The Daydreamer Detective Returns a Favor

by S. J. Pajonas

  Grabbing the giant flashlight, I knocked the end against the dining room wall. It was a stretch for me to reach it, but the knocks were firm and loud.

  “We’re in the dining room! Take the shutters off the window!”

  Goro swore on the other side, but it was a compassionate and relieved swear. “Thank Buddha you’re still alive. My mom would’ve killed me if something happened to you. Hold on!”

  “What’s going on?” Yuna asked, sitting up with a yawn. “Is someone here?”

  “I think we’re being rescued,” I said, a smile widening my face.

  The house protested as Goro and whoever was with him pried the typhoon shutters off and let in the weak light of dawn. I gasped when I saw him because I wasn’t prepared to see him in fly-fishing waders up to his chest and water not that far below him. The water level outside was higher than it was inside and the bottom portion of the window held back hundreds of liters of dirty, brown floodwaters. But Goro shimmied off the window anyway and let more water in. Might as well.

  “Look at what we have here. Morning,” he said, his wry smile making me laugh despite the situation. Next to him, other police officers, men I didn’t know, worked to pry more of the typhoon shutters off. They must have called in reinforcements from other prefectures to help.

  Beyond Goro, a small gray boat most people used for fishing puttered and waited for us with Akiko looking on. Kirin-chan whined in her portable carrier next to her.

  “Thank goodness,” Akiko said, blowing out a big breath. “My house stayed dry, but that was about it,” she called out. “I’m lucky that my house is on a hill. But my car is totaled, I have no electricity, and my plumbing stopped working about five hours ago.” She looked disheveled and weary, and I assumed we were the same. “Kayo-san’s going to take me in until the floods recede, and we get power back.”

  “And you all are expected back home. My mother is worried sick.” Goro held out his hand to me, but I waved him off.

  “Take Yuna-ko and the boys first. We have valuables too, over on the couch.”

  “Mei-chan, you’re pregnant,” he insisted.

  “I’m well aware. Take Yuna-ko and the boys first. I’m not leaving without Mom and my husband.”

  He sighed, and I felt sure that someone back at the station, probably Kayo, gave him strict instructions on “women and children first, plus pregnant ladies.”

  Yuna gathered up their belongings, and Goro and the men made a delivery chain outside to pass the bags to the boat. Then each of the boys and Yuna got a piggyback ride out. I waved goodbye to them all and Akiko as they puttered off toward town.

  “It should take about twenty minutes round trip, so hold tight,” Goro said, wading past us. “I’ll retrieve your belongings.”

  As I watched Goro make his way into the flooded house, I gave Mom a giant hug.

  “Mom, I’m so sorry about the house. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Neither do I.” She glanced around forlornly, her forehead pinched.

  “Let’s not say anything until we figure out how bad off we are,” Yasahiro suggested.

  It warmed my heart to hear how Yasahiro still considered this our situation. It wasn’t Mom’s hardship. It was ours.

  Goro moved the belongings we were saving to the dining room table as we waited for the boat to return. Though the storm had passed, the air outside still held the late summer moisture hostage and the clouds raced by. The sun tried to climb out of its bed for the night, and I yawned in response.

  “What time is it?” I asked Goro as he piled the last of the garbage bags on the table.

  “Six-forty, or thereabouts. We mobilized around four once the majority of the storm passed.” He whistled. “It was quite a doozy. Biggest typhoon this area has seen in almost a hundred years. It strengthened to a category two right before landfall, so it had a lot of wind and rain saved up to dump on us. Wait till you see the center of town.” He shook his head, and I swallowed, wishing I had a hot cup of coffee and something to eat. I was feeling nauseous for the first time since my first trimester.

  “Well, while we wait for the boat to come back, tell us about town,” Mom politely demanded.

  Goro’s mouth twisted to the side. “The good news is that Sawayaka is fine. Water managed to get in the front, but the main dining area and kitchen are dry. Ana is there now with anyone who could come in. Oshabe-cha and your building are on a slight hill, so that whole neighborhood was spared, I’m happy to say. Our condo is also fine as is Kutsuro Matsu. But electricity is out town-wide, and many sewage systems are backed up by the sheer amount of water that came down.” He wiped his face with a handkerchief he pulled out of his shirt pocket from beneath the waders. “Manholes all over town are gushing water. It’s a mess. Train service has been suspended even.”

  “Wow. I don’t remember the last time train service was suspended to this area.” The damage must be particularly severe to have that happen.

  I kept quiet for a few minutes while Mom asked after Goro’s mom, Chiyo, Kumi, and Taiga. They were all fine and worried about us, but otherwise unharmed. But in the back of my mind, Ria sat there tapping her foot. What about her?

  Out the window, the boat was returning to take us to dry land.

  “So…” I started slowly, drawing out the word. “Watanabe.”

  Goro turned around and raised his eyebrows at me. “You must have some sixth sense for these things, Mei-chan. He ran.”

  “Ran?” I exchanged glances with Yasahiro.

  “I don’t know if he figured that this was the best time for an escape or what, but he took off, first with the police car and then on his own. We have police in from Tokyo tracking him down.”

  I looked out past the approaching boat to the drowned fields beyond Akiko’s house. Ria was out there somewhere, now almost lost to the floods and mud of the typhoon.

  “What did you tell the chief?” I asked him, eager for any news.

  “Everything I could remember from you — that the kids saw him out there and you found a dead body where he had been. That’s about it. If anything, they want to talk to him about deserting his post and leaving you all in danger. But I know in my gut” — Goro jabbed himself with his index finger — “that no one runs unless they’re guilty of something. And he’s always struck me as the guilty type. He was constantly asking about you, what you knew of Tama-chan’s case, and a bunch of other things. I always thought it was just morbid curiosity. Now I see it was much worse.”

  We worked in silence, loading the boat up with our valuables. Mom got a piggyback ride to the boat from one of the other officers, and I rode on Goro’s back. It struck me that this was not the first time he had done this for me. He’d carried me when I was injured after going after Amanda’s murderer.

  Yasahiro refused to be carried. He got in the water and helped rearrange everything so we’d all fit.

  “Wait a second,” he said, raising his finger in the air. He waded back inside and reappeared a moment later with my painting, the one that had hung in the dining room for over ten years. My eyes watered as he handed it to me and climbed in.

  “I always loved this one.”

  I thought I had been all cried out, but tears filled my eyes as we pulled away from the house.

  “Oh, Mom,” I groaned, doubled over. “I’m so sorry. Look what’s happened to our home.”

  I reached over and took Mom’s hand between my own. If we hadn’t been in the boat, I would’ve hugged her.

  “I know I’ve been an awful daughter, and I never told you how much this place has meant to me.”

  “Mei-chan,” Yasahiro whispered behind me, but I shook my head at him.

  “Nothing in the world means more to me than this house and this land. This is where I grew up and where I wanted to grow old.” I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I have faint memories of Dad eating in the kitchen. I remember wearing my first party dress in the dining room with Akiko-chan. And I wanted to have all those same memorie
s with my kids there. I figured you didn’t want to be separated from your family as you got older, and this would’ve been our chance to help make up for all the trouble I caused last winter. I’m sorry you felt like you had to go to Hirata for help.” I squeezed her hand as she stared at me. “I’m absolutely devastated by what’s happened this week and now.”

  Shamed by having Goro witness my breakdown in the boat, I bent over and pressed my forehead to our clasped hands. Mom smoothed out my hair and kissed the top of my head.

  “Mei-chan, I had no idea you felt so strongly about the house.”

  I sobbed a little louder and then sucked in a quick breath to stop it.

  “I’m… I’m sorry things worked out this way,” Mom said, leaning by my ear.

  I waited for the excuse, the excuse that always followed an apology from Mom, but it didn’t come.

  “Sit up and look at me.” Mom tugged on our joined hands, so I sat up. “Your husband here is a good man, and he stuck up for you when you needed it. I had no right to be so harsh with you. I thought about it all night, and” — she turned her head from me, ashamed — “I was wrong about the things I said. You haven’t wanted a convenient life; you just wanted a fair one. Yuna-ko reminded me of all the pain you’ve gone through, and still, you help people. That’s something to be proud of.”

  Mom nodded as she patted my cheeks.

  “I’m not sure what will happen with the house and the land now, but I promise to be kinder to you.” She turned to look at Yasahiro. “I promise.”

  He smiled kindly. “We love you, Mom. We’ll make it through this.”

  I glanced at Goro with embarrassed eyes, but he smiled back, his words from the other day echoing in my head. “We love our families, but nothing is more important than being happy with your role in the universe… Your mother needs a push in the right direction.” Too bad that push had to be the size of a category two typhoon.

  The boat ran aground about a hundred meters from the gas station on the edge of town where the land rose enough to keep the waters from the lower farm fields at bay. I was grateful to see friendly faces from the police station and other volunteers from in town helping load up vans with our belongings. Akiko waited for us, sitting on the open end of a van and drinking a hot cup of coffee. Kirin-chan was asleep in the carrier next to her. As I waved to Akiko, she grabbed another cup for me.

  I let the others unload the boat and went to sit beside her. She handed me the steaming cup of coffee, rich with cream and sugar, and I decided today was my day for a little indulgence. I deserved it after last night.

  Akiko sighed as she looked out at the water leading away to our side of town.

  “I just spoke with Senahara-san. They picked him up this morning before me.” Senahara was our only other neighbor out in the farmlands beyond town, and he had saved Akiko and me from burning in the barn last year. “He’s selling to Midori Sankaku. They offered to buy his house and land a month ago, and supposing they still want it in this state, he’s going to sell it to them.”

  I pursed my lips and nodded. “That’s probably the smart thing to do. He’s getting old, and a smaller place would be better for him.”

  “He said he’ll get an apartment in the assisted living place on the north side of town. He’ll make enough from Midori Sankaku to pay for the place until he passes. His words, not mine,” she said, holding her hands up. I was sure I was a shade paler than usual. I hated talking about death. There was too much of it between my elderly patients and the murder cases the last year.

  “So, here’s where I tell you, I’m going to sell my house and land too if I can get Midori Sankaku to buy it.” Akiko winced and pulled back from me, freezing in place. Did she think I was going to attack her? Instead, I sighed and deflated.

  “I think it’s a good idea. You fought hard for the land and what you deserved, but…”

  “But it’s too full of bad memories and now” — she dropped her voice — “there may be a dead body out back.”

  “There is a dead body out back. I saw it for myself, and I’m pretty sure it’s Ria-chan.”

  Akiko’s jawline tightened. “I just know I’m going to be called in for questioning on this.”

  “We’ll see,” I replied. The killer, as far as I was concerned, was on the run and guilty as the day was long. “Where will you move to?”

  “The other side of town, if I can swing it. I’d like to buy a small house or a condo, and there are some being renovated for the new Midori Sankaku workers moving here. I’ll have to ask about them.”

  This would mean Mom would be the only one left on this side of town. I didn’t like the idea of her and Yuna and the kids out there all alone, and then I remembered the house. My heart ached knowing it was unsalvageable. What would Hirata say when we told him what had happened?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The ride through town was disheartening. Overnight, Chikata had become a veritable dystopia of damage and decay. Several buildings were missing their roofs, the clay tiles smashed in the streets. Tree limbs and leaves cluttered the sidewalks, and people were cutting them to pieces with gardening shears. Looking down one side street, water gushed from a manhole and men hefted sandbags around it to direct the water away from the buildings. We even passed an NHK reporter, live on the scene, interviewing someone in front of her business that was soaked with floodwaters.

  Sickness bubbled up inside of me, wondering how long it would take to recover, but then we turned the corner to our street and a TEPCO van, its bucket extended to the electricity pole, was repairing the power lines up and down the street. Someday they would have to bury them to prevent this from happening, but the town never had money for that sort of thing before. Maybe the power would be back on soon.

  I sighed in relief when we pulled up to Oshabe-cha and the apartment. The streets and sidewalks were wet, but everything appeared to be okay. The whole block felt quiet without electricity, but people stood outside talking or sweeping. Once the power came back, everything would return to normal.

  “See? All good here. But you’ll want to check your roof,” Goro said, as he parked the van and unlocked the doors. One of the other police officers popped out and opened the door for me, offering his hand to help me out. I accepted, grateful for the assistance. Sleeping on top of a dining room table, almost twenty weeks pregnant, hadn’t been comfortable or restful. I was dead tired.

  “This is where you live?” Yuna asked, and I realized she had never been to Yasahiro’s place or ever visited the tea shop.

  “Yeah, come inside. We’ll get you and the boys a futon soon.” I glanced past Yuna to Mom, and Mom nodded at me.

  “I’ll go to Chiyo-san’s house with Mimoji-chan,” she said, which I saw coming a hundred kilometers away. She and Chiyo were inseparable.

  Goro tried to hide a sigh. “The more, the merrier,” he mumbled. Chiyo, Goro, Kumi, and Taiga all lived together in one condo. It was a decent size place (palatial compared to Tokyo) but not a house. They would be climbing the walls before long. “Everybody be sure to rest and bathe. I’ll be back later to help out.”

  We said goodbye at the door as the vans drove off. Yuna watched them go with her arms crossed and a worried look on her face.

  “I don’t want us to be a bother to you, Yasa-kun, Mei-chan.” Yuna picked up as many bags as she could carry.

  “You won’t be a bother.” Yasahiro opened the door for us all. “We’re happy to help.”

  “I…” Yuna’s voice sputtered to a stop as she grasped my arm. “We should talk.”

  “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “It can wait.” I figured she wanted to convince us she and the boys wouldn’t stay long, that Hirata would be back to help, etcetera, but she shook her head vehemently.

  “No. We need to talk now.”

  The sun crested the tops of the buildings in the East as we opened up the apartment. Without the air conditioning on, the place was stuffy and warm, so we slid open a few windows and let the so
ft breezes leftover from the typhoon clear out the stale air.

  “It’s a beautiful apartment,” Yuna said, bowing as she entered and ushered the boys inside. “Don’t touch anything,” she whispered to them, but I waved my hand in response.

  “Boys, don’t worry about anything. Claim a spot on the couch, and we’ll cook up some breakfast before a very early nap time.”

  They both nodded and dragged themselves to the couch.

  Yuna chewed on her lip as she set her bag on the table. “How long do you think we’ll be here?”

  Yasahiro and I eyed each other before he excused himself to what he did best, cooking.

  “I’m not sure. We can house you here for as long as necessary, but I think you’ll find the space cramped for all of us. We’ll have to look for temporary housing until…” I thought about it for a moment. “Well, until we figure out what to do about the house.”

  “Right. The house.”

  We both sat across from each other at the table.

  “Let’s face it,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “The house is a complete loss. Not only did we lose it, but we also lost a good deal of produce for the winter. I’m not sure how we’ll come back now. I’ve lived through lean winters, and this would beat them all, especially without a house.”

  I was emotionally dried up and worn out. I couldn’t even cry anymore. Confessing to Mom and having us patch things up had taken every last bit of strength I had.

  Yuna ran her fingers through her hair. “I haven’t spoken to Hirata yet, but…”

  She stopped again, and irritation warred with sympathy in my head.

  “What is it, Yuna-ko?”

  “The loan wasn’t final yet. It still needed two more weeks and an inspection before it was finalized.”

  I groaned and rested my head on the table.

  “There’s no way the bank will approve the loan now. And our house hasn’t sold yet either. We moved some items here, but the rest are back in Chiba.”

  I almost laughed, but I kept it in. The sheer unfairness of the situation and what we had already been through broke down any last bit of politeness I’d stored up in me.