The Book of the Heart

by Carrie Asai

  The cab zipped around the corner. The driver craned his neck around to look at us. “Where are you going?”

  I looked at Hiro, my eyebrows raised in question.

  “I know someone who can help us get out of the country,” Hiro said, his voice still quivering. “She can get us back to the States.”

  “We’re going back to the States?”

  Hiro muttered something to the driver in a quiet voice that I couldn’t hear. I gripped the side of the car. The cabdriver jerked the car forward, driving out of Shinjuku, nearly running over a line of drunk teenage tourists who were staggering across the street.

  “Hold up. What did you tell him?” I said angrily.

  He took my hands. “There’s something important I have to tell you. A reason why I might be able to help. And the reason why you should go back to the States.”

  The cab jerked to a nauseating halt. “Look, I don’t know if I want to go back with—”

  “It’s your mother. Your…your birth mother.”

  My head shot up.

  He nodded. “I’ve found something out. I couldn’t tell you back there on Masato’s property, but…I think I know where she is.”

  “My birth mother?” I said. My voice was raw. Suddenly my palms went slick with sweat. What was he talking about? “What do you…?”

  The cab turned a corner, taking us out of Shinjuku. The sun was just beginning to climb in the sky. The terrain looked gorgeous—green and peaceful.

  My birth mother? Was Hiro on crack? Was this a trap?

  Hiro cleared his throat. “I found some documents in my father’s desk. I don’t know how he got ahold of them, but perhaps he got them from Yoji Yukemura since he…uh…works for him now. Or maybe Yoji got them from your father somehow; I don’t know. It could be a bribe or something.

  “But anyway, it’s information about you. Or rather, about your birth mother. The information was very cryptic, and there wasn’t a name, just ‘female,’ living in the San Diego area, with a certain amount of money next to her name.”

  “San Diego?” I croaked. “Are you sure?”

  Hiro grabbed my hand. “We can go and find her,” he said. “Isn’t this something you’ve always wondered about?”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, a little snappishly. “But how do you know this isn’t, like, a setup or something?” My heart beat quickly. My birth mother. In San Diego all this time, and I had no idea. I could have gone to her instead….

  Hiro looked me in the eye. “I’m not lying to you. I can see you’re skeptical. But really, I’m not making this up.” His expression got very cryptic. “My father confirmed it as well.”

  “He did?” How did all of Tokyo know about my birth mother except me?

  “Yes,” Hiro said. “Now will you let me help you?”

  I quivered. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I asked. I didn’t know whether to be angry or excited. I was still pumped from our standoff in Kabukicho. My legs were still shaking.

  “Because…” Hiro stopped. “We needed to be somewhere quieter. Not on the street. Not running.” He waved his hand around him, indicating that the cab was somewhere “quieter.” Up front the driver yammered on his cell phone and continued to drive in a jerky, stop-start fashion. A pine-scented tree hung from his rearview mirror, but the air smelled more like sweat than pine.

  “Wow,” I said. “I’m having a little trouble believing this.”

  “Well, believe it,” Hiro said. He took my hand. It felt warm, just as I remembered. I was about to pull away, but the hand felt comforting. My pulse began to race again.

  “So you see?” he went on. “Doesn’t the States make sense now?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But how do we know she wants me to find her?”

  “She will,” Hiro said. His eyes glazed over with what looked like love. I swallowed hard.

  “I had an idea yesterday of how we could get out of the country,” he said after a little while. “Yokosuka U.S. Navy Base. I know someone who can help us there. That’s where I told the cabdriver to go. It’s about seventy miles from here.”

  “The U.S. Navy?” I repeated. “As in aircraft carriers and people doing a lot of marching and chanting and…and bazookas?”

  “I know someone who might be able to smuggle us on a boat back to San Diego. It’ll be dangerous, because they’ll have to sneak us on the boat and then into the country. But I know someone who might take that risk. Hopefully she won’t have shipped out somewhere else by now.”

  “She?” My eyebrows raised.

  “Yes, a friend from home.”

  “If only we could do something normal, like take a commercial plane,” I murmured. “JAL, back to San Diego.”

  “No planes,” Hiro said softly.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  It was our old banter. Then I remembered. My world was upside down. I had a birth mother who was alive. And Hiro knew every yakuza thug in Kabukicho.

  The cab sped through the dark streets of Tokyo, heading for points north, an old kabuki theater broadcast quietly playing on the radio. I settled back into the seat. The clanging kabuki drums made my head ring. Hiro’s hand still rested on top of mine, warm and comforting. I didn’t know if I wanted to pull my hand away or not.

  Soon we were driving along miles and miles of coastline. Hiro and I had settled into a silence. My hand now rested on my lap, and Hiro kept his hands to himself. I stole a quick glance at him.

  What was going on in his mind? I had to believe he was telling the truth about my mother. I snuck another look at him. His jawline was so sexy.

  I flinched.

  And then it hit me. I wasn’t over this guy. I still had feelings for him. Despite not trusting him. Despite hating him. Despite everything.

  We rolled up to what I guessed was the navy base entrance. Two Americans sat in a little hut at the front. One of them came out of the gate. Whoa, I thought. That’s quite an Uzi slung around his back.

  “I thought this was peacetime,” I muttered.

  Hiro got out of the car and started talking to the guy. The driver grumbled in the front, unsure of where we were. I realized how dumb this was. Why would this guy let us inside? Weren’t military bases like super-secure?

  They allowed Hiro inside the little hut; he picked up a telephone and started to speak into it. I shifted in my seat, thinking. There had been a moment back there when I’d seriously thought Hiro was in on a plot to kill me or something. Why had I thought that? Was it just paranoia?

  I wondered briefly what Masato was doing. Was Tokyo under lockdown, looking for me? Were those air raid sirens sounding again?

  Did my birth mother really live in San Diego?

  I looked around. I could smell the ocean, but I couldn’t see it. The only things visible were the little huts. A concrete path extended past the huts but disappeared into the trees. To my right and left was scrubby grass and shrubs. A sign that said No Trespassing. No snipers at treetops, guns poised. Just that one buzz-cut, skinny kid with the Uzi and the other guy in the hut.

  Hiro came back to the car and stuck his head in the window. “We’re in.”

  “You’re kidding,” I said.

  Hiro explained that he’d called his friend, Melissa Martin, who was stationed here but originally from L.A. She could be our ticket out of Japan. Hiro handed the cabby some money and he drove away. We stood in front of the hut, apparently waiting for something.

  “So…is she coming to get us?” I asked. The Uzi guy glared at me.

  “Yes,” Hiro said, not making eye contact.

  “Are we leaving today?” I whispered.

  “Shhh,” Hiro said. The Uzi guy sighed loudly.

  A dusty jeep rolled up to the entrance. Driving was a tiny girl in a tan uniform. She waved at Hiro. He waved back. Hiro pulled on my arm and led me to the backseat. He nudged me to climb in. The car had barely stopped. Then quickly he himself went around to the front seat. Jeep girl pulled him over to her side, let out a li
ttle squeal, and gave him a gigantic hug.

  Whoa.

  She broke away and turned to the guards. “I’ll take them from here, Kyle,” she said loudly in a tough voice to the Uzi guy. He nodded, scowling now.

  “Where are we going?” I asked cautiously.

  “Getting you out of sight,” she said in a rushed, no-non-sense tone. She glanced at me briefly. “I’m Melissa.”

  She looked a little like an elf—she couldn’t have been more than five-foot two. Her nose, cheeks, ears, and hands were tiny. Her hair was long, blond, and curly and draped down her back. But even though she was small, she drove crazily. Way too fast, taking turns quickly and dangerously.

  “So we need to get out of here as soon as possible,” Hiro said. “I know that this isn’t something you normally do, but if there’s any chance…”

  Melissa wrinkled her nose. “I could get dishonorably discharged. I could lose my college fund. At the very least I could be demoted and fined.” She smiled a tight smile.

  I raised my eyebrow, in the backseat.

  “But for you,” Melissa said, her hand now on Hiro’s knee, “I’ll do this.”

  “Thanks,” Hiro said.

  Interesting.

  Melissa’s eyes flickered briefly to me in the rearview mirror. Then they settled back on Hiro. “Are you wanted by the police?”

  He grimaced. “Not exactly.”

  “Care to explain?”

  “I…I can’t,” Hiro said. He twiddled his thumbs quickly, a habit he had when he was nervous. “I mean, you know….”

  “Yeah, sure. Same old danger,” Melissa said after a tense pause. I wondered how much she knew about Hiro’s past.

  She took a sharp turn, nearly tipping over the jeep. “I know one guy who will sneak you on board. But he won’t be on the sub himself. You’re going to have to stay hidden. I can also provide you with some food. The trip will take about four days. I can get you water at least. Probably more. Granola bars, maybe. Cereal.”

  “Hold up,” I said. “Did you say sub? As in submarine?”

  “Yeah,” Melissa huffed. Hiro turned back to me, his mouth a straight line, his eyes cautious.

  “I was thinking we’d go on a boat or something,” I said quietly. “Like, you know, aboveground.”

  “You want to be incognito,” Melissa said, her voice angry. “How could you be incognito on a ship? Were you thinking like a sailboat or something?”

  “Jeez, settle down,” I whispered.

  “It makes the most sense,” Hiro said.

  I sighed. “All right,” I said. I had to remember why we were going. My mother.

  We pulled into a parking lot that was in front of a long, one-story building. Next to it was a basketball court. Melissa jumped out of the jeep. Hiro followed. I crawled out slowly, feeling dizzy. I hadn’t eaten in a million years. As soon as my feet hit the ground, my knees buckled, and my vision went spotty.

  “Whoa,” I heard Hiro say. Then I felt strong hands under my armpits hoisting me back up. I struggled to open my eyes. I thought it was Hiro lifting me, but it turned out to be Melissa. She was strong.

  “Low blood sugar,” Melissa said to Hiro. My body felt hot, then cold. “She needs to eat something.”

  Hiro ran over and held me around my waist. Melissa fetched something from her jeep. She put it to my lips. It was a can of Coke. I let the warm liquid run down my throat. I felt a little better and stood up straight.

  “I can make you something in my apartment,” Melissa said. She looked right and left. The place was deserted. The parking lot was full of jeeps; the basketball court off to the side of the building was empty. Then again, it was only five-thirty on a Sunday morning.

  “Come on,” Melissa said, taking Hiro’s arm. “Before anyone sees us.”

  We quickly ran into the squat building and walked halfway down a long corridor. The place was dark and depressing. “The sub deploys in about six hours,” Melissa whispered to us over her shoulder. “I know that Andy will help sneak you guys on, and he can contact someone in San Diego to get you off, but I think you’ll be on your own after that.”

  “What did you tell the guards?” I asked. “Won’t they come looking for us?”

  “The guards and I have an understanding,” Melissa said brusquely.

  She unlocked the door to her suite and ushered us inside. “We shouldn’t turn on many lights,” she said. She snapped on a tiny light over the stove and stuck her head into the fridge. I walked around the apartment. The interior was about as drab and uninspired as the outside. Standard-issue couch, coffee table, a radio sitting on a cardboard box, a pile of what looked like workout clothes in the corner. Through an open door I saw her bed, rumpled and unmade. I sat down tentatively on the couch, trying to adjust my eyes to the dim blue light.

  Melissa quickly started cracking eggs. The smell of them at first made me woozy, but then I realized I was starving. While Hiro was in the bathroom, I fidgeted. I didn’t know what to say. She seemed so standoffish. It was almost as if Hiro hadn’t told her on the phone at the gate that there would be someone with him. It seemed also that maybe they’d had something once.

  “So how do you know Hiro?” I asked, my voice coming out creaky and small.

  “Here.” She walked over and handed me a large glass of orange juice. I gratefully drank it.

  “Hiro helped me back in L.A.,” she said, turning back to the stove.

  “Really?” I said. “You’re from L.A.?” I tried to figure out how old she was. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen.

  “Yeah,” she said gruffly. “I was dating someone who was totally bad news. He was in a gang—real trouble. Then he started stalking me. He’d make these really awful phone calls to my house and follow me around everywhere. It got to be totally creepy.”

  She stuck two slices of bread in the toaster. “At one point he cornered me. He had a knife. Luckily, I’d just hung out with Hiro. He’d sensed something wrong with the situation and wasn’t far from my house. When he heard me scream, he came running back.”

  “It wasn’t really like that,” Hiro said, walking in from the bathroom.

  “You’re too modest,” Melissa said, giving him a majorly flirty push. “After that kind of fright, I decided to join the military. Get strong. Protect myself. A little extreme, I know, but I wanted to be in control of my situation. Plus I give four years to the navy and they’re gonna let me go to college for free.”

  I shot Hiro a suspicious look. How long could this have been before my wedding, before I’d showed up on his doorstep? Was he saving damsels in distress left and right?

  God, I was catty. I was trying my hardest to not be in love with Hiro. Melissa handed me a plate of eggs, toast, and sausage. I thanked her, but she’d already turned back to Hiro. I took a huge bite of the eggs and closed my eyes. It felt so good to eat. I started shoveling everything else in quickly. Melissa glanced at me and wrinkled her nose.

  “Where have you traveled so far?” Hiro asked in a quiet voice.

  “All over,” Melissa said. “Russia, Kuwait, all over the Mediterranean. They love selling the navy people rugs in some of those Middle Eastern countries.”

  “Rugs?”

  “Yeah. Weird, huh? But they’re handmade.”

  “You’re looking well,” Hiro said as he spooned some eggs onto his plate.

  “Yeah, this has been good for me,” she said firmly, taking a large, crackly bite out of her toast.

  Then there was a knock on the door. We froze.

  Melissa glared at us. “Into the bedroom,” she whispered. “Quick. Hide.”

  Hiro and I scurried into the bedroom and dove under her bed. I got a mouthful of dust and tried my hardest not to sneeze.

  “She’s friendly,” I whispered to Hiro in a sarcastic tone of voice.

  “At least she’s helping us,” Hiro hissed.

  From my spot under the bed I had a good view of Melissa’s foyer. I watched as she quickly put o
ur plates in the fridge and walked over to open the door. Light flooded in. It was the Uzi guy from the front gate. He looked over Melissa’s shoulder into the room. “Those people who are visiting you,” he said. “Where are they?”

  “They’re walking around the grounds, Kyle,” Melissa said casually. “I told them I was tired and we’d get breakfast later.”

  A pause. I held my breath. Some agreement she had with the front guards.

  “What’s that on the counter?” he boomed.

  “I got hungry,” Melissa said. “Did a lot of running yesterday.”

  A silence lasted for a minute or so.

  “All right,” the Uzi guy finally said. “I got a call from the captain saying no visitors today. Probably because of the launch. So when they get back, you’ll have to escort them out, okay?”

  “Of course,” Melissa said. “No problem.”

  I saw the guy look around the room once more. Then she shut the door behind him and walked into the bedroom. “Hey,” she whispered after a few moments. “He’s gone. You can come out.”

  I crawled out; dust bunnies were stuck to my legs.

  “We gotta get you on that sub now,” Melissa said. “I need to contact Andy quickly.”

  “Who’s Andy?” Hiro inquired.

  “Well, let’s just say that he and I go way back,” she replied slyly.

  “Is that so?” Hiro replied.

  Why was he taking such an interest in this?

  “If you must know, he asked me to marry him a while back and I told him I couldn’t. I was still getting over someone else,” she said while staring deeply into Hiro’s eyes.

  “Can we trust him?” I asked, trying to get her to stop gazing at Hiro.

  “He’s the only one who’ll be able to get you out of here in one piece,” Melissa said, walking back to the kitchen. She stuck her head in the fridge again and pulled out a big jug of distilled water. “You’re going to need some supplies,” she said, shoving it at me.

  She pulled down a box of cereal and a jar of peanut butter. “Here. This will keep you alive for four days, at least.”

  Then we hustled out of her room and ducked down the narrow corridor. Hiro and I walked quickly behind, a little dazed. Melissa approached a door at the end of the hall and started to pound on it.