“But Michael, you only had a couple of granola bars for breakfast, and it’s lunchtime. We should have taken the time to get food when we were in the village—”
“I’ve got plenty of MREs for you to choose from,” the driver said, turning around to wink at Michael.
“Fair enough,” I said as the jeep halted for Michael’s departure. “You take that little foil-wrapped mystery meal. I prefer miso stew.”
When the military driver dropped me at the shelter a half hour later, though, I found that lunch was over and done with. The minibus bound for the hospital in Sendai was already filling up. As was becoming my habit, I was the last person to scramble on.
“Sit with us!” Miki demanded, patting the bench next to her and her sister. It was a tight fit as I maneuvered myself into about fourteen inches of space, so I wound up with Chieko on my lap.
“Shimura-san, how lucky that you returned in time to ride with us. Where were you all day?” Mrs. Haneda inquired. She was in the seat behind us with the baby.
“Michael and I returned the lacquer Miki and her friends found. The owners were so grateful to the girls. They also gave them a special gift.” I presented the box and let Miki and Chieko open it together. The sisters squealed over the five brilliantly colored dolls and then became busy deciding who would get which one. I handed the smallest one to Mrs. Haneda to save for the baby to enjoy in a few years, and put the remaining two dolls away for Keiko and the other girl who’d been with her when the lacquerware was found.
“Kokeshi dolls are very special to this region. Do you know why?” Mrs. Haneda asked.
“They were originally created by carpenters in Tohoku and sold as souvenirs in hot spring towns, right?”
“That’s correct. But did you know about the special wood used for the doll’s head?”
“No. Isn’t it just pine?”
“Actually, it’s called mizuki: water wood. This is an excellent wood because it resists the flames. So while some people feel a kokeshi doll is a charm for having a healthy child, others think it’s a way to keep your home safe from fire.” She paused. “So, because of these fine gifts, after we move into our next home, we can feel very safe.”
Fire was the opposite of water. But there was no talisman that could possibly protect Sugihama from too much water hitting it again. I’d heard of a Japanse coastal town that had been lashed by tsunamis on four occasions spanning just one hundred years. I didn’t say anything about my thoughts, but I wasn’t sure it was worth settling so close to water again—for the Hanedas, and for everyone else.
The question of Tohoku’s future hung with me as we entered Sendai City. Here, it was too far from the ocean for the wave to have come, but the quake’s effects on buildings was much more dramatic than it had been in Tokyo. I’d heard about many days in Sendai without electricity and fresh water, and terrible damage to its buildings, so I was relieved that the tall, modern hospital building where we stopped looked relatively unscathed.
Every passenger had someone to visit in the hospital. However, the first stop for most was the restroom, with real toilets enclosed in stalls and fresh water running in sinks. At least, that’s what I expected was behind the closed door with a little lady icon. I figured I’d visit the honorable hand-washing place when the line wasn’t so long, and use the gap of time while the Hanedas awaited their turns to check in with Tom.
I’d texted Tom on the ride over but heard nothing. So I decided to politely raise the big-shot Tokyo E.R. doctor’s name with the information desk attendant.
“I’ll page him right now,” the receptionist said after I explained that I was his cousin. A few minutes later, Tom emerged hurriedly from the elevator, his white coat worn open over a sweater and jeans.
“Not the way doctors dress at St. Luke’s International Hospital, huh?” I teased with a grin. “But where are those great wading boots?”
“Hey, this is a nice surprise,” Tom smoothly ignored my ribbing. “I thought you were in Tokyo. Did you ever find Michael?”
“Yes, he’s come back to Tohoku with me but is doing his own thing right now.”
“And what is your thing, Rei? You’ve got the look I know. I’m about to get some questions, right?”
“First things first.” Quickly, I explained about finding the lacquer and returning it to Mayumi’s parents—who’d given me some startling information about their daughter’s head injury. “The parents also mentioned a doctor performed an autopsy of Mayumi.” I looked hard at Tom. “I can’t imagine how that happened.”
“I did an informal postmortem examination.” Tom was speaking English, something I guessed he was doing both for privacy and because my knowledge of Japanese medical terminology was limited. “Let’s sit down over there, and I’ll explain.”
As I perched beside him on a vinyl chair in a reception area, Tom’s voice remained low. “I made a call to the Sugihama police saying I’d heard about a suspicious death. I asked if I could run some x-rays on the body before cremation. A look at the bones was really all I could do because she was so decomposed.”
“I remember,” I said, swallowing hard. “It was really generous of you to do the examination. I don’t even know how you heard I was concerned about the circumstances of her death.”
“Michael had a little information you texted to him, but it was Michiko—I mean, Nurse Tanaka—who really explained what was gong on. I felt badly for the young lady. Some others were getting autopsies—so why not her?”
“Tell me everything about the x-rays. What the Kimuras know, they heard from the police, and who knows how the story might have been altered?”
“When I reviewed the film, there was clearly a crushed area in the front of the cranium. Bone shattered and pierced the brain. She would have lost consciousness quickly, but also slowly bled to death.”
“Do you think a fall crushed her skull?”
“This is the unclear part. Falls usually cause head injuries to the rear of the skull. Mayumi’s head injury was in front, close to the top of her forehead. The splintering was more consistent with contact from a hard object. If she fell, she would only have fallen forward and bumped against something high.”
“Mayumi had been found in the room’s center, not near a wall,” I said. Tom was silent, and during this time I thought about Asao and Daigo, the two gangsters that Glock and Eri had mentioned. If they’d confronted her at the auction house and grabbed her outside, they could have knocked her in the head and then left her body wherever they pleased.
Tom’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Now, the second part of my findings. The x-ray also showed a shoulder dislocation—the left shoulder, I believe. This trauma could have been caused by either a fall or a punch.”
“When we saw her in the butcher shop, she was curled in a fetal position. Why would anyone curl up after falling down?”
“Someone in pain might do that to try to comfort herself,” Tom said. “It seems to suggest being conscious for a while, rather than being knocked out cold.”
“How awful for her,” I said, imagining it.
“The police didn’t contact me about the report, which makes me think they’ve accepted the idea of a fall. They may have communicated this information to Mayumi’s parents. If you’d like, I can call them later, but unfortunately, I’ve got to return to work.”
Shoot. I’d have to delay telling him about the gangsters, a detail that would have raised his eyebrows, to say the least. “Tom, your decision to examine her was really important. I don’t know if anything will ever come of it, but thank you so much.”
“If I can help, I’ll do it. I learned that approach from a younger cousin.” Tom gave me a light pat between my shoulders.
I smiled halfheartedly. “I’m on my way to visit a male patient in his thirties called Haneda-san. He was crushed under a vending machine.”
“Haneda-san is recovering nicely. It seems that almost all the survivors who’ve made it to this hospital are extremely to
ugh. I don’t know if it’s the Tohoku genes or just determination. A teenaged patient in the same room as Mr. Haneda has a similarly incredible survival story about a jungle gym—you should ask him.”
Tom gave me a swift goodbye hug just as Miki and her family emerged from the ladies’ room. Riding up in the hospital elevator, I realized the teenager Tom had spoken about was the same person Mrs. Haneda had mentioned.
The patients’ room was sunny, with its window shades pulled all the way up, a standard procedure in Japanese hospitals. I could barely recognize the good-looking man wearing fresh pajamas and sitting upright in bed as the filthy, gaunt wreck I’d met a little more than a week ago. The girls rushed to surround their father, leaning in to hug and kiss him until Mrs. Haneda lifted up the two older ones to cuddle on either side of his bed.
“You must be Shimura-san,” he said, bowing his head toward me. “I heard the lifesaver was coming. Thank you for what you did last week. So many times people walked by and never heard me call for help.”
Bowing back, I told him, “But Hachiko was the one who knew you were there. She smelled you and was absolutely set on getting you out.”
“This dog deserves a big bone. I’d like to give her one.”
“I wish I could have brought her with me,” I said. “Unfortunately, she’s gone to Tokyo and resumed her old life in Mr. Ishida’s shop.”
“A dog that goes shopping? That’s very funny,” Miki giggled, and her parents laughed along.
“I’m so delighted you’re doing this well,” I said to Mr. Haneda.
“I understand one of my doctors is your relative,” Mr. Haneda said. “He says I’ll be released soon, as long as there is good temporary housing for me to go straight into.”
“My husband can’t stay on a shelter floor,” Sadako said to me, “and it will be at least another week until trailers are delivered. And then, we have to find furnishings.”
“I hear the trailers will be in Sugihama, not too far from my office,” Mr. Haneda said.
“But your office is closed for a long time. That would make it easy to stay with your sister in Yokohama, who’s offered several times.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “But that’s inconvenient for her. She has her own children and husband. The place is not large. It’s better to stay in Sugihama.”
“Yes, Otoochan. Then Butter will come home,” Miki said.
“She was just so glad you were alive—and there are jobs there—good schools…”
As Mrs. Haneda began murmuring to her husband, I felt I was becoming an intruder on a very painful, personal scene.
While the parents remained locked in discussion, the daughters had moved on. Chieko and Miki were showing their kokeshi dolls to the patient in the other bed. As I walked closer, I saw he was covered in even more bandages than Mr. Haneda, plus casts on all limbs.
“This is our big-boy friend, Masa-kun!” Miki announced when she noticed I’d come over to them. “Please meet Rei-san. She came from Hawaii. She had a really nice dog for a while, but now she’s in Tokyo.”
“Are you the famous one who survived by holding onto the jungle gym?”
“Yes, that’s me.” A smile emerged between the bandages. “But I wasn’t on the jungle gym for long.”
“Really?” I asked, glad that he was interested in talking.
“The wave swung me all around so that I couldn’t hold on anymore. I caught hold of a building roof that was floating in the current. Ten hours later I was rescued.”
“What an incredible story. A lot of people are talking about it.”
He shook his head. “I learned a little too late that staying on the jungle gym wasn’t an intelligent idea. My friends didn’t make it. All of them drowned.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You know, I climbed that jungle gym because I wanted to make a movie on my cell phone. I really thought the town’s sea wall was going turn it back.”
“When I was watching television in Hawaii, I saw the wave come up over the sea wall,” I told him.
“Because we were high, I could see the water coming in. Right then I began thinking of trying to get to the evacuation staircase, but it seemed too late. A girl yelled at us to run with her into the old kindergarten; it’s the tallest building on the street. A couple of my friends followed her, but they ran out again and said the door to the upstairs was locked shut and the guy wouldn’t let them in. They climbed up the jungle gym to be with me. By that time, the water was coming into the street.”
After his words, I felt like all the other sounds in the room had faded. “How old was the girl?”
“She was maybe a little older than us. I hadn’t seen her before. She probably came from out of town.”
“Was her hair blue?”
“Um—it was a distance, so I couldn’t see clearly. I don’t think it was black—it was something weird. Do you know her?”
“A little bit. Can you remember which direction that girl went when she came back out of the auction house? Was anyone with her?”
“I really don’t know.” He lay still, and I sensed how hard he was thinking. “I didn’t see her come out. I remember my friends, because they came back to the jungle gym and climbed up. We were all getting nervous.”
Mr. Ishida had believed that she left the building for good. Masa was saying otherwise. What was the truth?
“Masa-kun, did you see two men hanging around the shop at all? One man, any man? Someone who didn’t run away, but lingered?”
“No. All those auction people drove away right after the earthquake happened, but before the wave.”
“That makes sense.” I put my fingertips on my temples. My head was aching, very likely because I’d become faint from hunger—and this strange new information.
“Are you feeling all right, Shimura-san?” Mrs. Haneda asked from her chair near her husband’s bed.
“I’m getting a headache. I’d better find some aspirin and have a snack. What time will the minibus leave?”’
“We still have thirty minutes. Do you want Miki to help you?” Mrs. Haneda looked concerned.
“No, thanks. I’d rather take care of myself. I’ll meet you in the hospital driveway when it’s time to go. Goodbye, Masa-kun. Thank you for teling me all that information. I wish you a continuing great recovery—and to you as well, Haneda-san. It could be fun for your family to stay a while in Yokohama. I like that town a lot.”
“Are you sure you’re all right alone?” Mrs. Haneda called after me, but I was moving too fast to answer.
Chapter 34
Back on the main floor, I went to the seating area where I’d met with my cousin and took out my phone to ring Michael. His voice recording sounded distant and formal. I guessed he couldn’t answer because he was in the midst of moving the boats.
Just for the record, I left a detailed message starting with Tom’s information about Mayumi’s injuries, and then Masa’s thought that Mayumi had gone in—but not out of—the Takara Auction House. I said that I would be returning soon with the minibus.
As I hung up, I realized the headache had intensified. I needed to eat. Through the hospital’s clear glass windows, I saw the red and yellow signage of McDonald’s. I wasn’t a usual customer, but what else would be instantly available?
I hurried across the street to purchase “Mega Potato,” a pound of fried shoestring potatoes, plus a vanilla shake. As bad as it all sounded, I felt the shakiness drain from me. This was the power of fast food. I resolved not to criticize Michael so much for his McDonald’s habit. I had forgotten about aspirin, but had just enough time to throw away the meal’s paper wrappings, wipe my hands, and get back to the minibus that had returned to the hospital driveway.
“Did you have a bath?” I asked Miki as we boarded. Her hair was sopping wet, and she smelled like soap.
“A shower. We all took turns in the shower of Otoochan’s hospital bathroom. The nurses allowed it, even though we aren’t staying there.”
&
nbsp; “Kizuna,” I said.
“What?”
It felt odd to explain a Japanese word to a Japanese child. But it had only been spoken widely since the tsunami. “Kizuna means connection: the help people give each other, especially when there’s serious trouble. Remember when you gave me the rice balls for breakfast? Ishida-san and I wouldn’t have had anything to eat that morning if it wasn’t for your kizuna.”
I thought of Akira and his father rebuilding houses and shops. And of Michael, sending boats run aground back to the sea. But above all, I was remembering Mayumi, who had tried to save not just herself and Mr. Ishida, but some unknown teenage boys on a jungle gym.
“Oh, I understand now,” Miki said. “It’s like my aunt and uncle wanting us to stay with them in Yokohama. But I’d rather live here.”
“Sugihama’s wonderful. Yokohama is also a good town with a lot of fun things. I stayed there every summer with my relatives when I was a little girl.”
“Yes, that Shimura-sensei who’s your cousin told us. The problem is that if we go so far away… how will Butter know where to find us?”
I thought of saying they could have a new dog, but that would be like telling a mother that having a new child would help her work through losing the old one. “Everyone is looking for Butter. His name is on his collar. Either he will be found here or he’s found another family who’ve welcomed him. He could have swum to their house.”
“He knows how to swim—but I don’t want to, anymore. It was cruel of the ocean to kill people and take away our houses.”
“I can understand your feeling.” I realized that, since coming, I’d been unable to look at the ocean due to resentment—and fear. I hoped this feeling would fade, because I was eventually headed back to my own coastal home.
As we drew closer to Sugihama, the bus began making familiar, uncomfortable detours around gigantic objects in its path. The bus passed the corner of the street with the auction house, butcher shop, and some other unopened businesses. But the grocery and hardware stores had noren curtains hanging outside and their lights on. This was a great sign. Some of the bus riders, in fact, called out polite requests for the bus driver to please stop for a moment so they could get out and speak to the shop owners and perhaps buy some necessities.
The Kizuna Coast: A Rei Shimura Mystery (Rei Shimura Mysteries Book 11) Page 29