Project Gemini (Mission 2

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Project Gemini (Mission 2 Page 21

by Jill Williamson


  ● ● ●

  Sunday Jun led me and Gabe and Wally into downtown to tour Shuri Castle, which was supposed to be one of Okinawa’s biggest tourist attractions. We walked ten blocks to the Yuri Rail, rode that for a few stops, then walked the rest of the way. The day was cloudy and hot, and I was thankful to be in a T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops instead of the school uniform and my sneakers.

  When we arrived, the other Americans were already there, along with their host siblings, which meant I’d get my chance to spend some time with Keiko. Even Kerri and Mary and Martha had come along.

  There wasn’t much to see out front of this “castle.” Just some sweet looking gray stone walls that had patches of fuzzy green moss growing all over them. I heard Arianna tell Wally that the castle was at the top of the hill.

  “Check it out!” Lukas was standing at a kiosk, holding up a cartoon map.

  They had them in several languages. I got an English one. It was a cartoon map of the park that said Shuri Castle Stamp Rally at the top. The map had a bunch of empty rectangles to stamp along the way to keep track of where you’d been.

  I read the instructions out loud. “‘Visitors can get a reward if they have completed either the red, blue, or yellow course, or have stamps twelve or more. This campaign is only for junior high school students or younger.’ Oh, come on! So unfair.”

  “I’m doing it anyway,” Lukas said.

  “Me too,” I said. “Which path are we taking? There’s a ‘See It All’ path, an ‘Express Course,’ or a ‘Take It Easy’ course.”

  “‘See It All,’” Mr. S said.

  “I’m in junior high,” Mary said to me, “so I can get the reward at the end.”

  “Share it with me?” I said.

  “No way!” But she smiled like it wouldn’t take much for me to twist her arm. And I would, if candy was involved.

  Once we all had our stamp maps, we approached the stone walls and a fancy gate. An archway was cut through the wall. On top, there was a bright red painted house with one of those traditional sloping red tile roofs. There was a pair of huge shisa dogs on either side of the gate. I swung an imaginary katana sword at them, imagining I was taking out some ugly beasties.

  “What are you doing?”

  I turned around. Grace was standing behind me, arms crossed, slouched in that “I’m too cool for this world” pose she wore so well. She was wearing a white Miami Heat T-shirt today that made me cringe every time I saw it.

  No reason to lie to the pixie. “Pretending I’m a samurai warrior, of course.”

  She rolled her eyes and slipped past me through the arch, which was practically a tunnel as thick as the walls were. On the other side, our group had found the first stamping station. It was a little desk with a roof on it. The stamp was at the bottom of a block of wood that was attached to the table with a ball chain. The ink was red. I stamped my little square for the gate, careful to make it all fit in the rectangle. Lukas stamped his upside down.

  “This gate was rebuilt in 1974 after having been burned during World War II,” Arianna said.

  “People died here?” I asked.

  “Part of the Battle of Okinawa took place here,” Arianna said. “It was the fourth time Shuri Castle was burned to the ground.”

  “Did you forget that we visited the Cornerstone of Peace monument at the Okinawa Prefecture Peace Park?” Wally said, the look on his face … Well, the dude was ticked off. “It lists the names of those who died during the Battle of Okinawa. It said that 149,193 Okinawan civilians, 77,166 Japanese soldiers, 14,009 US soldiers lost their lives and—”

  “Hey, man, sorry I don’t have a brain like a computer. I forgot, okay?”

  “Don’t ever forget, Spencer.” And he stalked ahead of us.

  “His great grandfather died here, in Northern Okinawa,” Arianna said, then ran after him.

  Well, I felt like a jerk. I knew World War II had been bad. Plus, the man who’d given us the tour of the monument the other day had repeatedly apologized to us, as if the whole war had been his fault. I’d thought it was weird at the time, but I guess war affected people even generations later. I wondered what my grandparents and great grandparents had been doing during World War II. At the rate I was getting answers to my past, I’d likely never even know who they were.

  And speaking of investigating mysteries … I marked Keiko’s location over by Isabel and went back to work. Our group moved on. We walked up a bunch of stone stairs and toward another gate. There were all kinds of people walking around in traditional kimonos. There was even a place to rent them if you wanted to take the tour in costume.

  Too hot for that. Though I wouldn’t mind getting myself one of those pointy straw hats.

  “I thought this was just a castle,” Lukas said.

  “True that,” I said. The place just kept going: paths and gates and stairs and gardens and more paths and more stairs and more gates. In the distance before us and behind, the red tops of the gates popped out above the gray spider-webbing stone walls and green trees. Pretty cool.

  “This was the largest castle in Okinawa,” Arianna said. “It was the center of the Ryukyu government for centuries until the Japanese government took control. The actual palace is at the very top.”

  Which explained all the stairs. I still thought it was weird that this huge place was smack dab in the middle of a massive city. It was so peaceful up in here. Naha’s version of Central Park, perhaps.

  We found two more gates on the stamp map: what Arianna called the “Stone Gates of Sonohyan-utaki” and “Shurei no mon.” Keiko found one of the stamping stations and ran over to it. When I caught up to her, she stamped her map, then pressed the wood block into the red ink pad again and offered to stamp my paper. Instead I pulled the sleeve of my T-shirt over my shoulder and tapped my bicep, flexing just enough to make myself look stronger. Keiko giggled and stamped my arm. We made a game of it, then, stamping each other in various places, which honestly didn’t get inappropriate at all. I promise I was good. Though it didn’t help me learn anything about her dad. It was a process, though, right? Get the girl to trust you, then use that trust to figure out what you needed to know?

  That’s what she’d been doing to me, right?

  We found the Bridge of the Nations bell, which was big enough that Lukas was able to stand inside it. We all knocked on the bell while he was in there, and he came out laughing. Then everyone had to try standing inside. I was too tall, of course.

  Finally, we got to the top, and the castle and courtyard came into view. The courtyard was as big as two basketball courts, side-by-side. The ground was striped—two-foot-wide red stripes had been painted across the courtyard, leaving the same size stripes of plain grey concrete in between. A perpendicular six-foot-wide stripe cut down the middle of the courtyard like the red carpet from the Oscars, leading up to the castle entrance.

  The main castle structure itself was a sprawling red building with stacked tile roofs like something out of Mulan. There were two dragon heads on the crest of the topmost roof, but I thought the whole thing looked like the face of a big dragon staring straight at me: the door the mouth, the little dragons on top its ears. When we got closer, I noticed two stone shisa dogs on either side of the entrance guarding the place.

  The girls oohed and ahhed and started taking pictures. I

  snapped a few on My Precious as well.

  “The appearance of dragons in the architecture is a sign of how China was once a bigger influence on Okinawa than Japan was,” I heard Wally tell Arianna.

  Mr. S paid for everyone to go inside the castle. We had to take off our shoes and carry them. Inside, the pillars and walls were all painted red-brown. We looked at a bunch of exhibits that were behind glass: antique pots, old kimonos, fancy wooden shoes, things like that. There was a whole room filled with calligraphy, black ink on white paper on huge gold scrolls. It was pretty sweet looking, even if I didn’t know what any of it said. There was a stamp station in tha
t room, so we all got caught up on our stamp map. Keiko and I both got stamps on our noses.

  We all headed for the stairs. I let the girls go first and ended up at the very back. Then, just as I started to climb, Mary showed up at my side.

  “Spencer,” she said in a tone like I should know what she was talking about. Then she poked my nose. “Nice stamps.”

  “For your information,” I said in a low voice, “I don’t trust Keiko, okay? She’s up to something and I’m trying to figure out what. So don’t start with me.”

  “Fine, I won’t.” And her accusatory tone vanished.

  We climbed the stairs and found our group standing in a hallway that was lined with sweet black and white drawings of all the different kings sitting on their thrones. Even though the dates were different, they all looked like the same guy to me.

  I found Keiko and we wove our way deeper into the building. It was cool in here, but I didn’t think it was air conditioned. The floor was hardwood, natural looking—no red-brown paint—and there were lots of shoji screens. I really liked the look of the light colored wood and the cream shoji screens. I think I’d like them in my house someday.

  The last place we went in the building was the throne room. It was painted in that red-brown color with gold and black accents.

  The king’s throne was a fancy chair painted in bright red and gold. It was sitting up on a shiny black platform with a pair of solid gold shisa dogs in front of it, one on each side. The wall and pillars around it were bright red and painted in blue and green and gold dragons and flowers and scrolls. Huge signs of gold kanji letters hung up behind the throne. There was even a sweet crown behind a glass wall, and the thing looked like it weighed fifty pounds.

  After the castle, we went back outside and walked around a fancy Japanese garden. There was a little house in the middle of a pond, and tons of ducks swimming. I had a great view of Naha City from up there. Plus I could see the ocean, the airport, and ships down in the port.

  We finally made it all the way through our stamp map. Mary and Martha were awarded sheets of stickers for completing it. Lukas and I tried to turn ours in, but the lady wouldn’t give us any. Not even my red hair seemed to impress her. But Mary gave me a sticker of a cartoon shisa dog, which I put on my shirt.

  From Shuri Castle we walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. I hoped they had some Kentucky Fried Tori. In the foyer, there were several dozen pairs of shoes lined up along both walls, and we had to leave our shoes there. I was used to doing it at houses and castles, but at a restaurant? Weird.

  The waitress led us to our table, which was only about two feet off the ground and surrounded by pillows. Apparently we were supposed to sit or kneel. There were three circular grills built into the table, each about three feet from the next. I parked myself right in front of one so I’d have easy access to whatever was cooking.

  Mr. S ordered—I didn’t even get a chance to ask for chicken. But I needn’t have worried. Jun said this place served yakiniku: Japanese barbecue. When they brought the food, it was plates and plates of raw meat and vegetables and mushrooms. And we got to cook it ourselves with tongs on the smokeless barbecues on the table, then put the meat on top of our bowls of rice. Meat-wise, there was chicken, pork, beef, fish, shrimp, calamari, and sausage.

  I was in heaven. Hog heaven. And I ate like it too.

  I was sorry to leave that restaurant but so happy to be stuffed for the first time since I’d left California. From the BBQ place, we split up into host family groups and my group started our walk to the Yuri Rail. Since the twins were with us, so were Arianna, Isabel, and Grace. But there was some confusion outside the restaurant. Kozue said she forgot something and ran back inside. Maybe she’d accidently put on the wrong shoes. We started walking without her.

  It was only six thirty—the sun would still be up for another hour. We walked one city block at a time, moving slowly, I guessed so Kozue would be able to catch up. I liked looking at all the shops we walked past. But I wasn’t sure where we were until a plane took off, straight ahead of me. Then we turned a corner, and I recognized the Yuri Rail in the distance, passing over a street, and that helped me get my bearings. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to find my own way around this city on my own, though.

  “Pensa-chan.” Keiko nudged my side.

  I smiled at the red stamp smudge on the end of her nose and really hoped she wasn’t pure evil. “Yes, Keiko-chan?”

  “Remember you said you would come to see my father’s boat. Want to see?”

  “Now?”

  “We are so close. Right over there is pier. It will only take a few minutes.”

  I frowned at that. It would be good to see this boat. Get some pictures of it for my report. But was this some kind of trick on her part? Or did she really want to show me the boat? Maybe she just wanted to be alone with me. My imagination instantly started blowing things out of proportion.

  Was it worth the risk? That was the question.

  But she smiled at me and tugged my hand, so I couldn’t help but smile back. It was probably a good thing that I was going back to America soon. Keiko was a bad influence on me.

  I glanced ahead at the others. We’d fallen behind. Jun, Arianna, and Isabel were a block ahead. Wally and Grace were closest. I texted Jun, keeping my phone out of Keiko’s view: Going with Keiko to see her dad’s boat. I’ll get pics. If I don’t come back soon, send help.

  “What are you guys doing?” Grace asked.

  I looked up and found Grace and Wally facing us. They must have walked back while I’d been texting.

  “Keiko and I are going to run over to the port and see her dad’s boat,” I said. “We’ll catch up to you guys in a minute.”

  “Trafficking poses a threat to maritime security on a daily basis,” Wally said. “It’s the most common type of maritime crime, be that in the form of drugs, humans, or exotic plants and animals. Trafficking starts and ends in ports.”

  “Nande?” Keiko asked.

  I shook my head to shush her. “Thanks, Wally. We’ll be careful.” I urged Keiko to go before Wally said anything else. She took off running, pulling me along beside her.

  Jun texted back: Hai hai. Be careful.

  Good plan.

  Two blocks later we turned onto a road I recognized. It was the road that led to the Naminoue Beach where we’d ridden banana boats and I’d chased Bushi on the motor scooter. This time we walked right past the beach and kept going. I stopped and pretended to take a picture of beach but really snapped a pic of the street sign. I couldn’t read it, but Toda-san would be able to. I forwarded the picture to Jun.

  As we neared the port, I could see the masts of boats in the sky, dark against the bright colors of the setting sun. “Does your dad’s boat have a name like The Black Pearl or Red October?”

  “Hai. Is called Dragon Star.”

  “Ooh. Sweet name.” Not one I’d forget, either, but I should get a pic of that too.

  The port wasn’t at all what I’d expected. I’d been thinking of the marinas back home with wooden piers and booths to buy ice cream or cotton candy. This place was vacant concrete filled with commercial fishing boats. The Dragon Star was a fishing boat?

  Keiko led me down the concrete pier. The place was deserted. We passed one rusty old tugboat after another. They were the size of four city busses parked two-by-two. Big and ugly. We passed by the sixth one and came upon something very different. There, sandwiched between two rusty tubs, bobbing on the teal water, sat the Dragon Star. It was sleek and clean, white with a bright green hull. It looked like a lime sitting next to a field of barnacled shoeboxes. I bet it was fast.

  “Sweet,” I said, taking a picture with my phone. I zoomed in and took a second picture of the boat’s name and forwarded both to Jun.

  A white roof covered the cockpit, and a navy blue canvas cover snapped over the back end. A swim platform hung off the very back, and two Jet Skis were tethered there. Sammy’s dad had a boat like this. Hi
s was a Sea Ray Sundancer. I wondered what kind this was.

  Keiko stepped off the pier and onto the swim platform. The boat bobbed a bit under her weight. She unsnapped one side of the canvas cover, stepped over into the back, and waved me to follow.

  I didn’t see anyone on the boat. But Sammy’s dad’s boat had a cabin downstairs, so there could be someone below. I’d already gotten my pictures of the boat, so there was probably nothing else in there that would help my case against Keiko or her dad.

  Yet there was still the microscopic chance she was a victim in all this. I mean, even if her dad had told her to get my journal, her crush on me could be real. My journal was still in the high school library, so there was no danger of her getting that. And between Mr. Sloan, Jun, and my necklace, I had enough guardian angels to save my hide if things went bad. Didn’t I?

  I mean, what if she really only brought me here so she could have her way with me?

  I texted Jun: Getting on the boat. Don’t see anyone.

  I didn’t like how the boat had moved when Keiko had gotten on, and I was three times her size. I pocketed My Precious, squatted on the pier, and reached one leg over to the swim platform, keeping my hands on the concrete. I shifted my weight slowly, and once I was certain the boat wasn’t going to capsize with my weight, I pushed myself up and brought over my other leg. Then I grabbed the little half wall between the swim platform and the back and stepped over. I didn’t like standing on a boat like this. At least not where I could fall off.

  Once I got both legs in, I ducked under the sagging cover and into the rear section of the boat. There was a white L-shaped bench along the left and back side. Keiko was up in the cockpit, so I ducked my head and went further inside. The ceiling was low, six foot four, maybe. The button on the top of my Lakers cap dragged along the roof, so I hunched down.

  The cockpit had a bench seat on the left side too. Keiko was sitting there, smiling at me. The driver’s seat was a cushioned swivel chair that sat separately on the right in front of a panel of controls and a wooden steering wheel.

  I pointed at the captain’s chair. “Can I sit there?”

 

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