“Yakamashii!” Mas yelled at him to shut up and shook the hook closer to his face. “Kenta-kun, the rag on the floor, stuff it in his mouth.”
The boy stood motionless, his hands hanging limp by his sides.
“Kenta!”
He gingerly picked up the dirty rag and began to poke it in the man’s mouth.
Tatsuo spat it out. “There’s old fish scales and grease on that thing.”
Oh well, Mas thought, perhaps that was going overboard. He told Kenta to forget about it and instead go to the landing to see if Sora’s father had arrived. “You know what he looks like?”
Kenta nodded.
“Okay. Then go over to the boat and bring him back here.”
“What should I tell him?”
“Tell him it’s about Sora. And if he’s not on the boat, go over and get Ikeda-sensei from Senbazuru.”
Kenta bit his lip in determination. Bam, bam, bam, his footsteps clanged on the metal stairs on his way down.
His hands bound together, Tatsuo wasn’t putting up a fight. He was certainly angry, however. Mas could feel his bitterness. “You don’t understand,” said Tatsuo. “None of it.” But he offered no explanation.
After about ten minutes, Mas heard a series of footsteps on the stairs. It was Toshi and Hideki, with Kenta following behind.
“What’s this all about?” Toshi was dressed in a button-down shirt, his collar wide open.
“Sora came to this factory after he arrived on the ferry. This guy, Tatsuo, left money for him here.”
“Is this true?” Hideki asked. Toshi, meanwhile, gestured for Mas to lower the hook.
“I don’t know anything. I just did what was I told.”
“By who?”
“Tell us, Tatsuo-san.”
Tatsuo sunk down to his knees, his hands still secured. “Gohata-san.”
Toshi seemed skeptical. “Why would Gohata-san leave money for Sora?”
“I didn’t know who was coming for it. Gohata-san told me to do it. He was off the island and said that it needed to get done that day. I didn’t ask questions.”
Hideki had become strangely quiet. In fact, he’d taken a few steps back toward the stairs.
“Wait a minute. He knows something.” Mas began waving the hook again, this time in the direction of Hideki.
“Stop with that,” Toshi said. “Hide-kun, what is going on?”
Hideki’s face took on that mask-like quality again.
“How could he be involved?” Toshi said to Mas. “He had nothing to do with Gohata.”
Hideki, who’d failed to immediately defend himself, finally spoke up. “I did actually have some dealings with Gohata.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I saw them talking in the village before.” Kenta piped up. They’d all forgotten that the boy was even there.
“I don’t understand. I really don’t. He couldn’t have known anything.” Toshi kept shaking his head. “What trouble have you gotten in now?”
Again, Hideki wasn’t talking.
“What’s the passcode for your phone?” Toshi held up the phone with the risqué manga cover.
“Where did you get that?”
“Tell me.”
Hideki recited four numbers, which Toshi punched in. The principal turned his back on the setting sun and looked through the phone, his fingers moving rapidly on the screen.
“What? What’s on my phone?”
“Who is ‘Majin’? Is that your name for Gohata?”
Hideki’s face grew red.
“That’s from Dragon Ball Z,” Kenta said. Mas figured that was some kind of game. “Majin Boo is a demon.”
Toshi handed the phone over to Hideki, who scrolled through it. “I didn’t write those messages.”
“I know. I know how you text and those last messages don’t seem like yours. Sora must have taken your phone and assumed your identity. He became you in these text messages with Gohata.”
Hideki stared at the screen in disbelief. “He was demanding 200,000 yen.” The sum astounded him. “I don’t understand. You mean that he came over to get money, but for what purpose?”
Mas felt heat rush to his head. “Because he didn’t want to move away.” The apartment manager had mentioned that Sora’s mother owed him 200,000 yen.
“Rei never told me that she needed money.”
Toshi crossed his arms and hugged his chest.
“What?” Hideki asked his friend.
“Let’s be real, Hide-kun. If she told you, what could you have done?”
“Maybe rob a konbini. Break into one of those nice houses by Hijiyama Park.”
“That’s probably why she didn’t want to tell you.”
“Now you sound like Rei.” Hideki stuffed his phone into his pocket. “So someone killed Sora over the money he had received?”
That part was unclear to Mas.
“You mean my boy risked his life for this? To stay in that hellhole of an apartment?”
“It was his home. Only place he could relax,” Mas said.
Another other thing had not been answered. What did Hideki have on Gohata? It was obvious that Sora hadn’t come up with this blackmail scheme on his own. Hideki must have extorted the district representative before.
“Is someone going to untie me?” Tatsuo asked from the floor.
Both Kenta and Toshi went to his aid. Toshi was carrying a penknife and used it to saw through the rope.
“I did the knots,” Kenta shyly told Toshi.
“You’re certainly good at it.” Toshi grinned. “What’s your name?”
“Chiba Kenta.”
“Kenta-kun, do you play baseball? You should play with us sometime.”
Tatsuo’s hands were loosened and he got to his feet and rubbed his left wrist with his right hand.
“I’ll be calling the police,” Toshi said. “I wouldn’t tell anyone else about this, okay, Tatsuo-san?”
Tatsuo glared at each one of them. He saved his most venomous look for Mas. “After all I did for you. Baka American,” he said and disappeared down the steps.
Tatsuo’s slur stung. Mas was surprised that it did, because he’d been called a lot worse in California over the years. Tatsuo had been invaluable during his tumultuous trip to the island, and Mas felt awful to return that hospitality with threats. The voiceless Sora needed an advocate, however, and that superseded any cultural codes of contact. Mas was not Japanese, after all.
He, Toshi, and Hideki all gathered around the kitchen table at Senbazuru. Toshi was making coffee in an espresso maker over the stove. He served it black and strong in small cups. This would be a long night.
“So, tell us,” Toshi said to his friend.
Hideki began. That first morning during Golden Week, he had been feeling good. He and Sora were on the ferry together. It had taken quite a bit of cajoling to get Sora to cooperate, but here they were. “He liked it. He liked the seawater hitting his face. The ferry moving along the water.” Tears welled up in Hideki’s eyes. “I told him that water was magic. That he shouldn’t be afraid of it.”
Then they went from house to house in the village—doing odd jobs. Fixing a leaky toilet. Repairing a lock. Weatherproofing a door. “It was like we were a regular father and son,” he said. “It was amazing.”
Everything changed when they went by Gohata’s house to move stones in the garden. “An old lady comes out of the house. She’s carrying something in a box. She tells us that it needs to be buried. Put to rest. I have no idea what she’s talking about.” Hideki gulped down the rest of his coffee, which must have been lukewarm by then. “Sora opens it. It’s a skeleton.”
Mas felt like a force was pressing against his chest.
“A skeleton of a baby. The skull almost didn’t look human. It was too large for the body. It looked like an alien. The old lady says that’s her baby.” So the pregnant Kondo-Obasan in her daughter’s story had given birth. How long had the baby been alive?
“Sora is scre
aming. I finally am able to calm him down. The old lady has disappeared. I decide that I need to take Sora back to Hiroshima.” Hideki’s body seemed too stiff, as if he was still holding something back.
Toshi suspected there was more, too. “And what else?” he prodded.
“I took the bones back to Hiroshima with me.”
Toshi started cursing. “How could you do such a thing?”
“I lost my mind. I don’t know. But I thought this might be an opportunity.”
Toshi kept shaking his head. “I don’t believe this. I just don’t believe it.”
“I had Gohata-san’s phone number, so I call it. I tell him what I have and we meet in downtown Hiroshima. He tells me if I give him back the bones and keep my mouth shut, he will give me 100,000 yen.”
“What were those bones from and why would you take money for them?” Toshi practically spat in disgust. “And why is it such a secret?”
“He never told me.”
“And I’m sure you just threw that money away.”
“From that first time, that’s how I was able to go to San Francisco to visit my friend. I’ve always wanted to go there and ride the cable cars. I wanted to take Sora with me, but I didn’t have enough money for him. And, of course, he was too scared to leave his room.
“I told my friend in San Francisco that I’m going to get serious and make some money. So that Sora can see this someday.”
“You said ‘first time.’ How many other times did you ask for money?”
Hideki’s narrow shoulders slumped forward. “One other. A month ago. But that was for only 50,000.”
“Evidence of all of that is on your phone,” Toshi said.
“I’ll need to get rid of those texts.” Hideki pulled out his cell, only to have his friend grab it away.
“You are not going to get rid of anything. This all has to go to the police.”
“Toshi-kun!” Hideki looked shocked that his friend was going to sell him out.
“Do you want to find out what really happened to Sora? I mean really?”
Hideki clenched his teeth. “Of course.”
“Well, then, we need to come clean with everything.”
Hideki’s silence signaled acquiescence.
Toshi pressed on the phone’s screen. “There’s this last text on the phone. It’s from some other blocked number, telling Sora to go to the oyster factory at sundown.”
“Gohata?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, who else had your number?”
“Just you. And of course, Rei.”
“Since the atomic-bomb commemoration in Hiroshima is tomorrow, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to reach Suzuki-san, but I’ll at least leave a message on his cell.” Toshi went outside to make his phone call.
Hideki reached for a crumpled pack of cigarettes on the table only to discover that it was empty. He patted down his pockets. Empty as well. He sighed. “I’ve been an awful father. I know that.”
Mas placed his palms over his coffee cup, as if he were trapping a small bird. “We’ve all fallen short. Me, too.” Only Mas had had a second chance with his daughter. There would be no opportunities of redemption between Hideki and his son.
Toshi came back inside. “He didn’t answer,” he said from the genkan. “Get your shoes on. It’s time for a little conversation with Gohata-san.”
They took Senbazuru’s vehicle, a small white van used for special excursions. Toshi was a skilled driver who anticipated the turns of the road in spite of the darkness. There were hardly any street lights, because why would there be a need for them? Normally, no one would be driving to the village at this hour. Luckily, the moon, which had been full a few days ago, was still bright.
Toshi navigated the narrow roads with ease. He drove the van as far as it could go and parked against a wall. “We’ll have to walk from here.”
All the lights inside the konbini, aside from the ones in the refrigerated case, were off. Toshi grabbed a flashlight from a compartment on the driver’s-side door. As a steward of vulnerable children, he seemed always prepared. Although Mas had previously taken this elevated path to the district representative’s house, at night it seemed unfamiliar.
When they reached the porch, Toshi pounded on the door. The house was dead quiet. A string of small lights had been hung around the garden, the only bit of whimsy that Mas had witnessed in the village. “At least the sister-in-law should be home,” Toshi muttered, pounding again.
Hideki seemed distracted by the garden. “We did all of this work,” he said, pointing to the broken pieces of stone that formed the walkway. Mas was thoroughly unimpressed. In his professional gardening heyday, he could have created that walkway with his eyes closed and even then, it would have resulted in something more artful.
“There’s no one here. Maybe there’s a meeting at the community center.”
They walked down the pathway, Toshi’s flashlight swinging back and forth with each downhill step. When they reached the van, something moved by its front bumper. Mas at first thought it could be a large animal, but as Toshi aimed his flashlight toward it, they saw it was a boy, the chubby ringleader, Daisuke. He seemed to be making his getaway.
“Wait. Daisuke, isn’t that your name?” Toshi called out.
The boy froze.
“Why are you running away from us?” Hideki asked.
“No reason.” He crossed his fleshy arms. He was young, yet he already had a double chin.
The three of them surrounded the boy. He showed no fear, a criminal in the making. Toshi aimed his flashlight right on his forehead.
Mas could not keep silent. “You bullied Sora-kun.”
“Who says?”
As he couldn’t reveal Kenta’s identity, Mas paused.
“What did you do with the money?” Toshi took over the interrogation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sora’s money.”
“That wasn’t his money.”
Daisuke may have been strong of body but he was weak in mind. Realizing that he had divulged too much, he said, “You’re going to get in trouble for harassing me.”
“You’re going to get in trouble for killing a boy.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“What did you do then?”
Hideki inserted himself. “Tell us. Sora was my son.”
Daisuke narrowed his eyes in reaction to the force of the flashlight. “It was just a prank, okay? I took the bag and was going to hide it. But then I opened the envelope inside. It was filled with money.”
“What did you do with it?” Toshi asked.
“I was counting it on the steps of my house and Gohata-san sees me. Asks me where I got the money and I tell him. He says that he’s going to take care of everything.”
“And what else?”
“What?”
“How much money did he give you to keep your mouth shut?”
Daisuke’s eyes rolled back and forth like one of those old-fashioned American Kit-Cat Clocks. He sighed. “Half of it.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Silence.
Toshi, of course, didn’t raise a hand against the boy, but Mas could see the anger in his eyes.
The boy blew out air from his cheeks. “He’s taking off in his boat.”
Toshi gestured to Mas and Hideki and they headed to the van. There were small jetties all around the island, and Gohata’s private one wasn’t far from the main landing where the Shinto shrine stood. As they took off in the van, it was apparent that Toshi was fueled by adrenaline as he swerved dangerously close to a narrow drainage ditch by the side of the road.
When they pulled up to the jetty, Gohata was untying his boat. Toshi led the pack as they hurried from the van toward the jetty. “Don’t you think it’s unsafe to take a boat out in the middle of the night?” he said.
Gohata leapt into his boat, pulling a cord to start the engine.
“Kora, stop!”
Mas
was amazed to see Toshi run to the jetty and jump off into the water.
Something must have been wrong with the motor because it sputtered out. Gohata began to curse and the boat began to rock. Fingers appeared on the starboard side and then a soaked Toshi pulled himself up into the boat. Another splash and Hideki was in the water and also climbing into the boat to help Toshi subdue Gohata, who resisted them as much as he could. He was not a match for the two men who were half his age.
Mas carefully stepped onto the jetty and caught the rope that Toshi tossed to him, easing the boat to the side of the dock. He heard Hideki yelling at Gohata, “How could you do that to my boy? How could you kill him?”
Gohata stepped out of the boat, the two younger men gripping each arm.
“None of you understand,” the district representative said. “You are half-breeds. Rejects. Outsiders. My only granddaughter is getting married next year. Into an elite family in Kyoto. They have no stain. They can’t tie themselves to a bloodline that may have been marred by the Bomb.”
They took Gohata to the Ino community center and found a storage room for which Gohata, ironically, had the key on his keychain. Toshi and Hideki stuffed him in there amid stacks of toilet paper, paper towels, and computer paper. Toshi wrote a sign and affixed it to the locked door: “CRIMINAL SUSPECT. DO NOT OPEN WITHOUT PERMISSION OF IKEDA TOSHI AT SENBAZURU.”
“At least he has plenty of paper to wipe his oshiri,” Hideki commented as they prepared to leave. Even Mas had to smile at the rude remark.
On the drive back, Hideki began to cry. It was a few tears at first, but then full-on sobs, his body convulsing.
“Don’t throw up in the van,” was Toshi’s only response. Mas noticed that he was gripping the steering wheel hard with both hands, even though their path was completely straight.
Toshi stopped in front of the nursing home. Mas could see the light of the office through the glass door. Tatsuo was probably in there.
“I don’t think I can go back there,” Mas said, remaining in the back seat.
Toshi turned and grunted. “True. It’ll be a bit crowded, but stay with me. We can pick up your suitcase tomorrow.”
As they got closer to Senbazuru, Toshi rolled down his window and sniffed. Mas smelled it, too. Fire.
Hiroshima Boy Page 13