by David Connor
Kyoko sighed. “You have led an interesting life—what with Milo’s father first, and then my coming out…”
“And Billy…”
“Rika!” Billy’s pale skin reddened as Kyoko continued to titter, which stretched out the rest of her pronouncement.
“I suppose we have exceeded the ten percent standard, and it is no wonder you now see a sexual orientation plot twist at every turn.” She inhaled deeply—twice—and then went on. “No one is transitioning, Erika. Midori is a journalist. She is doing an in-depth report on gender dysphoria. That is how I knew what I did. That is why we are here and why I thought it would be good for Jesse to consider coming here when he is ready.”
“Oh.”
“I promise you.” She still had a difficult time keeping a straight face. “The shocking developments are over. At least from me. From now on, we just live. Now then,” Kyoko focused on Etsuko, “let me talk to my magomusume.”
They chatted another forty minutes, often in Japanese, with Erika translating for Jesse and Billy anything that they might be interested in hearing. Just as they were about to sign off, Tom Alan got a phone call. “It’s Milo. I’ll put him on speaker. Hey you.”
“Hi, Milo!” The rest of the voices rang out like a chorus.
“Dada.” Etsuko bounced up and down as Billy held her at the waist.
“Quite a greeting,” Milo said. “Guess where I am.”
“Umm…D.C.?”
“Closer, Skater Boy.”
“Philly?” Billy guessed.
“Someplace great…closer to New York,” Milo said.
“Jersey.” That was Erika’s guess.
“Bloody Yanks. I’m in Westchester County. Surprise! I got out early and hopped the first train I could.”
“Sweet! I missed you so much. Where are you exactly?” Tom Alan asked.
“Second to last stop. We just now pulled out. I’m only twenty minutes away. Can you come get me?”
“You bet I’ll come.”
“So, Hockey Puck’s picking us up?”
“Pig,” Billy said.
“On speaker,” Erika reminded them both. “With Mother.”
“Hello, Kyoko.”
“Hello, Milo.”
“I’ll leave right now,” Tom Alan said. “We’ll see you in a—Milo!” He jumped to his feet.
Erika turned. “What happened?” She’d heard the sound—an awful one—a frightening one.
“Milo?” Tom Alan shook his phone, as if that would get Milo back. The noise had been quite loud, a shrieking of metal, and maybe some shouting. It had lasted barely a second before everything went quiet, before Milo was cut off.
Chapter 13
“What happened, Tom Alan?” Erika was at his side. She wanted to ask again, but a third time wouldn’t help.
“We got cut off.” He poked at his phone screen with urgency. “And now it goes directly to voicemail.”
“Probably just a dropped signal.” Billy joined them.
“Maybe. I hope. You heard that screech. That…crash?” Tom Alan looked right at Erika, his expression dire.
“I wouldn’t call it a crash,” she said, though actually, she might.
“He said they’d just started moving.” Tom Alan must have forgotten they were all listening. “Why won’t he pick up?”
“Tom Alan…” Erika put a hand on his elbow. “Relax. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Erika is right, Tom Alan,” Kyoko said. “Go to the station. He will most likely be there as he promised.”
Tom Alan picked up his keys. “I love you, Kyoko.”
“And I you. Give a hug to Milo, and call me the moment you know something.”
“We will,” Erika promised.
Tom Alan was already at the door. “Maybe I should drive to Bedford.” He stopped to think. “I don’t know.”
Etsuko started to cry.
“If you go to Bedford, most likely you’ll just end up passing each other,” Erika said, stroking her little one’s bare arm as Billy bounced her and cuddled her up to his neck. “It’s okay, baby,” she soothed, “Dada’s got you. And other dada’s going to be fine.”
“We don’t know.” Tom Alan paced.
“Tom Alan! You’re worrying yourself for nothing.”
“That sound wasn’t nothing, Kiki.” He had tears in his eyes already.
“Twitter says there’s trouble on the Metro North line down by Bedford,” Jesse told them, swiping his screen.
“See?”
“What else does it say?” Billy asked.
Before Jesse could answer, Tom Alan was out the door. The others followed, Jesse reporting as he jogged to keep up. “Not a lot. No further information is available. A reporter is headed to the scene.”
“The scene,” Tom Alan repeated.
“It’s just a word, Tom Alan.”
“Why won’t he call back?”
They settled on the closest station, three of them in Tom Alan’s car with Billy at the wheel. Erika and Etsuko went in Billy’s truck, so time wouldn’t be wasted transferring the car seat.
Delay.
Big, red, illuminated letters on the train station’s moving LED ticker taunted poor Tom Alan. Every train was late—or stopped, more likely—and even Erika had started to worry, since Milo still hadn’t picked up or called.
“It’s not good, Kiki.” Tom Alan paced up and down the pavement as more time passed—minutes that seemed like forever. Erika followed. There were fifteen fruit trees lined up along the sidewalk. She counted each one as they passed, first walking away from the crossing sign, and then back toward it. They were newly planted, and had supports to help them as they grew. Each one had a black ring around its slender trunk and then four lengths of rope—also black. So much black. Black meant death.
Don’t go there, Erika told herself, even as her father’s warning, her almost nightly dream, the black marble, and his ominous phrase came to mind.
“There was a car on the tracks,” someone said into her phone.
“You talked to someone on the train?” Tom Alan almost grabbed her, his hand stopping just short of touching her nylon sleeve.
“No,” she told him. “Someone who lives down that way.” She stood beside a taxi parked at the platform.
“Did the train hit it?”
“I don’t know.” The taxi driver turned her back, more agitated than worried, it seemed. Whoever she was picking up, they were nothing to her but ten bucks or so. The person Tom Alan was waiting to hear from was his entire world.
“I should have gone to Bedford,” he said.
“I can head down,” Billy offered.
Erika grabbed his hand. She didn’t want him to go.
“There was that bad accident last February,” Tom Alan said. “That lady with the SUV and six people on the train died. It was right around here—on this line. And then another one in December, before that. In July there was one…in Italy. A really bad one. They happen all the time. Everywhere.”
“Tom Alan…” Erika stroked his cheek.
“If something happened to him…Ku areba raku ari.”
“We’ll rally. All of us. We’ll get him better,” Erika promised. “Remember, Papa said a lot of things.” She tried to smile, even though the same idiom was torturing her as well. “If something bad did happened, we’ll all get through it,” she said again. “The four of us. Together.”
“Skater Boy!” The voice, the wild hair bouncing as he ran toward them, Erika melted and Tom Alan took off at a sprint.
“Oh my God!” They met partway, in front of fruit tree number eight. Tom Alan threw his arms around Milo’s neck and kissed him hard enough to nearly knock him over.
“They brought us up on a bus.”
There were a couple dozen other people around, but neither seemed to notice. Tom Alan had Milo’s face in his hands. “You didn’t answer. I was so scared.”
“I’m sorry, love. My phone flew right out of my hand when the bloody train lurc
hed. I’m afraid it’s busted.”
“But you’re not.” Tom Alan pushed him away. He looked him up and down. “You’re not, are you?”
“All good,” Milo said. “I was helping some woman who fell. She hurt her knee rather badly. I played nursemaid and crutch.”
“My hero.” He kissed him again.
Erika couldn’t wait for her turn. She hugged them as a unit.
“Thank God you’re okay,” she said.
“Well, this is unexpected. I didn’t know you’d care, now, did I?”
“Of course I care, you annoying British dick!” She kissed his forehead. “I love you.”
“I do know that, actually. Now let’s not get carried away, though.” Milo squirmed free. “The train stopped short. I wasn’t one of the last survivors on the bloody Titanic. Where’s Hockey Puck and the little one?”
“Right here. We were going to Bedford—barely left, actually—and turned around when we saw the buses.” Etsuko held out her arms, and Billy passed her over. As Milo kissed the baby, and the look on her face lived up to her name, Billy scuffed his shoe in the dirt and twisted his head side to side. “What do I do?” he asked. “God. I want to hug you.”
Milo laughed. “If you have to.”
“No one was seriously hurt?” Billy asked, as the back-slapping, manly embrace came to a rather quick end.
“Not on the train. It wasn’t that full. I’m guessing the bloke in the car didn’t fare so well.”
“On the tracks?” Erika asked. “We heard some lady mention it.”
“Near, actually. We didn’t hit. And I didn’t see. Driver smashed into a tree right beside the rails supposedly. Debris all over. That’s why the sudden stop. Just what I heard, though. I don’t know for sure.”
“Cherry red Camaro,” a rather handsome older man butted in as he passed. He shook his head sadly. “Had to be on purpose. Wasn’t even on the road. Why the hell would someone who owned that car be depressed?”
Tom Alan turned white as a sheet. “Red Camaro,” he whispered.
“Suicide, probably.” The man kept walking, as if it was nothing.
“No.” Jesse held onto Billy. “Kensuke…”
“We don’t know,” Erika said. So why had she immediately thought the same thing?
“I didn’t see it,” Milo repeated.
“Do you know anything about the driver?” Erika asked, stopping the stranger.
“No,” he said. “Sorry. Someone you knew?”
Damn it. Why did the guy use the past tense? “Maybe,” Erika told him. “Though I’m sure there’s more than one red Camaro in Westchester County.”
Tom Alan was on the move, dragging Milo along as if he refused to let go of him. “Who the hell do I call?”
Erika got in the driver’s seat this time. Tom Alan was frantic. So was Jesse, who climbed in front to ride shotgun. “To the hospital?” she asked. No one answered. “He’ll be okay, Jesse.” Erika truly wanted to believe that. “Follow us in the truck,” she told Billy. “Wait.” He had turned to go with Etsuko. Erika touched his arm. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, babe.” He kissed her through the open door, then held out Etsuko. “We’ll meet you there.”
“I messed up,” Tom Alan said, as Erika shut the door. He swiped at his eyes and then said it again. “I messed up. It’s my fault. I thought Kensuke had everything. I thought he had it all together but just didn’t appreciate it. I had it all backwards.”
“We don’t even know,” Erika reiterated. “We may get to the hospital and…” She couldn’t finish.
“I did it,” Jesse said solemnly.
“You can’t blame yourself,” Erika told him. “Kensuke not knowing how to react when things aren’t easy is certainly not your fault—either one of you.”
“There was more to it than that. He saw a picture of B-boy on my phone. A…dirty one. He got really sad for a second, and then really mad.”
“Oh,” Erika said. “Even so…It’s still not your fault. And let’s try to stay positive. Call some of his friends again, Jesse. Maybe he’s with one right now.”
“I shouldn’t have come down so hard on him,” Tom Alan lamented.
“You didn’t, love. Not at first.”
“What about later? Yeah.” Tom Alan was on his phone as well. “I’m calling to see if a patient was brought in who was in a car accident near the train station. The, um, Camaro that hit…” He had to take a breath. “That hit the tree?” There was a pause. “No. I’m not. His family isn’t around. I know. But this kid doesn’t have—”
“Hang up,” Erika told him.
“What?” Tom Alan mouthed it at the rearview mirror.
“Hang up and give me the number.” Erika handed Jesse her phone. “Dial it, Jesse…please.” Tom Alan recited the digits and Jesse dialed. “Hi. ER department, please.” They waited.
“Emergency Department, Harvey.” The man’s voice came through Bluetooth.
“I’m calling about Kensuke Sato. I understand he’s been in…an accident.” She was hoping to hear she was wrong. The words “There was no one brought in by that name,” would be the best ever spoken right then.
“May I ask who this is?” Harvey inquired.
Shit. “His sister. Is he there? We’re on our way over.” Erika raised her brows in the mirror, toward Tom Alan and Milo in the back. “How is he?”
“I’m not allowed to say. You’ll have to speak with the doctor.”
Erika’s chest felt tight. She realized she hadn’t taken a breath in far too long. “Listen…Harvey,” she said evenly. “We’re still fifteen minutes away. Fifteen minutes is an awfully long time to wonder if someone you care about is…” No way could Erika bring herself to say dead or alive. “You know what I’m saying?”
“I understand. I’ll tell Kensuke and his doctor you’re on your way.”
Erika finally exhaled. “He survived,” she told the others, even though they could hear through the speakers in the car. “Thank you,” she said to Harvey. “Tell him we’ll be there as quickly as we can.”
“Drive carefully,” Harvey advised. “It won’t do him any good if something happens to you, too.”
“He’s there,” Erika said, as much to herself as the others. “And he’s…”
“Alive?” Jesse asked.
“You heard what the guy at the desk said…He’s going to tell Kensuke we’re on the way.” Erika gripped the wheel harder. “That means he’s got to be. Doesn’t it?”
“I would think so,” Milo said from behind her, a gentle touch his assurance.
“And he can understand?” Jesse asked. “People can talk to him and he’s…okay.”
“Maybe, Jesse. Probably.”
They ran into the hospital, the six of them, and Harvey, Erika presumed, visibly braced himself against the desk. “Can we see Kensuke Sato?” Tom Alan asked.
“The doctor is in with him right now. Please have a seat. Are you the sister?” Harvey asked Erika as he dialed.
“Yes.”
“Kensuke Sato’s family is here. We can only let two people back at a time,” Harvey said to Erika.
“Take your husband,” Milo said, pushing Tom Alan forward. Erika hoped Harvey wasn’t a figure skating fan.
“Your sister and her husband are here,” the doctor told Kensuke, pulling back the curtain.
Kensuke said nothing. He wouldn’t even look at them.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Savoy.” He held out his hand. “Kensuke’s a lucky kid.” He shook Tom Alan’s first, and then Erika’s. “He’s going to hurt like hell. There’s a knot the size of a baseball on his forehead and his ribs are cracked in a couple of places. His skull’s not,” Savoy said bluntly. “That’s what’s important.”
“Yes,” Tom Alan agreed.
“Arms, legs, fingers, and toes, everything moves. We don’t suspect any internal injuries at this point, but there are more tests to run.” The information came out as if the doctor was a telemarketer reading
from a script. “We’ve called in a psych consult, though he hasn’t admitted to doing it on purpose.”
Tom Alan sniffled. Erika dared not look at him, for fear she might lose it. “What happens next?” she asked.
“He’ll be with us a few days at least. I’m presuming Dr. McNeil will want him held over on her floor after that. They do group therapies and individual—in-patient, most probably, considering the severity of his act.”
Erika got a chill. Tom Alan tightened his grip on her hand.
“Maybe a medication protocol if such is warranted. Heather will discuss all of that with you. I’ll make sure she knows the situation. Is there any other family you’d like us to call? Yours was the first listing in his phone, Mr. Baranowski, but, um, you called us.” Dr. Savoy knew who they were.
“His parents are in Japan,” Tom Alan told him.
“So he said. I informed him our long distance was free.” Dr. Savoy smiled for the first time. “He said not to call them. He’s nineteen, so…”
“Not yet,” Erika said. “Can we talk to him?”
“Sure. We haven’t gotten much. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”
Tom Alan stepped closer to the bed as the doctor headed away. “Kensuke…” He was moving his foot, shaking it under the thin, white blanket. He didn’t answer, but the moment Tom Alan touched the trembling lump, Kensuke dissolved into tears. His face was still turned away, but the heaving gut and sniffling sounds, the silent sobs, made it obvious. “It’s okay,” Tom Alan said.
“No, it’s not.”
“Listen.” Tom Alan got on his knees right beside him. He stroked Kensuke’s hair with affection. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” Kensuke asked.
“Everything.”
Milo stepped up behind and put a hand on Tom Alan’s back. “The doctor said I could come in. Hey, Suke.” Milo waited a second. ‘Hey, One Direction.’ Come on,” Milo told him. “I need to hear you say it.”
Kensuke put his hand over his face.
“Whatever you want. Whatever you need…” Tom Alan offered. “We’re here for you.”
“I chickened out,” Kensuke said, barely audibly.
“Thank God.” Tom Alan straightened up, still on his knees. “Tell me why.”
Kensuke shrugged. “Ow. Fuck.” He flinched again and finally uncovered his face, revealing big, red patches that would soon enough turn black and blue. “Sorry,” he said.