A GAME Boy lay shattered on the floor. Kiyomi’s cheeks were wet with tears. Manny and May looked no better; they stared at the television in shock.
A female news reader nodded and the camera panned down the desk to a male colleague seated with two hastily recruited guests. One was a sociology professor from Meiji University and the other a popular TV personality.
The host asked a question and the professor attempted to explain the crime using a series of diagrams drawn on cardboard storyboards. Arrows and Xs plotted the route Daffy and Mozart had taken, black and blue icons identified the participants inside the apartment.
The professor provided expert commentary as the station replayed the video footage in super-slow motion. The camera shifted to the talento. He wore impenetrable sunglasses and his hair was slicked straight back. He joked about Mozart’s attire and announced he had a comedy about simple-hearted yakuza slated for release in July. The anchorman smiled uneasily and asked another question. The academic produced a pie chart and used a wooden pointer to explain its complexities.
May shouted at the TV as Sam walked in the door. He stopped grinning and thoughts of Chieko vanished. The station was broadcasting reaction shots of reporters at the scene. Helen was pictured frightened and angry, trying to escape the camera. She looked drugged, her face was gray and speckled with drops of blood. She jostled the camera and the film jerked.
May ran blindly across the floor and collided with Sam. She fell and jumped up, trying to get out the door. “Let me go, let me go,” she cried, and struggled as he wrapped his arms around her. Kiyomi sighed and lay her head on the bar. Manny switched off the TV.
Sam slid to the floor and pulled May down with him. He looked at Manny. “What the hell’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“I should have turned it off,” Manny said. “There was a killing near here. They showed the whole thing. I guess Helen was there.”
May had calmed a little. “That’s right. Now let me go. I want to go and make sure she’s all right. She needs me.” She picked up the Game Boy and set it on the bar. “I got scared and dropped it. I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.”
May returned with Helen thirty minutes later. She led her to the counter and put her in a seat next to Sam. Manny offered her a cup of coffee and Helen shook her head. “I think I’ll have a beer.”
Sam asked how she felt and Kiyomi put on music and May turned on all the lights in the coffee shop. A teenage girl and boy walked in and Manny took their order at a table near the window.
“Not good,” Helen answered. “It was horrible and there was nothing I could do. I’d like to kill those fucking reporters. They wanted it to happen.”
They talked for hours. Customers came and went and May walked Kiyomi home. When she returned Helen and Sam were smiling and just a little drunk. He told May they were going to close early that night and asked her to lock the door.
Helen stood up. “I should be going.”
“No, why don't you and Manny stay. It’s hard to have a family conference with just the two of us, and I’ve got a few ideas I want to try out on you.”
“Is this going to take a long time?” May complained. “I haven’t had dinner yet, I’m hungry.”
“It won’t take long and if you’re good I’ll take everybody down the street for tempura.”
May thought she could get a better deal. “How about sushi?”
Sam didn’t care much for sushi but nodded. “Sure, fine. As long as that’s OK with everybody else.”
Manny voted for sushi without condition. Helen also agreed but said she couldn’t eat uni unless she was completely drunk.
“I’ll eat yours,” May promised. “I love it.” She smacked her lips theatrically. “Uni’s delicious.”
Helen laughed and asked for another beer. “If I’m going to be sitting next to a little kid slurping fish guts that look like yellow puke I’d better get prepared.”
“Gross!” May yelled, and Sam called the meeting to order.
“OK, first on the agenda is an announcement. I called the lawyer this morning about getting a visa for Manny. Matsushita-san said she knows one of the section chiefs at immigration and he can probably help us.”
“How many people do we have to bribe?” Manny asked.
“Nobody. This guy owes Matsushita—san a favor.”
“What kind of a visa?”
“She said an entertainment visa would be the easiest. It’s something immigration is comfortable with. They figure all Filipinos can sing, dance and play the guitar.”
“I can’t. I’m a carpenter.”
“You don’t have to, Manny. It’s just a visa. It’s either that or a student visa. You want to study Japanese full-time?”
“Not particularly.”
“Whoa, hold it right there, bud,” May exclaimed. “What happened to studying is good for you? The more you study, the more you learn, blah, blah, blah. What happened to all that stuff, huh?”
Manny laughed. “Well, uhh...”
“How about one of those phony language schools?” Helen suggested. “There’s dozens of places that give out visas to illegal workers. Nobody actually goes to school.”
“I thought of that,” Sam said, “but those schools are getting busted more and more often. The entertainment visa is legal. If a cop walks in we can always have Manny sing a couple of numbers.”
“I told you I can’t sing.”
Sam shrugged. “Entertainment is subjective. If you don’t want to sing you can juggle oranges for all I care.”
May laughed and Manny agreed. “OK, fine. Anything would be better than walking around afraid of the cops all the time.”
“Good,” Sam said. “That’s settled. After Matsushita-san makes the arrangements we have to go to the immigration center at Otemachi and sign the papers.”
May jumped down from her stool. “Is that the end of the meeting? I’m starving. Let’s go!”
Sam held up his hand. “I also asked Matsushita-san about the investigation.”
“What investigation?”
“The investigation into mom’s death.”
“Oh.” May looked like she wished she could crawl under the table.
“She called the cops,” Sam continued, “and they gave her the same runaround they gave me. Nakazono said they still don’t have any real leads or suspects.”
“Shit,” Helen growled. “He was the last person to see her alive. Somebody ought to investigate him.”
Sam changed the subject. He didn’t want the killer to be Nakazono. The cop would never be charged and Sam knew he’d have to do something. Retribution would be required. Who would take care of May if he killed or even injured a police lieutenant? Certainly not Sam—not from behind bars.
“The next thing is this coffee shop,” he said. “There is absolutely no way I’m going to keep getting up at four o’clock in the morning.”
Helen laughed. “I told May you wouldn’t last very long but I figured you’d do better than two days.”
“Yeah, you’re not trying,” May added. “You just need more practice.”
“Sleep is what I need, not practice. How about if we negotiate a little?”
May narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Like how?”
“Well, when Matsushita-san suggested an entertainment visa for Manny it gave me an idea. What if we turn this place into a club? It might be fun and we could open later in the day.”
“How much later?”
“Uhh, I was thinking of about noon.”
Manny looked at Helen and smiled.
May hesitated. “I don’t know what about—”
Sam began to ad lib furiously. “And you could be the musical director and we’d only have music you like and people could dance and—”
“But—”
“And, uhh, we could put in a couple of those video games you like.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, all right, as long as I get to pick out the games.”
Helen interrupted. “Wait a second. Are you talking about hiring a band?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”
She looked around. “Where are they supposed to play? There’s no room.”
“You could do it,” Manny said, “if you knock out a couple of booths.”
“Could you build a stage?” May asked.
Manny looked hurt. “I’ve been a carpenter for thirty years, May. I ought to be able to handle it. If I can get the tools and the materials I can do the whole job in a few weeks.”
Sam nodded and looked at May. “You got it straight? We open at noon and close at ten.”
“Why do we have to close so early?”
“Because you’re thirteen years old and I want you to get to bed at a reasonable hour. If you won’t agree to that, the deal’s off.”
Sam’s interest in her welfare made May feel safer than she’d had in a long time. Still it wouldn’t do to give in too easy. She tried to argue, just to stay in practice. It wasn’t convincing; she asked a question to hide her embarrassment. “Who’s supposed to play? Where are we gonna get a band?”
“There’s lots of bands in Tokyo,” Helen said. “Most are lousy but there’s plenty of them.”
“This place is too small for a real band,” May said, “and it would be too noisy.” There was a sneaky gleam in her eye.
“She’s right,” Helen agreed. “Your neighbors would never put up with a rock ‘n’ roll club.”
May nodded. “Yeah, we need a small group, just a couple of guitars and maybe a drummer. They wouldn’t have to be professionals or anything.”
“You know anybody like that?” Sam asked Helen.
May elbowed Helen in the side, made a face and rolled her eyes.
Helen ignored her. “Uhh, not really, but I can ask around.”
Sam stood up. “OK, I guess that’s it. Let’s go get dinner.”
“Hey! What about me?” May shouted.
“What about you?”
“I can play guitar.”
“So?”
She hesitated, almost but not quite, too shy for self-promotion. “Well, I could play here, don’t you think?”
Sam pretended to consider the idea. “Hmm, that might be all right but we’d still need a singer.”
“I can sing, too!”
“Yeah, but—”
“And I’m small, you wouldn’t have to build a big stage.”
“But don’t you think—”
“And I’ll work cheap!”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Helen laughed and Manny set three beers and a black cherry soda on the counter. Sam smiled at May. “I guess we’ve got a deal.”
May hugged her brother and began to noisily plan her repertoire.
“Are you going to get anyone to play with you?” Manny asked.
“I’d be lonely by myself. Kiyomi can play the drums and—”
“I thought you said Kiyomi played the clarinet?” Helen said.
“She plays the drums, too.”
“Really?”
“Well, not exactly, but she can learn. Anybody can play the drums. It’s easy. Sam’s gonna have to buy a drum set, though. We’ll need that and amps and microphones and more guitars.”
Sam was already resigned to a money-losing operation. The coffee shop had been as much a hobby for his mother as a business. It didn’t matter as long as May was happy and he didn’t have to get up in the middle of the night anymore. They made more than enough on rent and investments to cover any losses.
“What do you need guitars for?” he asked. “You’ve already got two.”
“Yeah, but I don’t have an electric guitar and neither does Helen.”
“I see. So she’s in the group, too?”
Helen started to object but was no match for May’s enthusiasm. “Of course she’s in the group. What did you think?”
“I think we should discuss this at a later date,” Helen said.
“Nope,” May said. She walked across the room and flicked off the lights. “It’s all decided. Now, let’s go to dinner before I starve to death.”
