The Last Train (Detective Hiroshi Series Book 1)
Page 31
“No hardened killers to catch today?” Sanae asked.
“We’ve got them all taken care of. For now, anyway.”
“Yukari, you’ve made us late.”
“You were the one who had to re-pack everything.”
“The woman said we have to proceed immediately to the gate or we’ll miss our flight.”
“If we weren’t late, we would have missed him!” Yukari giggled. “I have to get some more of my favorite gum they might not have in Boston since it’s so sophisticated there and I have to go to the bathroom again so, you’ll just have to wait for me, though I’ll be right back,” Yukari sang, ignoring Sanae’s “Chotto matte, wait a second.”
“How long will you stay over there?” Hiroshi asked.
“I want to see her get into college. Who knows how long that will take?”
“Not long maybe, with her energy.”
“Can you write your address down for me again?” said Sanae, pulling a notebook out of her bag. “With all this packing I feel like I don’t know where anything is.”
“I have the same feeling, even without packing,” Hiroshi said. He took a pen and wrote down all the information he could think of, his phone numbers, work and home addresses, and emails.
“Here’s your umbrella by the way,” he said.
“I can’t take it on the plane. Besides, it’s wet.”
“Well—” Hiroshi twisted it around awkwardly.
“Keep it. Until I come back.”
“Okay. I will. Thank you.”
“I like hearing that.”
“What?”
“‘Okay. I will. Thank you.’” She lowered her voice to mimic his.
Hiroshi smiled.
Yukari came prancing back and in a mock-adult voice said, “Okay, you two, now we can go.”
Sanae admonished her as they turned toward the inspection area. “You’re making us late.”
“Me? You!” Yukari giggled.
“Write to me!” Hiroshi said.
“I will,” Sanae answered.
“Who writes anymore? People Skype or text or chat or visit, you know.” Yukari laughed.
They all looked away from each other’s eyes for a moment until Yukari grabbed Sanae’s arm and tugged and said, “Ma-um, let’s go-oh.”
Hiroshi and Sanae hugged each other quickly. Her bag slipped off her shoulder and swung around against him. Yukari laughed.
Mother and daughter ran off fumbling with their bags and laying them out on the conveyer belt before walking through the X-ray machine. They waved from the other side of the glass, hurrying excitedly.
He watched them disappear and looked up at the huge ceiling high above the departure lounge, thought of Linda’s goodbye, watching all the people going to new places. He felt, strangely, as if he had just arrived.
Hiroshi woke groggy from the short snooze when the airport express pulled into Tokyo Station. He took the Yamanote Line to Akihabara Station and caught a taxi. The rain was heavy. After a few minutes of hypnotizing windshield wipers, he was there. The driver looked at him like he was crazy to get out in such heavy rain, but took his money without a word.
Hiroshi opened up Sanae’s umbrella. Rain beat down on the nylon in loud, watery slaps. The wind-blown rain quickly soaked his pants, which clung to his legs from the knee down and dripped into his socks, sending a shiver through him.
Inside, bronze gutters channeled streams of rainwater into stone basins set around the bottom of the main building of Kanda Shrine. The overflow from the basins spilled onto the stones and gravel below. He could just make out the smaller buildings and outer walls through the heavy, gray rain.
Under the overhanging roof, he took down his—Sanae’s—umbrella, and slipped off his shoes. He couldn’t leave them in the rack in the rain, and there was no plastic bag to put them in, so he slipped them inside the umbrella and hurried up the old, wood stairs into the temple.
Inside the main hall, he could see a small light shining where a monk sat reading at a table, flipping thick prayer beads around his wrist, idly watching over a display case of omamori protective charms, folding sutras, and ema.
The monk looked a little surprised, but acknowledged Hiroshi’s presence—the one determined visitor in such a downpour—with a look that took in who Hiroshi was, and why he was there.
Seeing the monk reminded Hiroshi what the temple abbot said about the importance of contemplating death as a force in life. But Hiroshi wanted to contemplate all the other forces, too, the ones that guided and led him forward. He wasn’t sure what they were, but he felt them just the same.
Hiroshi tossed coins into the collection box, pulled on the huge rope attached to the bell and clapped his hands. With his head bowed, he held his hands together in front of his chest with his eyes closed and prayed. He wondered what was supposed to happen inside when offering a prayer he truly felt. Only a prayer truly felt had any hope of changing anything, of helping him accept what would never change.
The monk looked up at him again for a few seconds and then went back to his reading, flipping his beads to start another count.
The prayer Hiroshi offered was for the soul of Michiko Suzuki, whoever she might be.
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About the author
Michael Pronko is a professor of American Literature and Culture at Meiji Gakuin University in Tokyo and writes about Japanese culture, art, jazz, and politics for Newsweek Japan, The Japan Times, Artscape Japan and other publications. He has appeared on NHK Public TV, Tokyo MXTV and Nippon Television. His website, Jazz in Japan, can be found at: www.jazzinjapan.com. His award-winning collections of essays about life in Tokyo are: Beauty and Chaos: Slices and Morsels of Tokyo Life (2014), Tokyo’s Mystery Deepens: Essays on Tokyo (2014), and Motions and Moments: More Essays on Tokyo (2015), in addition to three essay collections in Japanese. When not teaching or writing, he wanders Tokyo contemplating its intensity and waiting for the stories to come.
For more on the Hiroshi thrillers: www.michaelpronko.com
Follow Michael on Twitter: @pronkomichael
Michael’s Facebook page: www.facebook.com/pronkoauthor
Also in the Hiroshi series:
Japan Hand
Thai Girl in Tokyo
Contents
Acclaim for Michael Pronko’s Essays on Tokyo
Also available by Michael Pronko
Copyright
THE LAST TRAIN
Epigraphs
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
About the author
Table of Contents
Acclaim for Michael Pronko’s Essays on Tokyo
Also a
vailable by Michael Pronko
Copyright
THE LAST TRAIN
Epigraphs
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
About the author