The Book of the Pearl

by Carrie Asai

  You are a warrior,I thought.A samurai. Nothing can change that. Not Hiro’s love for Karen, not Cheryl’s friendship, not your job at Vibe.

  You have to keep fighting.

  I breathed deeply. The images were all still there, but now they lingered on the sidelines. I might not be able to get “empty,” but at least I had an answer for now.

  I opened my eyes and sighed. I’d known the answer when I woke up this morning, but now I was ready to accept it. It wasn’t just that I was putting my life in order. It waswhy I had to.

  I would keep fighting. For Ohiko. For myself.

  12

  “How about a drink, Heaven?” A. J. asked as I came behind the bar to refill my shot tray.

  “No, thanks,” I said as I squirted myself a Coke from the hand pump. “Soda’s fine.”

  “Off the sauce, huh?” A. J. asked with a grin.

  “Well, you know—I don’t mix business with pleasure!” I laughed. I lined up shot glasses along the bar and decided to make what were called “Rock Lobsters.” One part Chambourd, one part Grand Marnier, a finger of Crown Royal, and a dash of cranberry juice—the lobster in the rock. I was turning into a regular chemist behind the bar. The more ingredients, the better. A. J. pretty much let me decide which shots I was going to make as long as I mixed it up with every turn on the floor I did. When all the little lobsters were ready, I downed my Coke and headed back out.

  Two girls stopped me for shots, laughing and chatting as they struggled in their bags for cash. It reminded me that I still hadn’t made any progress on number 6 on my list—making things right with Cheryl. I’d still barely seen her, for one thing, and each time she’d been home, it was more of the same. She hadn’t slept in her bed either night, and I really, really hoped she’d crashed with some other friend of hers and not with Marcus.

  As if in answer to my thoughts, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “Have you seen Marcus?” Cheryl’s voice was cool, and she wouldn’t look me in the eye. I tried to mask my surprise at seeing her. She’d avoided Vibe, too, since we stopped speaking. She was dressed in one of her trademark tiny skirts, and her hair was spiked up with gel—she’d shoved a big red hibiscus flower behind her ear, which clashed a little with her pink streaks. The look was very Kelly Osbourne meets—well, the eighties. But I had to give her credit—Cheryl had a gift for fashion. And shealways stood out in a crowd. I suddenly felt dowdy in my black flared pants and motorcycle boots. I’d meant to go shopping for some new work clothes, but going alone hadn’t seemed like much fun, so I’d just put it off. I guess secretly I was hoping that Cheryl would forgive me and we could go together. She knew all the best places.

  “No, sorry,” I answered, wishing that I had so at least I’d have something else to say to her. “How’s it going?” I asked lamely. “Haven’t seen you at home very much.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Cheryl said offhandedly. I must have looked hurt because she quickly added, “Work. I’ve been pulling long shifts.” It went against Cheryl’s nature to be a total witch.

  I nodded.

  “Excuse me? Can we get our shots?” I turned back toward my two customers, and by the time I’d made change for them, Cheryl was gone. I scanned the crowd and saw that she had found Marcus and his pals, and they were all moving into a big booth. Marcus grabbed one of the waitresses and whispered what I could only hope was just his order in her ear. I noticed him run his hand down her leg, too.What a scumbag, I thought. Well, there was nothing I could do. Cheryl was a big girl. She’d have to fend for herself.

  When I returned to the bar with my empties, A. J. waved me over.

  “Heaven—you got a minute?”

  “For you, ten.” I was feeling more and more comfortable at Vibe these days, and it was second nature to tease A. J.

  “Great—listen,” A. J. said, wiping down the bar—he never stopped moving and was one of those people who could do twelve things at once and never even break a sweat, “We need a new bartender. Nina’s quitting—”

  “Quitting?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. Nina had never once been on time since I’d started working at Vibe, and I knew A. J. had probably had something to do with her “quitting.” Not that I cared. She’d been nothing but a pain in my butt since I started at Vibe.

  “Well—okay. She’s been asked to resign. And since you said you’d be available for more shifts—how’d you like to take her place?”

  I grinned. When A. J. had mentioned the possibility of me tending bar before, I’d thought he meant in about six months—not right away. But it would mean bigger money, and it would certainly be a lot more interesting. I’d have my own place in no time. Now that I was settling into this new phase, I was definitely willing to take on the responsibility.

  “Is Nina still coming in tonight?”

  “She was supposed to but…I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again.”

  “I’d love to!” I said, hoping A. J. was right and that I’d never have to see Nina again. I gave A. J. a hug. “Thank you so much!”

  “Cool.” A. J. looked pleased. And was he maybe blushing just a little bit? “Can you come in early tomorrow? I’ll start going over the routine with you, and in a week or two we can put you behind the bar—we’ll start off with slower nights so you can get your bearings, and after a month or so we’ll start you regularly. No more slinging shots.”

  “Awesome!” I glowed as I prepared my next set of shots. Getting my attitude in place had improved things in every part of my life. Maybe now everything else would fall in line. Maybe.

  Vibe was packed that night, and as I did my rounds, I couldn’t help keeping an eye out for Cheryl. She looked serious, like she wasn’t having the best time. I wondered if she was getting tired of Marcus. I steered clear of their table—I didn’t want to ruin the good vibe (no pun intended) I had going on.

  Check it out, check it out, hey, yo yo,

  I’m packin’ cash like Konishi Kogo

  I froze in the middle of handing a bill back to a customer. They were literally playing my song. I glanced over at the bar, and A. J. gave me a thumbs-up. It was a little tribute to me. Thankfully, I didn’t think anyone in Vibe would notice. Not a lot of Japanese people around. Instinctively I looked over at Cheryl.

  As soon as I saw her, my heart shot into my throat. Trouble.

  She and Marcus had separated from his group of banger friends and were standing against the wall in a darkened side of the club. They looked like they were arguing about something, and as I watched, Marcus grabbed Cheryl’s arm. Cheryl pulled away and started gesturing. I could see she was yelling at him, and he was shaking his head, a deadly look on his face. I stared at them, frozen in place. It was as though everything else going on around me faded away, and all I could see was the two of them.

  He pushed her back, and Cheryl stumbled. She looked shocked. Marcus got up in her face and yelled something, and Cheryl looked around, her face suddenly more panicked than angry. I swallowed hard and waited, not knowing what to do. Would Cheryl just hate me more if I tried to break it up? I contemplated getting Matt but couldn’t decide. If I got the bouncer and nothing was wrong, then Marcus wouldreally have it out for me. And Cheryl might never forgive me.

  I put my tray down on an empty table, not taking my eyes off them. Marcus had grabbed Cheryl again, and this time she couldn’t get out of his grip. In the next instant he spun her toward the wall, and I saw him raise his arm. Before I could stop myself, I yelled, “No!”

  I saw the blow coming. He slapped her across the face. Hard.

  The music swallowed my shout, and I felt weak for a moment, as though I was the one who’d been slapped. It was hard to believe what I was seeing. Cheryl raised her hand to her cheek in disbelief, and Marcus grabbed her around the waist and started dragging her toward the exit. Marcus ducked down and said something to his friends as they passed the table, and I saw him grab Cheryl’s bag and jacket and shove them into her grip. She looked stunned—shell-shocked.r />
  Suddenly the situation became all too real. I pushed my way through the crowd, trying not to lose sight of them. Where the hell was he taking her? I came out on the other side of the dance floor in time to see Marcus drag Cheryl up the steps. Why was she going with him? Did he have a weapon?

  Just before she disappeared up the stairway, Cheryl turned around. Her mascara ran down her cheeks in two dark streaks, and she had a wild look in her eyes.

  “Cheryl!” I yelled.

  She looked at me, then shook her head twice and mouthed the word, “No.”

  With another jerk she was gone, up the stairway.

  I stood at the foot of the stairs, racked with indecision. What was I supposed to do? Whatcould I do if Marcus had a gun? Would following Cheryl make things worse for her? Was she still so angry at me that she didn’t want my help?Don’t be an idiot, Heaven, I told myself.You just saw him hither. She needs you. End of story.

  I ripped off my apron and ran back to the bar.

  “A. J.—I have to take a break—I’m sorry—there’s an emergency.” I shoved my wad of bills into his hand and grabbed my sweatshirt from where I’d stowed it under the bar. I scrabbled through my bag, looking for one of the switchblades I’d pocketed from the muggers. I’d been carrying it around with me since the night Cheryl and I were attacked. I wasn’t a knife fighter—I’d trained with the katana, but knife fighting was a whole different ballgame. You had to get far closer to your opponent if you wanted to do any damage. I palmed the knife and slipped it into my sweatshirt, hoping A. J. didn’t see what I was doing. I wasn’t about to head out without some kind of protection.

  “What? What’s going on?” A. J. looked half concerned and half irritated.

  “I’ve got to run, A. J. I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to.”

  A. J.’s expression changed to one of total concern. “Do you want me to call Matt?”

  “No, thank you—I…” I knew I couldn’t tell him what was going on. “It’s just some personal stuff, A. J.” Would I ever be able to be honest withanyone?

  “Heaven—wait…”

  But I couldn’t wait anymore. Cheryl needed me. I vaulted up the stairs, past Matt on his bar stool, and headed into the night. I wasn’t going to let another person I cared about get hurt.

  That much I knew.

  13

  I burst out of Vibe and plowed through the group of people waiting in line to get in.

  “Hey!”

  I ignored the catcalls and shouts and made it out onto the street just in time to see Cheryl and Marcus rounding the corner. I sprinted to the end of the street, flattened myself against the side of a building, and peered around its edge. Marcus was dragging Cheryl along—it looked like wherever they were going, they were going on foot. I took a deep breath and focused, ready to slip into shinobi-iri—the ninja “invisibility” skill that I’d mastered when Karen was kidnapped. It was hard to explain exactly what I did to get myself into that invisible space—it was a trick of the mind and body that defied definition. All I knew was that I could feel my body adjusting to the change just like I was slipping on a comfortable old coat. I slid down the street after them using “sideways walking,” letting the shadows dictate my progress. Anyone watching wouldn’t have seen me—just the outline of a dark shape out of the corner of the eye, a flicker in the darkness—a momentary disruption in the streetscape.

  The dim, widely spaced streetlights worked both for me and against me—they gave me more shadows in which to slink, but I had a hard time keeping Cheryl and Marcus in view. We were heading deeper into the industrial part of town, and I registered that I was losing my bearings.

  Suddenly Marcus and Cheryl stopped. I shrank back into the cover of a metal fire escape, straining my eyes for a better view. Cheryl was struggling against Marcus now, fighting him. I held back, every particle of my being wanting to go out and help her, but knowing that I had to get a better read on the situation before I could.

  Marcus grabbed Cheryl under the arms and dragged her down the street. Cheryl kicked fiercely, and I saw Marcus grab his shin.Stop, stop, I telegraphed mentally, trying to send my brain waves out to Cheryl.You’re just making him angrier. Cheryl fell out of Marcus’s grasp for a moment, but her high-heeled boots slipped and skidded on the ground, and she fell to her knees. He hauled her up again, and they moved forward.

  I needed help. If there was one thing I’d learned, it was that going into a situation like this one without backup could be deadly. I stayed as close as I dared, and after another block I found a pay phone. I picked up the receiver. The line was dead.

  I scanned the street and saw there was another phone on the opposite corner. But to get there, I’d have to leave the shadows. Marcus and Cheryl had stopped, and Marcus was using one hand to talk on his cell phone and holding Cheryl around the neck (with his hand over her mouth) with the other. Cheryl had stopped fighting for the time being. I waited until Marcus turned away and then I lunged across the street, rolling and ducking into an alleyway on the opposite side.

  Marcus turned around, and I held my breath. Had he seen something?

  No. They turned the corner.

  Without thinking, I grabbed the phone. A dial tone. I fished some change out of my pocket and dialed Hiro’s number.Please be home, please, I prayed. I had no idea what Karen’s number was. Hiro was my only hope. Seconds ticked by…

  “Hello?” Hiro’s groggy, muffled voice came on the line. I shook with relief.

  “Hiro—I need you. Cheryl’s in trouble, and I don’t know if I can take care of it alone,” I whispered.

  “What?” Hiro sounded confused. “I can’t hear you.”

  I raised my voice as much as I dared and tried again. “I just—listen—I can’t explain everything right now. But I need your help. I’m at”—I paused, squinting at the street signs—“Cesar Chavez and Alameda. Right by the freeway—but heading north.”

  “Do. Not. Move,” Hiro said, and I could hear him rustling around—probably throwing on his clothes. I couldn’t help wondering if Karen was there. “I’ll be there soon.”

  “I can’t stay here, Hiro,” I said. “I have to follow them.”

  “Stay,” Hiro said, and clicked off. I slammed down the phone. If anyone could find us, it was Hiro. I ran off, hoping that I hadn’t lost Cheryl and Marcus. No—they were moving underneath the highway. I skirted from column to column, trying to ignore the rumbling of the traffic overhead and stay focused. I felt trapped in some nightmarish cityscape right out ofThe Matrix. I scooted along a chain-link fence, using the heaps of piled-up building materials as a shield, and tried to keep Marcus and Cheryl in view. They’d crossed under the highway.

  That’s when I realized—they were heading for Union Station. The question was, why?

  A few taxis still idled in front of the huge, stucco building, which looked like it had been lifted right off a movie set of Los Angeles circa 1925. I knew from the guidebooks I’d read about the city when I first arrived that the building was a sort of landmark, although I’d never seen it in real life. It was decorated with Spanish-style tiling and looked more like some of the mansions up in the hills than a train station. Was Marcus taking Cheryl on a train out of town? I doubted there was anything pulling out at two-thirty in the morning, although the station did seem to be open. Marcus and Cheryl were moving more quickly now, and the busy street and noise allowed me to follow them much more closely. Just as I thought they were definitely heading for the main entrance, Marcus made a sharp left and veered around toward the side of the building. My mind raced. I had to be prepared for anything—but I had no idea what I was headed for. If Marcus wanted to get Cheryl alone, to hurt her in some way, then why would he risk coming back out into the open like that?

  The answer was simple. He was going underground.

  I watched in horror as Marcus pulled Cheryl down into the steps of the subway station. I’d never been in L.A.’s system, but I knew
from my few experiences riding the TRTA—Tokyo’s subway—and from taking the Metro in Paris that subway stations were not optimal for fights. Narrow platforms, winding transfer passageways, and lots and lots of crowds. It would be insane for me to go down there.

  But what could I do? Cheryl needed me.

  I ripped off my sweatshirt and draped it over the metal railing that guarded the stairwell, praying that Hiro would see it. If he did, I knew he’d recognize it because I’d worn it practically every day during my first few months in the city. It was one of the only pieces of clothing I’d had, besides a pair of jeans and a few T-shirts. I felt in my back pocket for the switchblade. It was still there, and the feel of it comforted me. A little.

  I slid down the steps, concentrating on making my footsteps as light as a cat’s. The ceilings were high in the station, and I could hear Marcus and Cheryl arguing before I was even down the stairs.

  When I reached the bottom of the steps, I saw that a metal grating had been wrenched open, and several padlocks hung loose from the twisted metal. The subway was closed—I remembered then how Cheryl had told me that the subways in L.A. closed at night.

  I made my way past the ticket vending machines and stopped. Everything was quiet now. I looked around desperately, wondering why some helpful policeman didn’t appear or even some homeless guy who was looking for somewhere warm to spend the night. But no—I was alone, except for Cheryl and Marcus. And it looked like I’d have to take on this problem myself.

  I took a deep breath and strode out onto the platform, abandoning my invisibility. I could summon it again if I needed to, but right now I wanted to get a clear, total image of the space I was dealing with.

  The platform was deserted. Cathedral ceilings soared over the empty tracks, giving the station the feel of some kind of futuristic church. Wooden benches lined the platform, which was wider than I’d expected.

  “Matta attane,”uttered a deep voice, in flawless Japanese.So we meet again. I whirled around, expecting to see another yakuza hit man, maybe even the same guy who’d come after me before.