Christmas 2004, in Thailand. He’s standing in four-foot-high water and furiously banging on his hotel door to break it open in order to rescue his family. He bangs harder and harder and collapses in the water, gasping for air but sucking in the contaminated salt water. His eyes are open, but he can’t see through the muddy water. His lungs fill with water as he screams for help. He’s drowning. Everything slowly goes black. Then complete silence. No more sounds of rushing water or banging.
Cain awakened, coughing for air. He was on the tatami mat looking up. Standing over him were two monks. The sensei continued swinging his bamboo staff, but the sound was inaudible. Cain saw one of the monks speaking but could not hear anything. Slowly the sounds came back into range. The monk had a set of kind eyes that sparkled. Cain sensed a humanity from this old man who comforted him. Then all the sound came back when the monk placed his hand on Cain’s shoulder.
“Mountains exist for you to climb,” the monk said slowly in English, “not for you to carry.”
Chapter 54
Umiko ran up to Cain and kneeled beside him. “Are you okay?”
She appeared blurry in his vision. “Yeah, I think so. I must be a little dehydrated.” He massaged his right temple. “I got a migraine. It blurs my vision sometimes. Not sure if it’s from the migraine or from the dehydration.”
“Sensei just gave us one hour personal time for tea.”
“That sounds great right now.”
“I agree,” Umiko said. “He was training us very hard today.”
Umiko and Cain walked the flat stone path toward a more private area near the garden.
“Please sit and relax,” she instructed. “I will be back with the tea.”
As Cain waited for Umiko, he looked around the Zen retreat. Perfectly manicured bonsai trees, raked granite, and a man-made pond with koi fish were nearby. He had a panoramic view of Mount Fuji towering over Japan’s sacred landscape. This is such a tranquil place, he thought. I’ll come back someday, without the sensei.
Umiko returned, holding a wooden tray with the tea-making essentials. She kneeled in a seiza position and began the ceremonial ritual of preparing the tea. She placed a spoonful of matcha green tea powder in his ornate bowl. She poured about four ounces of hot water into the bowl. She used a bamboo whisk brush to vigorously stir the powder and water together until the green tea became frothy.
Cain watched her closely, impressed by her level of perfection and attention to detail. He felt that she was honorable and someone who would never betray his trust.
She cupped the bowl with both hands and presented it to Cain.
Cain wanted to chug it, but it was too hot. So he sipped it as quickly as he could. He felt himself getting better with each gulp. “Thank you, Umi. Your tea is a lifesaver. My vision is getting sharper and I can tell my headache is fading.”
Umiko smiled while performing a half bow. “Matcha green tea has special powers to heal the body,” she said. “It’s very good for you.”
“The only tea we drink back home is sweet tea, loaded with the power of sugar.” Cain smiled. “You remember that tea I had at Nawlins—the one you tasted?”
“Yes. Sweet tea is good”—Umiko paused—“for dessert.”
Cain laughed, and Umiko covered her mouth and looked nervously around the Zen garden—mindful not to disturb the other retreaters.
“The garden, the landscape, the topography—it’s all magical here,” Cain said. “It looks exactly like it does in the magazines.”
“I can’t wait to show you this place in March or April, when the sakura—the cherry blossoms—bloom.”
“Sakura,” he repeated. “I look forward to coming back with you.”
“Sakura also means to smile, because you always smile when you see the beauty of the cherry blossoms.”
Cain smiled. “Then your parents should have named you Sakura.”
Umiko blushed and turned away for a brief moment before looking back at Cain. “I’m sorry to be so nosy,” she said.
“No,” Cain replied. “Ask me anything.”
“I heard you speak to the monk.”
Cain sighed, embarrassed. “I’m sure I was rambling from the dehydration.”
“We have a popular saying in Japan: Au wa wakare no hajimari.”
“Does it mean to drink plenty of water before doing kendo for two hours in the wilderness with a stick-wielding sensei?” Cain asked, deflecting her question.
“It means ‘Meeting is the beginning of parting.’ We remember the past, but live for the present, because even the present will be the past someday.” After a moment, she said, “Would you like to tell me about what happened?”
Cain paused for a beat. “Normally, I would say no. But if there were ever a time and place”—he inhaled and exhaled slowly—“and a person to share this with, it’s now and with you.”
Umiko prepared him another cup of tea, and one for her. She sipped hers as she listened to him talk.
“Ever since I was a child, I have loved the water. Year-round, after school, friends and I would swim the lakes near my home. They were a lot like the lakes here, but our lakes had catfish instead of koi.” He smiled. “Instead of being lined with rocks, they were lined with dirt and mud.
“My freshman year at the university, I took a scuba diving class. My instructor, Mr. Terry, was a former Navy SEAL. He took a liking to me and became like a mentor. He would tell me exciting stories of scuba diving all over the world—and because he was in the military, the navy paid for it. His favorite spot to dive was off the coast of Thailand. He showed me pictures of him diving off the island of Krabi. The white sand beaches, the crystal clear waters—it all looked like paradise on earth.”
Umiko listened intently as Cain slowly continued his story.
“Truth be told, he was the reason I joined the navy. I wanted to be just like him. But the day I tested to be a diver, I had a head cold. My sinuses wouldn’t equalize. When I descended into the water, my ears burst and my goggles filled with my own blood.”
“That’s horrible!” Umiko closed her eyes and crinkled her face at the thought of blood flooding his mask.
“It was scary,” Cain confessed. “I didn’t know if I had lost my hearing, or what had really happened. But the navy was really good about it. They told me they had enough divers anyway, but what they really needed were pilots. I had already been flying for years. You see, my father is a pilot. Just like your family believes in tradition, mine does, too. My father believed that flying was a tradition that had to be passed down from generation to generation, or eventually it would become too expensive—a hobby just for the wealthy. When the navy learned about this, they sent me to flight school instead.”
“So you were a military pilot?”
“Yes.”
“Like Tom Cruise?”
Cain chuckled. “No. Not like Maverick at all. He flew fighter planes with jet engines. I flew airplanes with four propellers. I carried a crew of six people and we flew for long hours over the ocean looking for Russian submarines and ships carrying tons of drugs from Central America to our shores to poison our people.”
Umiko nodded in acknowledgment.
“But I could never get that paradise image out of my mind. I wanted to scuba dive in Thailand like my instructor had done. Claire Bear—” Cain smiled at the sound and memory of her name. “That was my wife. She was pretty adventurous, but she didn’t want to go. We had a one-year-old son, Christopher, and Claire thought it was too far to travel. I convinced her it would be a great getaway for the whole family. It was a resort and they had childcare services to help us enjoy the vacation. We spent Christmas of 2004 in Krabi.” His thoughts seemed to trail off as he looked skyward. “It was the last Christmas our small family would spend together.”
Umiko’s eyes widened as the timeline started making sense to her. Cain could tell she now had an idea where this tragic story was going.
“I woke up super early on December twenty-sixt
h. I didn’t want to wake her or the baby. I hopped on a scuba boat at the hotel and went out. The sun was coming out by the time we arrived at our first dive location. During my second dive, I was about forty feet below when I saw the boat’s anchor dragging through the ocean floor. I knew something was wrong right away. I had never seen that before, and I couldn’t hear the boat’s motor. So I knew it wasn’t just a hungover captain trying to move his boat while anchored.
“I had to ascend, but I had to go up really slowly. Otherwise, I risked getting decompression sickness. My dive partner, a British traveler who was vacationing alone, surfaced with me. When we popped our heads out of the water, our boat was gone! We dropped our weight belts and inflated our BCDs. We swam for hours and hours to get back to the hotel. We eventually found the boat, but the hotel was practically gone. It looked like it had been bombed.”
Cain’s voice started to shake. “Dead bodies were floating in the water. Cars and roads were not visible anymore. Poisonous snakes were swimming in the water with us. I rushed to where our room had once been. I could barely move. My skin was wrinkled from being in the water for over five hours, and my muscles were failing me from swimming thousands of yards. I was operating on pure adrenaline to rescue my family. I went to our room—what was left of it. It was blocked by broken boards. I grabbed my scuba tank and banged it repeatedly until the boards broke and I was able to enter. Everything was gone.”
Umiko’s tears streamed down her soft face. “Did you find your wife and son?”
Cain lowered his head into his hand. He shook his head no. “Over the next several days, I saw relatives using cooking utensils to dig graves for their loved ones who had died. There were also some monks who were burning the bodies of those who had died. They didn’t even know the names of who they were cremating.”
Cain looked up into Umiko’s eyes. “I cling to the hope they died quickly—even better if it was while they slept together in the hotel bed.”
Umiko embraced Cain and they cried together.
“You will see them again,” she assured him. “On the other side, they will be waiting for you.”
“Do you really think so?” he asked.
“With all my heart.”
Chapter 55
Monday morning approached quickly, but it felt like no other Monday Cain had experienced. He felt different because he was different. He had come to grips with the reality that he could not change the past. He had finally found peace with the tragedy in Thailand. I will strive to live in the present, he promised himself. When it’s my time to die, then I’ll see my Claire Bear and little Christopher. But I will honor their deaths by living.
The world took on a different form. The sky seemed a brighter blue, the grass beneath his feet softer, the air fresher, and the flowers smelled sweeter. And more importantly, Cain’s connection with Umiko was deeper, and his fondness for her continued to grow. The two made sure to sit across from each other during the retreat’s breakfast.
“No wonder everyone is so thin and fit in Japan,” Cain commented to Umiko.
“Because of our diet?”
“Diet is certainly an appropriate word to use here. This has gotta be a first for me—grilled fish on a bed of lettuce for breakfast!”
“What do you normally eat for breakfast?”
“I enjoy cooking, so if I have time, I make a vegetable omelet with bacon. Or, if I’m feeling homesick, I’ll fry beignets.”
“Mm, that sounds delicious. I’ve only seen beignets on television.”
“Oh, they are.” He smiled mischievously. “But don’t take my word for it. I’ll cook for you sometime and you can be the judge.”
“Okay,” Umiko replied. “I will be the judge. But I must warn you: I’m very fair.”
As they were grabbing their belongings in preparation for jumping on the bus and heading back to Yokohama, the monks wandered through the gathering to return the cell phones. Cain grabbed his and looked into the monk’s eyes. They were the same eyes he’d peered into the day before, when he had awakened on the floor.
Cain rested his arms by his side and very slowly bowed. “Domo arigato gozaimasu.”
The monk returned the bow.
“I will never forget you,” Cain said. “You’ve given me something I haven’t had in a very long time: forgiveness.”
“The great Buddha reminds us,” the monk said, “that to have anger is like holding a hot piece of coal to throw at another person. But whoever is holding the hot coal is the one who gets burned. Leave the coal here with nature.”
“I have,” Cain replied, and bowed again.
“Hai,” the monk said as he nodded his head. “Go in peace.”
Cain bowed again and then took his seat on the bus and powered on his phone. The Zen temple grounds were far from the city, so his phone searched for a cell tower. When the bus was on the main road, Cain’s phone chimed and he saw that he’d gotten a voicemail from Bonnie.
“Oh, this is fantastic news,” he said to Umiko. “My sister called. This means she most likely wants to bury the hatchet.”
“Bury the what?”
“The hatchet. You know: like an ax. It’s an expression. Maybe she wants to make up for the fight we had at the Angel Cloud. Even if she doesn’t, I’ll smooth things over with her. This retreat has been life-changing for me. It’s given me a new take on life. And the fact that Bonnie is calling is just lagniappe.”
“Lagniappe?”
Cain laughed. “That’s a Louisiana word for something extra—like icing on the cake. I’ll make lunch plans so we can all get together next weekend.”
“That will be nice. I look forward to meeting her.”
“It’ll be great. We’ll go out to that famous city you’re always talking so fondly about. Kama…Kama…”
“Kura,” Umiko said.
“Kamakura! That’s it,” Cain said.
Umiko’s smile took up her whole face.
Cain’s voicemail finally connected. “You have one message,” the automated voice announced. “Saturday, 9:57 p.m.” Cain put a finger in his opposite ear so he could hear the message. “Cain, why aren’t you answering?” Bonnie’s voice sounded worried. “I think I’m being followed. It’s dark, so I’m not sure, but I think it might be one of those guys you fought at the Angel Cloud. He’s got a limp. Call me back as soon as you get this. I’m almost home now.”
Cain turned to Umiko. “Something’s wrong!”
“What?” Umiko said, surprised.
Cain redialed Bonnie’s number several times. The calls went straight to her voicemail.
“Umi, please call this number and see if you can get through.” He waited impatiently as Umiko powered up her phone and dialed Bonnie’s number.
“It’s a Japanese recording. It says the voicemail is full.”
“Bonnie’s in trouble. Tell the driver to go faster.”
Umiko stood to address the driver. “Sumimasen,” she said with a short bow.
The bus driver raised his voice to be heard over the hum of the engine and said something back to her in hurried Japanese.
Umiko quickly sat back down, and all her friends looked at her. “He asked me to please not stand while the bus is in motion.”
“Good grief,” Cain scoffed while shaking his head. “I’m going to call Tanaka-san. He should be able to shoot over to Bonnie’s apartment and wait there until I get there.”
“How is the retreat?” Tanaka asked when he answered the phone. “Did they make you climb Mount Fuji?”
“Are you in Tokyo?” Cain was speaking quickly. “Could you get to Bonnie’s apartment as soon as possible?”
“I’m at my aero club—not too far away. What’s wrong?”
“I think Bonnie is in trouble. She left me a voicemail. She said one of the guys from the bar the other night was following her.”
“Text me the address, and I will go straight there. I will bring Aito-san with me.”
“I’ll see you there as soon a
s I can. It might be two or three hours given how slow this bus driver is going.”
“I will call you as soon as I get there. We will leave now.”
“Okay. Thanks. Oh, wait: one last thing. Don’t disturb anything. Leave everything just as it is.”
About an hour later, Tanaka telephoned Cain. “I’m here, but I don’t see anything unusual. The door is locked. I rang the doorbell a few times, but nobody answered. Have you called her work?”
“Yes, of course. But United wouldn’t give me her work schedule over the phone. They cited some company policy bullshit. Do you still have some contacts over there?”
“I’ll call and see if they will give me that information,” Tanaka said. “I still have a friend who works the ticket counter at Narita.”
When Cain arrived at Bonnie’s several hours later, Tanaka and Aito were waiting outside her door.
“Thanks for coming,” Cain said, and pounded on the door with his closed fist. “Bonnie, open the door! It’s your brother.” He turned to Tanaka. “Any update?”
“Bonnie was scheduled to fly today,” Tanaka said, and then lowered his head. “But she never showed up.”
Cain pulled out his money clip. He grabbed a credit card and slid it between the doorframe and the door. He jiggled it for a bit until the latch popped open.
“Don’t touch anything,” he instructed Tanaka and Aito. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it. There’s definitely foul play here. Bonnie’s not here, and she was supposed to be on a flight, but her airline badge is on the floor, by the couch.” When he kneeled to pick it up using a tissue, he saw something small out of the corner of his eye. It was under the couch. He got on all fours and looked closer. He carefully pulled the object out from its hiding place. It was an empty syringe, and it had blood drops on the end of the needle.
Cajun Justice Page 21
