“It’s completely safe here. This is how the Japanese reserve tables at Starbucks,” Bonnie told him. “They put their things down, then they get in line.”
Cain chose a grilled chicken wrap, a bottle of water, and a tall black coffee. He reached for his wallet, but Bonnie was faster. She gave the barista some yen.
“You’re not gonna pay for your first meal in Japan,” she said. “It’s on me.”
Cain smiled. “Okay. The next one’s on me.”
She smiled big. “I’ll make sure to pick an expensive sushi restaurant with great reviews.”
Cain laughed. “I’m sure this place is full of great sushi restaurants.”
He noticed that his sister had upped her lifestyle here in Japan: expensive watch, designer purse, and styled hair. “I just can’t get over how great you look,” he said.
Bonnie’s face turned red. “You’re giving me a complex. Did I look that bad in the States?”
Cain laughed. “Not at all.”
“What can I say? Japan’s been good to me. It’ll be good to you, too.”
“You even lightened your hair. Do Japanese men prefer blondes?”
“Life is certainly easier here as a blonde.” Bonnie grinned. “Most men don’t notice such things, but you’ve always been very observant.”
“The blond hair must help you get noticed around here—with all the dark clothing and brown hair I see, I feel like I’m attending a funeral.”
Bonnie laughed. “Japan is changing. A little bit at a time. It’s a very slow change, but they are letting more and more outside influences in.”
They enjoyed catching up in person, but he was jet-lagged and exhausted from the travel. At one point Bonnie looked at her phone. “Tanaka just texted me. He’s getting off the train and will be here in just a minute. He’s a security guard at the company, and he’s going to be your point of contact at your new job. I can’t wait to introduce you.”
“How’s his English?”
“Really good. He studied aviation at Embry-Riddle in Florida for years.”
“If he’s a pilot, why’s he working as a security guard at this automotive company?”
“He never finished his degree. He had to come back to Japan. He wasn’t a pilot, but he knew enough about commercial aviation that he was able to get a job at United Airlines. That’s how we met.”
“What did he do for the airline?”
“He worked various jobs—mainly checking in passengers and sorting baggage issues. Anyway, his dad, who works for the Tokyo National Police, thought he could do better and helped him get the security job at the automotive company. You’re going to like him; he’s really cool. He’s Japanese, but he’s not, if you know what I mean.”
Cain chuckled. “Nah, I don’t really know what that means. At least not yet.”
“Well,” Bonnie said, “you’ll see, the longer you’re here.”
“So why didn’t they just hire a retired Japanese cop to protect this CEO? Somebody who knows the language, customs, and already has police training? Why did they go searching in America?”
“Japanese police don’t have the experience that you do. This country is so safe. I don’t even think the police carry guns—at least not the ones you normally see on patrol. The threats on this CEO are unusual. I think their executive team is panicking.”
“The police don’t carry guns? What do they do, carry sticks and knives to a gunfight?” Cain asked with a grin.
“I’ve never felt scared here. This isn’t like New Orleans, where I carried my Mace with me everywhere I went.”
“Sis, every place has its dark side.”
Just then, a young Japanese man walked up to their table.
“Perfect timing, Tanaka,” Bonnie said. To Cain, Tanaka looked like every other Japanese businessman in a dark suit, a dark tie, and a crisp white button-down shirt.
Cain stood to shake Tanaka’s hand. “It looks like you stole my tie.”
“I’m sorry?” Tanaka’s face immediately projected worry. “Can you please say that again?”
“He’s just joking, Tanaka-san,” Bonnie said. “My brother likes to joke.”
“I like to joke, too,” Tanaka said. “But you seemed so serious.”
Cain laughed. “That’s my poker face. I’ve been working on it.”
Tanaka smiled. “Okay. Because there are probably one hundred million ties like this in my country.”
All three of them laughed. Cain grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it to their table so Tanaka could have a seat.
“Please don’t judge me for being at Starbucks literally right after my flight,” Cain said. “What can I get you? It’s my treat.”
“Thank you very much, but I have this,” Tanaka said as he lifted a plastic bottle and showed Cain the label.
Cain looked at the green label and saw some English among the scattered Japanese characters. “‘Japan’s number one green tea brand,’” Cain read aloud. “I’ll have to try that sometime.”
“Tanaka, I was just giving my brother some backstory on Mr. Sato, the CEO,” Bonnie said. Then, addressing Cain: “Mr. Sato is acting very counter to usual Japanese culture, both by refusing to step down in the midst of a PR scandal and by actually hiring you, an outsider, to protect him. This is a very rare opportunity for you.”
I left one international scandal to be part of another? “Tell me more about this scandal,” Cain said.
Bonnie continued. “The news is reporting that the auto company falsified emissions controls. This is a huge embarrassment, and Mr. Sato is worried that angry stockholders may attack him because they’ve lost so much money. And it’s not just about money. The CEO has shamed these people—betrayed them.”
“Shame is worse than death,” Tanaka interjected. “Death comes to us all, but you choose to bring shame onto someone. In Japan, it is customary for a boss to resign when he has shamed the company. Sato-san, our CEO, refuses to resign. He is adamant that he has done nothing wrong. But there are many people who lost their jobs and their savings because of the news of this scandal.”
“You’ll see what we’re talking about the longer you are here. The Japanese culture is like nothing I’ve seen anywhere else in the world,” Bonnie said.
Cain took another swig of his water. “Do you think anyone will really attack this CEO?”
Tanaka said nothing; Bonnie filled the silence. “I’d be surprised if someone did. But I imagine Mr. Sato is scared. That’s why he wanted a gaijin.”
“A what?” Cain asked.
“You’re going to hear that word a lot here. It means ‘foreigner.’ Right, Tanaka-san?”
“Yes. Today gaijin means ‘foreigner.’”
“Today?” Cain asked, surprised. “What did it mean yesterday?”
Bonnie laughed. “You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb here.”
“It’s an old word. It means ‘barbarian.’”
Cain chuckled. “I’ve been called lots of things, but never a barbarian.”
Bonnie continued. “Mr. Sato thinks an American will protect him the best since Americans will do anything for money. After all, most Japanese think Americans have no culture or honor. Greed is what motivates America. Ironically, it’s most likely greed that got him into this mess anyway.”
“What do you think, Tanaka?” Cain asked.
“We are honored to have you here. We are only a few security guards, but we are excited to work for you.”
“When do I meet the big boss?”
“Sato-san?”
“Yes,” Cain replied. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Tomorrow. First, I will take you to Yokohama. This is where everything is. Your apartment, our company. I would like to introduce you to the city a little bit before you start work tomorrow. Japan is very different from the United States.”
“I can already see that,” Cain said. “But I’m used to adapting. Plus, Louisiana can’t be too much different from Japan.”
Bonnie
burst out laughing. “He’s joking again, Tanaka-san. My brother can be sarcastic at times. You’ll learn his sense of humor.”
Tanaka smiled and nodded his head.
“Well,” Bonnie said, “I’ve gotta check in for work.”
Cain and Bonnie hugged each other tightly as they prepared to leave the Starbucks.
“See you soon,” Cain said.
“Can’t wait!” she exclaimed. “I’m still in shock you’re here. Call me selfish, but I’m glad things worked out like this.”
“Like what?” Cain asked.
“For the better. You’re finally here!” She turned to Tanaka. “Take care of my brother.”
“He looks like he can take care of himself,” Tanaka said.
Bonnie laughed. “True, but trouble always seems to find him.”
“That makes two of us. Two good people fleeing trouble back home only to end up in Japan,” Cain said.
Bonnie smiled and then embraced her brother one more time.
Cain allowed himself to feel a surge of joy deep in his heart. Maybe this will actually work out, he thought.
“Safe flight!” he shouted to Bonnie as she headed back to Narita’s departure lobby.
Chapter 34
“Our company has arranged for Black Cat to deliver your luggage to your apartment. It’ll be there, waiting for you in a couple of hours,” Tanaka said as they approached the Black Cat counter at Narita airport.
“That’s cool,” Cain said. “Is this popular?”
“Yes. It’s cheap, too. Many Japanese use this company so they don’t have to carry their luggage on the trains. As you will see, the trains are very crowded.”
“Makes sense,” Cain said. “And it’s thoughtful. I’ll hold on to my backpack, though.”
After dropping off Cain’s small suitcase, he and Tanaka took the escalators down to the basement floor of Narita International Airport, where Tanaka used a computer kiosk to purchase two tickets for the rapid train to Yokohama.
“I’m amazed,” Cain said. “Everyone actually stands on the left-hand side to allow people to walk past on the right. That never works in America—even when there are signs.”
“Yes. I know. America encourages the individual. Japan encourages harmony in the whole.”
Tanaka showed Cain how to cross-reference his ticket with the digital sign on the train. “This is our train. It departs in three minutes.”
They boarded and took their assigned seats. The train was full.
“Tokyo is overrated, I think,” Tanaka said. “I much prefer Yokohama.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Cain-san, to a gaijin, everything looks the same here. But to a Japanese person, we see the differences.”
“If you and I are going to work together, we’ve gotta iron out a few things. First, just call me Cain. Plus, you and I look to be the same age. How old are you, anyway?”
“I’m thirty-five.”
“Okay, so I’m just a few years older,” Cain said. “And secondly, I want you to teach me to see these differences you talk about.”
“Okay, Mr. Cain.”
Cain chuckled. “Just Cain will be fine. We’re operators. We’re going to be working together. You’re gonna be my second-in-command. We have to trust each other.”
“Okay.” Tanaka smiled. “You have my word.”
“Talk’s cheap, Tanaka. Let’s shake on it.”
They shook hands.
“I’m still amazed. This train is completely full. We’re like sardines in a can, yet everyone is so polite. There’s nobody talking, besides me.” Cain chuckled lightly. “And when an elderly person gets on board, a younger person gives up their seat.”
“There are over thirteen million people in Tokyo. A city this size could never exist if we weren’t polite to each other,” Tanaka reasoned.
“And so many people are reading—actually reading—a book! It’s a dying hobby in America.”
“Maybe that is because America makes the best movies,” Tanaka said, and smiled. “I wanted to visit Hollywood when I was in college, but I never made the time. I can’t wait to visit California someday.”
About an hour later, they arrived in the city. From the train window, before it went into the station, Cain noticed flickering lights and a Ferris wheel in the background.
“Before we go to your apartment,” Tanaka said, “I’d like to take you to my favorite izakaya.”
“Gesundheit.”
“What?” a confused Tanaka said.
“I thought you sneezed. What was that word you said? Isa—”
“Izakaya. It’s the Japanese word for pub. I would like to buy you a drink at my favorite izakaya.”
“Now you’re talking, Tanaka-san. I can use a drink before sleeping like the dead tonight.”
The izakaya was loud and boisterous. Through the thick fog of cigarette smoke, Cain could see that the place was packed with Japanese businessmen in suits. The men were yelling at one another to be heard over the buzz of the crowd.
“This seems like a complete contrast to the Japanese men I saw at the airport and on the train.”
“Oh, yes. Society does not allow this in public. But in here, it’s okay for salarymen to let off some steam. It’s actually expected.” Tanaka took off his tie and neatly folded it before placing it in his jacket pocket.
“Good to know,” Cain said. “What are we drinking?”
“Sake!” Tanaka shouted in order to be heard.
“That’ll work,” Cain shouted back, and showed his approval with a thumbs-up.
The waitress brought two wooden boxes filled with sake.
“This is how we traditionally drink sake,” Tanaka explained. “The sake is originally in barrels that are broken down into these smaller cups for us to drink from.”
“That’s neat,” Cain said. He raised his small wooden box. “Cheers.”
“Kanpai!” Tanaka raised his drink.
Cain and Tanaka drank several cups of sake; they lost count of how many exactly. Tanaka flagged down the server and ordered soba noodles.
“Do you want some soba noodles also?” Tanaka asked Cain.
“I’m good. The sandwich Bonnie bought me was enough.”
A few moments later, the waitress brought the noodles in a large bowl.
“That looks like a horse trough,” Cain said.
Tanaka smiled and grabbed a pair of wooden chopsticks. He started picking out the noodles and slurping the broth.
“My God,” Cain said. “That slurping sound is like someone scraping their fingernails across a chalkboard. Do all Japanese slurp their noodles, or just the ones in this bar?”
“Slurping loudly is how we tell the chef that it’s good.”
“In my country, we let the chef know the food is good by eating all of it and returning an empty plate. How can you skinny fellas eat so much?” Cain asked.
“Noodles do not count as food. We Japanese have a separate place in our stomachs just for noodles.” Tanaka laughed.
“Hey, you can make jokes, too. Let’s kanpai to that.”
“I miss American food so much,” Tanaka said. “I love American things. The food, the music, the movies, and the big pickup trucks.”
“What else?” Cain asked.
“American women.”
Cain laughed and Tanaka joined in on the laughter for a second before explaining. “American women are much more forward than Japanese women. I had a girlfriend in Florida. She had blond hair and blue eyes—very American. She introduced me to a lot of different things.”
“I bet she did,” Cain said with a loud laugh. “Kanpai!” In unison they took another swig of the warm sake. “What does your wife think about that?”
Tanaka laughed. “I’m not married. I still live with my parents.”
“Really? I left the house at eighteen.”
“Yes, I know. That’s very common in America. But in Japan, it’s very expensive. Many Japanese stay at home until they get
married.”
“When’s that?”
“First, I must find the right girl. And she’s probably in America.” Tanaka smiled.
“Kanpai!” Cain said, and they gulped another shot of sake.
Tanaka, now red-faced from drinking, had lowered his inhibitions. “I would have stayed in America had it not been for my father.”
“What do you mean?”
“I miss America. It is the Wild West. Here in Japan, we have too many rules. Don’t get me wrong. Tradition is nice, but adhering to tradition got in the way of my dreams.”
“What dreams are you talking about?”
“I wanted to be an airline pilot. That’s why I was in university in Florida, at Embry-Riddle in Daytona Beach.”
“Yeah, I know it. I was stationed at JAX for years with the United States Navy. We’d go down to Daytona for various events.”
“Yes—so many things to do in Daytona. I had a lot of American friends. I was becoming too American, my father thought. I was at a party where there were drugs. The police came. I didn’t take any of the drugs, of course, but I was in the house where they were. The police took us all to jail. My father is an inspector with the Tokyo National Police. He made me return to Japan immediately.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cain sympathized with Tanaka.
“No, I’m the sorry one. I talked way too much tonight. The train is no longer running.”
“It’s only just after one o’clock.”
“Yes, but in Japan, the trains stop at one. It’s very inconvenient for us Japanese. But we must not say anything.”
“You must not say anything?”
“We have a saying here: The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Trust me; I get hammered down a lot.”
“So you can take a beating? That’s good. Means you’re resilient.”
Tanaka seemed to appreciate the compliment.
“Well, surely we’re not the first people in Japan to close down a bar. So, what’s the solution?”
“Japanese always have a solution. Tonight, we sleep in a hotel.”
“That’s fine. I’ve spent so many years in hotels that they’re like second homes to me.”
“I assure you, Cain. You have never stayed at a hotel like this.”
Cajun Justice Page 12
