lot to offer, Gina! Just come back to me.”

  It was turning into a replay of a few nights before, the first time she tried breaking up with a guy she barely dated, and liked even less. “I’m not here to find a husband, and I’m not going home to marry you, Joey. Time to move on.”

  She couldn’t end the call fast enough. Wondering if she should turn off the phone or if her sister might still call her, she waited to hear from Ana. When the text came, Gina smiled at the thought of her little sister in a police uniform.

  Can’t talk. On my first real stakeout.

  Realizing it was after midnight back home, Gina set aside her phone in trade for a pictorial book on the trees and shrubs of the Hawaiian Islands. After reviewing that and making notes of the trees she’d found that day, she started drawing a new map of the estate. Using the color pens she’d brought with her, she was just
finishing at midnight. Setting aside everything, she went to take a shower.

  Turning the handles midway, she kept her hand in the spray while waiting for the water to turn hot. After adjusting the hot to full blast and turning the cold off, she figured she was destined to a cold shower again that night.

  “At least the pipes aren’t frozen.”

  ***

  Gina was woken in the morning with a text message from her sister. Ana was already taking a lunch break at home, mid-way through her shift.

  Make any busts? Gina asked in a return message.

  Wrote a jaywalking ticket to Mrs. Scapone. She said you’re supposed to call Joey.

  Next time you write her up, tell her to tell Joey to quit calling me!

  It was warm in the bedroom with the sun coming in through the windows. After opening the louvered windows, she went through the house opening others, along with the back door. Going to the front door last, she opened that to find someone curled up on the porch. He looked like the same man from the day before, with tousled hair, thin blue trousers, scuffed leather shoes, and the same windbreaker.

  “Not you again.” She nudged him with her toe to wake him before stepping back. She didn’t want to pick a fight; she just wanted him to go. “Time to go, bro.”

  After another nudge from her foot, he rolled over onto his back and looked up at her. His face was as much of a mess as his clothes, with wrinkles too deep for a young man. Other than dark eyes and black hair, she couldn’t tell what sort of heritage he had. At home, he would’ve been pegged as Italian without a second guess. Not saying a single word, he got up, gave her an apologetic bow, and left the porch in silence. Once he got to the little bridge, he turned to give her a wave before crossing.

  “I could’ve made the poor guy breakfast. At least given him some tea.”

  She went back in to the kitchen and started the process of making toast and boiling water. She added something to her to-do list, and that was buy a microwave oven.

  She decided on trying to make an omelet again today and got the bowl of eggs from the fridge. Assembling everything she’d need on the counter, she raised an egg over the edge of the mixing bowl, ready to crack it open.

  “Come on, you can do this.”

  She lifted her hand and swung it down. But before it got to the rim of the bowl, she stopped.

  “Not today,” she said, before quickly putting everything away again. “I clipped the Virgin Mary in the knee with a forty-five caliber slug, but I can’t crack an egg. That’s not weird at all.”

  When her meal was finally hot enough, she took it to the small back porch which faced the rising sun.

  “I could get used to this.”

  Hearing hammering on the roof, Gina went down the porch steps and looked up to where the ladder led.

  “Oh, goodie. The roofer is already here…” She checked the time on her phone. “…and it’s not even seven o’clock.” She went farther out to get a better view of what he was doing. His pickup ruck was parked in the same spot, not far from his ladder. “Good morning!”

  All she got back was a quick wave of the hand before the roofer went back to work. When she turned to go back into the house, she saw a cat trot along the driveway, going off in the direction of the stream.

  “I don’t mind having a cat hanging around, but does it have to be black?”

  After a cup of tea and a piece of toast with pomegranate jelly, Gina tied her only hat onto her head with a string under her chin and climbed the ladder to join the roofer. He’d already finished a row of shingles at one end of the roof.

  “Kinda early to work on a Saturday, isn’t it?”

  Once again, he paid her no mind and kept hammering nails into the roof. She found a stack of shingles on the other side from where he was working. With it was the same hammer from the day before, but along with that was a new tool belt, already filled with nails. Next to that was a small pair of leather work gloves. They had the name of a local hardware store stenciled on the back: Kaimuki Hardware.

  “Are these for me?” she called to him.

  He just kept hammering nails.

  After putting the tool belt around her waist and cinching it tight, she put on the gloves, grabbed her hammer, lined up a piece of three-tab roofing material, and started hammering nails.

  While they worked, Felix came by to drop off several cans of paint and the supplies to go with them. He waved to the roofer as enthusiastically as he did to Gina when he left again.

  “I don’t know why he brought paint. There aren’t walls to paint yet,” she said, wondering if the roofer was paying any attention to her. When he just kept banging his hammer without saying a word, Gina gave up on conversation.

  It was barely after twelve noon when they finished and descended the ladder for the last time. Once again, he put the ladder next to house.

  “Come,” he said to her. He opened the passenger door of his pickup. “Sit.”

  Gina knew better than to ride off in a stranger’s vehicle, even though she trusted him. She still didn’t know his name, and he’d barely said half a dozen words to her that day. Plus, she’d have no idea of where he was taking her.

  “Felix brought paint. I should work on that for a while,” she said.

  “Nothing to paint.” His eyes seemed to narrow at her over the hood of his pickup. “Sit.”

  “Okay.” Gina did as she was told and sat on the front seat of his truck. She did, however, leave the door open for a quick exit. They sat quietly until most of their water was gone.

  “You big boss here now?” he asked after a while.

  “Right. The Tanizawas just hired me last week, and I got here a couple of nights ago. I still need to…”

  Gina shut up when he tapped her thigh.

  “Work from sunrise till lunch. No work in the afternoon. Still got work to do? Do it from four o’clock till dinner. Then time to knock it off. Okay?”

  The way he said it, it was more of a command than a suggestion.

  “Yes, Sir. It’s just that I have so many things to do, and…”

  He patted her thigh again.

  “No need to make friends with flies.”

  “Flies?” she asked.

  “Honey and poo attract flies same way, right? But no need to attract flies. Plenty of them around all the time.”

  “I guess I don’t understand.”

  He looked impatient. “One kind job in kitchen, another kind job in bathroom.”

  “Okay.”

  “Hard work for morning, easy kind work for afternoon, hanashi banashi for time off, nighttime for sleep.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about, let alone what some of the words meant. “I’ll remember that.”

  He finished his bottle of water and put the empties back in the cooler. “What time you go to church?”

  “Tomorrow? I wasn’t planning to. I don’t know where they are here.”

  “You nice Catholic girl, yeah?”

  “Catholic, anyway. Why?”

  “Ja, mata ashita de.” He started his truck, ready to leave. He seemed to give something some thought before saying, “Grazie mille.”

  “Di niente,” she said while getting out of the truck. It was odd hearing Italian come from a Japanese man, but gave it little thought. “When are you coming back for the ladder?”

  “Mata ashita,” he said before leaving.

  “Sure, whatever.” Gina watched as he went over the little bridge. “Why do I get the idea growing plants in the tropics is going to be the easy part of this job?”

  When she went into the house, she found Felix had arranged cans of paint in different rooms, as though it was some sort of hint of what he’d like. Each of the cans were new, and were labeled with the same store name as on her new gloves. Popping the tops of a few, she found they were all white.

  “White? Every wall in this place needs to be the same color?” She closed up the cans again. “I wonder when the wall paneler guy shows up? Hopefully
he waits until I’m out of bed before he starts banging nails in the bedroom walls.”

  After eating a quick lunch and applying a second coat of aloe to her sunburn, Gina got dressed for a trip into town. She found the hardware store listed on the back of her gloves on a map, and set off in search of it.

  The same hardware store where the gloves had come from was easy to find, right across the street from a bus stop. It was less a matter of wanting different paint, and more about seeing what the store was like. The paint, work gloves, and work belt all came from this store. Apparently, it was the place to go in that part of town and she assumed she was going to be spending a lot of time and money there in the coming months. When she went in, she found the paint guy. He wasn’t bad looking for someone named Brad.

  “Hi. Someone got several cans of paint for me from this store. Unfortunately, it’s all white and I was wondering if there was a way to get color added to them?”

  “Eight cans? Four primer, and four white?”

  “I guess. I don’t know much about paint.”

  He smiled at her. “That was Felix. Is there something wrong with them?”

  “He forgot to put colors in them.”

  “Are you that new boss at the old Tanizawa place?”

  “That’s me. Are you still able to add some color?” she asked.

  “Sure. Did you bring them with you?”

  “I had to take the bus. I don’t have wheels yet.”

  Brad led her to the display of cards with paint colors. “I can make any color you want. What did you have in mind?”

  Gina had never selected colors for anything in her life, even for the bedroom she had shared with Ana while growing up. The display of paint color choices seemed to dazzle her, and after a moment she grabbed a few that seemed suitable.

  “Are these okay for inside a house?”

  “Should be. They go in the paint and not in the primer. Just bring the four cans back sometime and I’ll mix something up for you. Is there anything else?”