The Kizuna Coast: A Rei Shimura Mystery (Rei Shimura Mysteries Book 11) (10 page)

“She’s still cold. I’m worried about her.”

“Yeah, maybe she shouldn’t have come to this area,” Private McDonald said. “It’s ten degrees colder than Tokyo.”

“If she were on a walk, she’d be warmer,” I said, wishing I’d thought to bring her box and blanket along. But I hadn’t, so I busied myself getting the teapot on the stove. As it came almost to a boil, I turned it off and began pouring hot water into white foam cups with green tea bags inside. Not many Japanese preferred tea-bag tea over loose, but the pleased reaction of the tsunami survivors earlier had assured me these cups would be appreciated.

I arranged two dozen hot cups of tea on two trays, and set up twenty-four more cups to steep, giving Private McDonald directions to remove the tea bags after exactly four minutes. He looked at me as if I was crazy but set his watch.

Inside, the sharp aroma of kerosene heaters somewhat mitigated more unpleasant human odors. I supposed that I would smell that way if Mr. Ishida were not here and I’d have to linger in the area searching. How would I do it?

I forced my thoughts away from Mr. Ishida and to the people right in front of me. Hospital gurneys were crowded into the room, with barely a foot’s width between them. These gurneys were topped by frail, mostly middle-aged to elderly people under green military blankets.

As I approached the first row of gurneys, a walnut-faced lady sat straight up and greeted me. She’d seen the tray of tea. The patient lying on the gurney behind her followed suit.

Ocha, ocha…
a murmur went through the area, and patients began pulling their hands out from under the blankets. And as I moved along, each face I looked at was grateful. But where was Mr. Ishida? Not here.

Within minutes I’d finished distributing the tea and promised others that I would be back with more. As I left the building to hurry back to the tea on the picnic tables, I passed by Hachiko, who whined and sprang on me. Had she been frightened I’d abandoned her? She was a shop dog, and I’d brought her to a wild, cold, smelly place.

I put down the empty trays to pet her, noticing that she’d moved around the bicycle rack so much that she’d twisted her leash between several rungs.

“She’s acting like she’s really your dog,” Private McDonald said. “Those other tea cups are brewed just the way you wanted—I took out the tea bags already.”

“Thanks. The patients are really happy about the tea.” I unclipped and straightened out Hachiko’s leash, then reclipped it to the bike rack. “Sweetie, I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Hachiko sniffed, as if insulted, but settled down with her head resting on her paws.

“More tea,” I called as I walked back into the shelter. Was this what it felt like to be a waitress on the Shinkansen train? I was doling out the second tray of tea when a murmur went through the room followed by laughter. I turned to see Hachiko bolting straight into the heart of the room, a chewed remnant of leash flying from her collar.

Hachiko moved gracefully around people and chairs and underneath gurneys. Within moments she had vanished. I didn’t dare call after her because I didn’t know if she’d respond, and also because Dr. Nishi, who was just ten feet away listening to someone’s heart, might overhear. Hastily putting the last cups of tea into the hands of two confused-seeming patients, I tucked the empty tray under my arm and began serious pursuit.

Glancing around the room, looking wildly for Hachiko, I noticed Sgt. Simonson giving me a “what-the-hell” look. I shook my head, threw my hands up in the air, and hurried on.

“Are you finished with the tea, Shimura-san?” Miss Tanaka looked up from nearby, where she was taking a patient’s temperature. Obviously she had not seen Hachiko passing underneath the gurneys.

“Yes, just looking for someone.” I paused, trying to look normal.

“By the way, there is a list in the doctors’ office of all the injured persons. You could check it when you’re done serving, okay?”

I could not see Hachiko at all; but in the farthest corner of the room, some laughter came from a small group of patients who were sitting together on a few folded blankets. I made my way on the outer edge of the sea of gurneys toward them. As I’d feared, Hachiko was in their midst and was standing with her paws on one someone’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry. It was an accident that she came in,” I said, grabbing up the end of Hachiko’s trailing leash. “Stop licking!
Dame desu!
”

Hachiko seemed to understand
“dame,”
the quick command that meant “bad,” “no,” and “don’t” rolled into one. She dropped her feet to the floor, allowing the bandaged man she’d accosted to wipe his face with a hand. Smiling, he looked up at me with warm brown eyes surrounded by a lifetime of creases. The silvery nimbus of his hair was flattened, and a large square bandage was taped to one side of his head. The man’s shirt was grimy, but a blue-and-gray silk scarf was tied at his neck with flair.

I knew only one Japanese man who tied scarves like that.

Hachiko had found Ishida-san.

S
o quickly, it was over. All the stress of the last week faded at the glorious sight of Ishida-san embracing his best friend.

“So good of you to come, Shimura-san,” Mr. Ishida said, catching sight of me. “I didn’t know you’d bring Hachiko.”

“I’m very happy she found you.” This was an understatement, but there were too many people around for me to confess how deeply affected I was to know he was well enough to be at a mah-jongg board. “Actually, Hachiko’s not supposed to be inside for hygiene reasons.”

“I was so worried about Hachiko,” Mr. Ishida said as if he hadn’t heard me. “How did you know she was trapped alone in the shop?”

“Fortunately, Okada-san remembered Hachiko and brought her to your vet. She’s been with me since yesterday evening.”

I would have to explain that I didn’t know where the dog would be allowed to spend the night, except that Sgt. Simonson had joined us. “So this is where she went. The doctor’s going to be pissed.”

“It was amazing: Hachiko found her owner,” I explained. “I’ll go outside with her now, as I have to bring in food, anyway. Ishida-san, can you stay with her outdoors while I serve the meals? Are you recovered enough?”

“You take her straightaway while I try to get permission from the nurses. They don’t like us wandering around.”

I only had a foot of leash left to tug Hachiko with, and she would not leave Mr. Ishida, so he wound up walking to the shelter doorway so I could get her to move. There wasn’t anything left with which to tie her to the bike rack, so he sat on the step, petting Hachiko, whose tail was making so many circles that it looked like a golden blur. As I explained to Ishida-san about the food-service work I needed to do here and then later in Sugihama, he nodded, but then said, “Please don’t go back to Sugihama without speaking to me again—I have something very important to tell you.”

Maybe this important thing was why he’d asked me to come to Tohoku in the first place, I thought as I joined Private McDonald in ladling stew into disposable bowls.

“The sergeant told me your reunion’s already happened. Kind of amazing it worked out so fast.” Private McDonald grinned at me.

“Yes. Now the only challenge is getting Mr. Ishida out of here and finding a place for Hachiko to sleep. Ideally they should be together. But it’s a couple of days until the volunteer bus will return to Tokyo.”

It took about an hour to serve all of the patients the stew. Then, steeling myself for a potentially difficult encounter, I located Dr. Nishi in a closet-like office with just a table and one chair. He had a laptop computer on it and pages of papers scattered all around.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt, Dr. Nishi. I brought your lunch and wondered if I could speak to you a moment?” I put the bowl down to the side of his laptop.

He looked at the bowl, then his watch. “Actually, I’m still doing morning rounds and it’s already late afternoon.”

“I just found Ishida Yasushi, my mentor who was missing from Tokyo. I’ve come to ask if you’ll allow him to transfer to the main shelter in Sugihama until I take him and his dog back to Tokyo on Sunday.”

The doctor slowly sniffed the stew, as if he was savoring it. “I’ve examined a patient called Ishida, but he’s not from Tokyo. Are you sure you have the right person?”

“Of course. I know him, and he knows me.” I handed the doctor a plastic spoon and paper napkin. “Ishida-san owns a shop in Tokyo’s Yanaka neighborhood. He grew up there and has worked in it for decades.”

“Itadakimasu.”
The doctor murmured the words one always said before eating and took a sip of stew with his spoon. “Very tasty.”

“Glad you like it,” I said.

“When he didn’t give an address, I suspected dementia. He kept wanting to go outside this building, and he was speaking about a blue woman—”

“Oh, that’s his apprentice.” I paused, thinking it would be helpful to learn from this doctor the story of Mr. Ishida’s rescue in case my friend left out or forgot any information. “Could you tell me how Ishida-san wound up here—several miles from where he’d been?”

The stew was working wonders. Dr. Nishi had a few more sips, then spoke. “According to the police, Ishida-san was rescued in Sugihama from one Takara Auction House—a three-story business on high ground. He had fallen during the quake’s impact, he said, and had a laceration on the right side of his head that required some stitches. He was likely concussed.”

“Concussed. Is it serious?” I exclaimed.

Nurse Tanaka-san stepped into the small space. “Oh, there you are,” she said cheerfully. “We are ready to return to the other shelter.”

“Okay.” Turning back to the doctor, I asked, “What about the head injury?”

“It makes me reluctant to let him go about on his own. He’s under medical watch.”

“Does this mean he can’t come with me today?” I stared at the doctor, feeling as if everything that had been going right was suddenly heading in the other direction.

“He has not proved himself to be sound of mind or even to know his name. You’ve come in and claim he’s from Tokyo—but if he doesn’t support that idea—what am I to do?”

“I think you should call his doctor in Tokyo.” I looked at his stew bowl. It was empty. Maybe he was still hungry, because he’d seemed to revert to his earlier officiousness. “Dr. Nakajima’s office is in the Yanaka District of Tokyo. I can look it up for you—”

“Thank you. Maybe I’ll be able to reach him, but telephone access has been difficult.”

Trying to hide my irritation, I said, “I hope to speak with you tomorrow.”

“I don’t understand why any doctor wouldn’t want to move someone out of this shelter,” I muttered to Nurse Tanaka after Dr. Nishi had given us leave. “There aren’t enough staff to care for everyone, it’s cold, and the risk of infection from someone else has got to be high!”

“Protocol, I think. I’m sure it will work out tomorrow, Shimura-san. May I offer my congratulations on finding your friend? You must be very happy,” Miss Tanaka said in a soothing voice as we walked back into the main clinic room.

“It’s thanks to you that Hachiko and I were able to visit. Who knows how long it would have taken otherwise?” I shook my head. “Did you hear the doctor believes Ishida-san has dementia and didn’t remember that he was from Tokyo? I think the doctor’s the one with issues of confusion.”

Nurse Tanaka put a gentle hand on my arm. “When you speak to Ishida-san, perhaps it’s best not to mention this supposed diagnosis. It could make him nervous.”

“Of course I won’t say anything. But I do want to talk to him. He said there’s something he wants me to know before leaving.”

“I do wish there was enough time for him to chat with you and enjoy his dog.” Nurse Tanaka took her comforting hand away from me to look at her watch. “But I’m expected back at the other building to continue health checks with the families staying in the Sugihama shelter.”

“I could go back to Sugihama on my own.”

“But we have this transportation right now! I don’t see how you can.” The nurse looked at me warily.

“On the way over, I noticed there’s really only one working road dug out. It’s impossible to get lost—and I’ve got good boots.” The black suede Merrell boots were a gift from Michael for last winter’s brief trip to visit his parents in New Hampshire. They wouldn’t look new for much longer, but that was okay.

Nurse Tanaka permitted Ishida-san to come outside with me for a few minutes to say goodbye to Hachiko. However, my elderly friend hadn’t a coat with him and was directed by her to wrap a blanket around his shoulders for warmth. I explained to both of them that now I knew where he was, I’d bring the coat and the other clothes I’d brought from his home as quickly as I could.

“I would like to vacate this asylum,” he told me. “The challenge will be finding a lodging to accept both Hachiko and me. Can you find out if any hotels are open in this area?”

“Before I do that, why do you even want to stick around here? It’s a disaster zone without toilets and—”

“We have portable toilets behind the building. You should take advantage, if there are none in Sugihama.”

“I’ll check it out later,” I said, as the two of us started walking with Hachiko between us. The dog now had a military-issue rope attached to her collar, courtesy of Private McDonald. “I’m glad you stayed a bit longer to talk. I must tell you about Mayumi-chan.”

“Your new apprentice. I believe you mentioned her during the phone call you made to Hawaii that was unfortunately cut off too soon—”

“Yes, yes. I cannot leave this area without Mayumi. She didn’t even want me to come to this auction—and look what happened.”

I ran over the words he’d just spoken. They didn’t make sense. “Do you mean that your apprentice Mayumi was here with you during the earthquake and tsunami?”

“Actually, it was a surprise that Mayumi-chan joined me in Sugihama,” Mr. Ishida said. “She had said she heard the antiques house had a bad reputation; but it was quite a new place, so I told her I would visit and decide what I thought.

“Then, the day before leaving, she told me an important client was coming to Tokyo on the eleventh and wanted to see me in the shop. I could not ignore this, so I telephoned Fujiwara-sama. He had no plans to visit Tokyo. Mayumi-chan had been confused.”

“Very confused,” I said.

“So I left. I’d been traveling for two days already when she rang me on my cell phone to say she would rush to Sugihama to bring something I’d forgotten.”

“Goodness! What item did you forget?”

“My
inkan
. It was my first time dealing with the Takara Auction House, so she reminded me I needed it. Always it’s in my bag, but I’d forgotten it this time.”

Mr. Ishida was talking about a special hand-carved stick with a calligrapher’s
kanji
interpretation of his name. Although many Japanese last names were identical, supposedly each person’s
inkan
was unique and therefore valuable proof of agreement when stamping official documents. It was conceivable an auctioneer would prefer an
inkan
to be used for a bill of sale. But Mr. Ishida also had a driver’s license and plenty of business cards. I thought he could have closed a deal without having his personal stamp.

I put my skepticism on hold as Mr. Ishida continued.

“Mayumi-chan caught the bullet train to Sendai and then a bus to Sugihama. She met me midway through the auction. About thirty minutes later, the quake struck.” He shuddered. “I don’t remember everything, I’m afraid. There was such a terrible shaking with items falling all over. Everyone who could move was trying to get outside.”

“Yes,” I said, “I heard that’s what people did in Tokyo, too. It’s an instinctive reaction. Nobody wants to be buried in a collapsed building.”

“I hit the ground hard and remember putting my hand to my head and touching blood. Mayumi pulled me back up to my feet. She was crying and wanted me to come outside with her and make an escape. However, I was quite weak, and we hadn’t my van to drive away in—I’d gone by train. Mr. Morioka, the auction owner, said that he was moving his valuables as quickly as he could to the top floor, and if I needed, I could stay up with him.”

“So you decided to take advantage of this shelter?” I asked, remembering Dr. Nishi’s summary of what the police had reported. “But how incredibly lucky you were. So many people who stayed on upper floors of homes drowned anyway.”

“I didn’t immediately go upstairs. Mayumi-chan ran outside, trying to find space for us in a vehicle driven by any of the other auction-goers. She took my satchel because she thought showing people my identification might lead to our being assisted.”

I nodded. Mr. Ishida was a senior member of the Tokyo antiques community. His name had opened important doors for me. Probably Mayumi thought it could open at least a car door.

“She didn’t come back.” His voice broke. “I waited, but in a few minutes, I spotted the wave from the window sweeping through the lower part of the town. I guessed that there might have been room for just one person in a car offered to her—and she’d had to go so fast that she could not tell me. In any case, Morioka-san allowed me to stay upstairs along with a few other people who didn’t drive cars to the auction. I remember Morioka-san saying that the building was tall enough and so strong it wouldn’t be swept away.”

“He sounds quite confident for someone who is a newcomer to Tohoku,” I said, remembering what Akira Rikyo had said about Mr. Morioka.

“And he was correct! The wave flooded the ground level, where the auction had been held, but did not come up to the second and third floors. It was frightening nonetheless to be up there for so many hours—to see the destruction from the window.” He shuddered slightly. “The next morning, we were rescued by boat. But when I came to this shelter, I couldn’t find anyone who had heard about Mayumi-chan.”

If she hadn’t been found, it meant that she’d gotten out of Tohoku altogether—or that she hadn’t survived.

“While I was upstairs, I thought I heard her voice calling, but I knew it must have been impossible.” He shook his head. “I should have told her to stay with me instead of letting her look for transportation. I did not protect her.”