Mr. Kagawa followed in the same direction.
Beth saw a small group near Patrick. A woman with a long braid was shouting at him. Others were pushing him.
The rest happened as if Beth were watching in slow motion.
Zou lifted his long, wrinkled trunk.
Pfffttt.
A blast of water pelted the woman with the braid.
The woman shouted, “Yiii.”
The stream of water pushed her back and away from Patrick. The rest of the crowd moved away too.
Patrick turned his back to the spray and held the baby close. Then he managed to move behind Mr. Kagawa.
Beth came to stand next to him.
Mr. Fukui scolded Zou. He picked up the chain. He pulled the elephant away from the pond.
The woman with the braid didn’t seem put off. She rushed again toward Patrick and the baby.
Mr. Kagawa stood still. He lifted his hands with his palms facing out. He held them up as if to say, “Stop!”
“Sensei!” the woman cried. She fell at Mr. Kagawa’s feet and lowered her head. She talked in a soft voice so only Mr. Kagawa could hear.
Mr. Kagawa took her hand and gently pulled her up. The woman stood. Then she and Mr. Kagawa spoke in Japanese. They talked for a long time.
Beth whispered to Patrick, “What do you think she wants?”
Patrick said quietly, “She wants Chibi-chan.”
“Chibi-chan?” Beth said. She kissed the baby on the forehead.
Patrick grinned sheepishly. “It was the only little-kid Japanese name I knew,” he said.
Beth took Chibi-chan from Patrick’s arms. “Chibi-chan is a cute name,” she said, giggling. In a serious tone, she added, “I don’t think that woman is her mother. I saw Chibi-chan’s parents on the bridge. She had a scarf over her face. And she had a boy with her.”
“Then where are they?” Patrick asked.
“I wish I knew,” Beth said. “They must be worried about her. I don’t remember seeing them get out on the riverbank.”
Mr. Kagawa and the woman finished their conversation.
The woman left, weeping quietly.
Mr. Kagawa remained silent for a time. Then he turned to the cousins.
“I didn’t mean for Zou to spray her,” Patrick said. “Is the woman going to be okay?”
Mr. Kagawa shook his head. “Her baby died in a fire,” he said. “She needs to find hope.”
Beth knew they couldn’t help the woman. God would have to heal her heart after such a loss.
“The Friends of Jesus will soon come to help these refugees,” Mr. Kagawa said. “They will bring tents and supplies. They will also preach the gospel of hope in Christ Jesus.”
“You told me these people follow the Shinto gods,” Beth said. “Will the refugees listen to the truth about Jesus?”
“The people will listen to anyone who brings them food,” Mr. Kagawa said. “Whether they believe in Jesus afterward is up to the Holy Spirit. The Christian’s job is to love and then to preach. That is the way it has always been.”
“That’s the way Jesus lived,” Patrick said. “He fed more than five thousand people in one day. But they didn’t all follow Him.”
“Not all,” Mr. Kagawa said. “But some did.”
A cool breeze passed over them. The wind gave Beth goose bumps. Then the dry, smoky heat returned. She hugged Chibi-chan.
“Can we go to the embassy now?” Patrick asked. “Chibi-chan needs a place to stay. And some food.”
“We’re done here,” Mr. Kagawa said with a nod. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get ready.”
Beth found a group of Japanese mothers. They helped her with Chibi-chan’s diaper needs.
Next she and Patrick said good-bye to the zookeeper and Zou.
Beth hugged the elephant’s trunk. “I wish I had some peanuts to give to you,” she whispered to him.
Mr. Kagawa carried the baby through the city. Patrick and Beth followed him along the crowded back streets.
The refugees now carried even more goods. They looked like turtles with their large bundles on their backs. The carts were piled wide and high.
One man rode a bicycle with a child on his shoulders. Another child rode on the shoulders of the first child. The back of the bicycle had bundles tied to it. The man rang the bicycle bell. Ching, ching.
Many of the refugees wore bandages on their arms and legs. Some hobbled on homemade crutches. All seemed tired and worn.
The crowds got thinner and thinner with each block Patrick and the others passed.
Patrick guessed Mr. Kagawa was leading them deeper into Toyko. The area looked wealthier. The buildings were larger. Fences and gardens separated them.
A few large, black automobiles moved slowly along the roads. They reminded Patrick of the car Imagination Station. Headlights cast dim beacons of light in the smoke-filled air. Horns bleated and echoed off building walls.
But the fire didn’t care about the buildings. It didn’t matter if they were old or new, large or small. The windblown sparks rapidly moved from place to place. The blaze burned most everything in its path.
Mr. Kagawa kept his suit jacket around Chibi-chan. It protected her face from the ash and wind.
Patrick kept his head down. But he looked up often. He was afraid he’d run into something.
Everywhere people were running and shouting. The bells on the fire trucks sounded. But Patrick knew they couldn’t stop the disaster. There weren’t enough of them.
Mr. Kagawa stopped on a stretch of sidewalk. Patrick looked up to see a grand two-story, white building. It was surrounded by a large lawn and shade trees.
“It’s the embassy,” Beth said. “Look at the flag.”
The American flag was on a vertical pole above the building’s entryway. The wind twisted the fabric. Most of it had burned away. Only a few white stars on blue fabric remained.
Patrick’s heart sank. No one at this embassy would be able to help them.
A large portion of the embassy roof had collapsed in the earthquake. The roof was tile, but that hadn’t stopped the fire. Patrick could see inside the embassy’s bay windows. The interior of the building was ablaze upstairs.
A woman came round the corner of the building. She rushed toward them. She wore a dark dress and high heels. A long necklace of pearls dangled around her neck. Her hair was short and styled. “I’ve been waiting in the garden,” the woman said. “My husband and I were supposed to go to lunch.” She looked and sounded American.
The woman nervously pulled on the pearl necklace. “I can’t find my husband,” she said. “Or his aides.”
Mr. Kagawa asked, “Your husband is Cyrus Woods, the ambassador?”
The woman nodded. “They might have gone to the Imperial Hotel,” she said. “That’s where the lunch was supposed to be. I hid in the garden for a long time after the earthquake. I kept hoping my husband would find me.”
She paused and gasped for breath. “What if he’s dead?”
Then Mrs. Woods burst into tears.
Beth took the woman’s hand. “We’ll help you find your husband,” she said.
Mr. Kagawa said, “We passed the hotel on the way here. It’s still standing. Perhaps we may accompany you there.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Woods said. “Thank you. I don’t speak Japanese. I’ve been here only one month.”
Just then two men came out of the burning building. They wore suits and carried large brown cardboard boxes. They set the boxes down on the sidewalk. Then one man ran back inside.
The other man approached the ambassador’s wife. His dark military uniform was covered in soot and specks of plaster.
“Thank goodness you’re all right, Major Burnett,” Mrs. Woods said. “Where is my husband?”
“Almost everyone has gone to the Imperial, ma’am,” he said to Mrs. Woods. “I stayed here to save our files. I was just going there with some of our papers.”
Major Burnett lifted the box in his arms. “
Ambassador Woods is at the hotel with them, ma’am. His office wall collapsed on him—”
The wind suddenly shifted. Sparks began to fly in the group’s direction. They all started to run.
Mrs. Woods began wailing in high-pitched shrieks.
Chibi-chan started crying too.
A fire truck rolled past, bells clanging.
Patrick covered his ears.
The Imperial Hotel
Beth and Mrs. Woods held hands as they ran. They hurried toward the Imperial Hotel. The woman’s shrieks had turned to gentle sobs and sniffles.
Major Burnett walked on the other side of Mrs. Woods. They were linked arm in arm. He carried the heavy box in the other arm.
Beth saw that the hotel wasn’t on fire. At least not yet.
The central garden had a large rectangular pool. At each corner, a large stone statue lay in pieces on the ground. Lily pads floated on the water.
Several men in hotel uniforms ran over to the pool. They knelt down and scooped out water with kitchen pots. Then they rushed around the garden putting out fires.
If a spark landed, a man would rush over to it. He would stomp on it first. If the spark didn’t go out, he would pour water on it.
Mr. Kagawa said, “The building’s roof didn’t fall in. I don’t see cracks in the bricks or stonework. This is good.”
“The hotel’s roof is metal, right?” Patrick asked.
A voice behind Patrick answered, “It’s copper. And the greenish stone blocks were carved from lava beds.”
Mr. Kagawa and the man bowed to each other.
Mr. Kagawa said, “You are Mr. Inumaru, the manager. I’ve read about you and this grand hotel in the newspapers.”
Mr. Inumaru bowed again and smiled. “And you are Toyohiko Kagawa,” he said. “I’ve read about you in the newspapers.”
Beth wondered about Mr. Kagawa. He seemed like a nice, ordinary Christian man. How did this Mr. Inumaru know about him?
The Shinto priest had recognized Mr. Kagawa too. The priest had called him a troublemaker. Was Mr. Kagawa a politician? A millionaire? An actor?
Mr. Inumaru asked, “And who are your friends?”
The hotel manager was wearing an unusual suit. It was half gray kimono and half black tuxedo. His hair was oiled in place.
He looked calm and in charge in spite of the disaster. His manners were perfect. And his English was excellent. It was the best any Japanese person had spoken so far.
Mr. Kagawa introduced everyone. Then he turned to Mrs. Woods, Major Burnett, and Beth.
Mr. Kagawa said, “This is Mr. Inumaru, the hotel manager. He will instruct you.” He put the wriggly Chibi-chan in Beth’s arms.
The baby grabbed a handful of Beth’s hair and tugged. Beth bit her lip to keep from complaining.
“Where is my husband?” Mrs. Woods asked Mr. Inumaru. “Is he alive?”
The hotel manager nodded. “He’s in the west wing of the upper floor,” he said.
Then Mr. Inumaru added, “The American embassy staff has taken over rooms 220 through 226. The French ambassador and his aides are in the nearby suites. The Dutch legion is near there too.”
Mrs. Woods squeezed Beth’s hand and then dropped it.
She hurried toward the main entrance. Her pearls swung with each step. Her high heels clicked on the tile walkway.
Major Burnett said good-bye to the group and followed Mrs. Woods. He walked quickly with the box of papers in his arms.
Beth paused and bounced Chibi-chan on her hip. “What can Patrick do?” she asked Mr. Kagawa.
“Patrick and I will help the hotel staff,” he said.
Beth frowned. “I can help too,” she said.
Mr. Inumaru said, “There will be plenty to do in the days ahead. Take the child and stay with Mrs. Woods for now. There are more Americans in the west wing.”
Patrick said, “I’ll take a turn watching Chibi-chan soon, Beth.”
Beth gave him a weak smile and waved good-bye.
“This way,” Mr. Inumaru said to Patrick and Mr. Kagawa. “I need help preparing for Crown Prince Hirohito. He is coming to inspect the hotel.”
The crown prince? Patrick might get to meet the future emperor of Japan. Beth tried not to feel left out.
Chibi-chan raised her wood doll and said, “Ning-yō.” She held the doll in the air and waved it. It was as if the toddler wanted Beth to have it.
Beth reached out a hand for the doll. But Chibi-chan giggled and then dropped it.
The toy landed with a thud on the stone sidewalk. The doll cracked in half at the middle.
Beth bent and picked up the pieces. She noticed that it was a nesting doll. But the smaller doll that was supposed to be inside was missing. Beth snapped the doll back together and gave it to Chibi-chan.
“Let’s go find Mrs. Woods,” she said to Chibi-chan. “And try not to think about seeing Crown Prince Hirohito.”
Patrick and Mr. Kagawa followed Mr. Inumaru through the servants’ corridors. They paused when they arrived at the kitchen.
Mr. Kagawa said, “I have some business to tend to. Please excuse me.” He bowed. Mr. Inumaru bowed. Then Mr. Kagawa left.
The kitchen was large. The appliances were new and shiny. But the room was crowded with tables, knives, and bowls. A row of empty hooks hung from the ceiling. Patrick guessed they used to hold the pots and pans.
It was already a hot day, and the smoke made the air thicker and hotter. Instantly Patrick began to sweat.
Mr. Inumaru handed Patrick a white apron. “Do you know how to roll rice balls?” the hotel manager asked.
Patrick put on the apron and adjusted it. “Is it like sushi?” he asked.
“I’ll show you,” Mr. Inumaru said. “It’s easier than sushi.”
A row of white bowls sat on a long metal table. The largest held an enormous mound of cooked rice. One bowl contained pieces of fried fish. Other bowls contained red powder, yellow powder, strips of seaweed, and sesame seeds.
Mr. Inumaru showed Patrick how to prepare the rice. The manager’s hand flew from bowl to bowl. He looked as if he was in fast-forward mode.
Soon Mr. Inumaru was finished. He held out a neat, tidy triangle of food. It had a strip of seaweed on top.
“Got it,” Patrick said. He hoped he could remember what to do. And how much of each ingredient went into a ball. “I can make some of those.”
“Good,” Mr. Inumaru said. “We need at least ten thousand.”
“Ten thousand!” Patrick said.
Mr. Inumaru put a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “There are hundreds of thousands of people in Tokyo. Most of their homes were destroyed. The earthquake ruined the train tracks. No one can leave yet. The refugees will need food. And they will come here for it.”
“Why?” Patrick asked.
“Because the Imperial Palace is just a few blocks away,” Mr. Kagawa said. “People will come to the palace gardens. And they’ll seek help from their leader, Crown Prince Hirohito.”
Patrick nodded. He picked up the rice ball. “We need only nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine more,” he said. He put the rice ball down. He scooped a handful of rice and began the second ball.
Beth climbed the grand staircase to the hotel’s second floor. The carpet was bright red. She looked over her shoulder. She longed to explore the main floor.
She could see a restaurant and a theater. She also spotted an area large enough for a grand ball. All the walls were made of the green lava stone. The light fixtures, furniture, and decorations were in geometric shapes.
The second floor wasn’t as spacious. And the halls were narrower.
She turned left at the top of the stairs. She found herself looking down a hallway. There were room doors every ten feet. The wood doors seemed very low.
She and Patrick could fit through easily enough. But the adults would have to duck their heads.
Beth walked down the hall a little ways. She came to room 204 and got curious. She knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
She opened the door and peeked inside. The room was pleasant and sparsely furnished. Lava blocks jutted out from the walls in geometric shapes. Wall lamps in a bronze-green color hung over the bed.
She closed the door.
She went next door to room 206 and knocked. Again, there was no answer. So she opened the door.
The bedroom was similar to the other room. But the wall lamps hung in different places.
Beth decided to look at one more room. No one answered her knock at room 208. She put her hand on the metal doorknob. It seemed warm. She paused.
Somewhere in Beth’s mind was a warning about warm doorknobs. But the day was unusually hot, and so she dismissed her thought. She pushed the door open.
A giant cloud of gray smoke rushed out. Beth took a quick step backward.
“Fire!” she shouted. “Fire! Fire! Fire!”
Room 208
Beth shut the door to room 208. She held Chibi-chan tightly with one arm. She ran down the hall to room 230. She pounded on the door with her free hand.
Major Burnett opened the door and frowned. “I thought you would be room service,” he said. “We have to send a telegram.”
Beth stood there catching her breath. “There will be no rooms at all if we don’t hurry,” she said between gasps.
“What’s the trouble?” Major Burnett asked.
“Room 208 is on fire!” Beth cried.
Mrs. Woods appeared in the doorway. “Give me the baby,” she said. “Run quickly. Warn the French and the Dutch.”
Beth kissed Chibi-chan on the forehead. Then she handed her to Mrs. Woods.
“The French are in room 242. The Dutch in 250,” Major Burnett said. “I’ll go to room 208. Hurry.”
Beth felt as if she were telling everyone the redcoats were coming. She knocked on the door of room 242.
“Fire!” she shouted.
Patrick was making rice ball number twenty-two. He heard a commotion outside the kitchen.
He finished putting the seaweed on the rice treat. Then he peeked out the door. He could see the main hall and the dining room.
Inferno in Tokyo Page 3