Inferno in Tokyo

by Marianne Hering

  Then the glow was suddenly gone.

  Mrs. Woods

  That night Patrick and Beth slept on the floor of room 242. Chibi-chan lay curled in a ball between the cousins. They used the silk window curtains as blankets.

  Patrick’s back was pressed against the wall. He woke when Chibi-chan bonked him on the head with her doll.

  “Ning-yō,” the toddler said.

  “Ouch,” Patrick said. “Stop that.”

  Chibi-chan giggled. She threw the doll against the wall. It split perfectly in half around the middle.

  “She broke the doll,” Patrick said. “Though it’s strange that it broke in a straight line. And it’s hollow.”

  Beth sat up. Her hair was a tangled mess. “It’s a nesting doll,” she said. “It’s supposed to open up and have a smaller doll inside.”

  Beth fitted the doll back together. She handed it to Chibi-chan. “Keep your doll in one piece,” she said to the toddler. “You’ve already lost the smaller doll that fits inside.”

  Chibi-chan snatched the doll and shook it.

  Beth smiled and looked at Patrick. “It’s a miracle we didn’t get burned up,” she said. “The hotel is still standing even after the fire tornado.”

  Patrick yawned. “I didn’t sleep much,” he said. “The whistling wind was eerie. The clanging of the fire-truck bells went on all night. And the shouts from the hotel staff reminded me of the fire.”

  Beth nodded. “The men were up all night with their buckets,” she said. “I kind of wish we could have gone out there too.”

  The bedroom door opened. Mrs. Woods poked her head through the doorway. “They need help in the kitchen,” she said. “Mr. Inumaru asked for you two.”

  Ambassador and Mrs. Woods had been kind to Chibi-chan and the cousins. The children had been allowed to share the ambassador’s room. But Mr. Woods had never even been there. The American embassy staff had worked all night in room 244.

  Chibi-chan crawled toward Mrs. Woods. The woman stepped into the room. She picked up the baby. Chibi-chan pulled on Mrs. Woods’s pearl necklace.

  “I’ll see that this little one gets clean,” Mrs. Woods said. “But then you’ll need to take her to Mr. Kagawa. I hope he can find her parents.”

  If they’re still alive, Patrick thought. He felt sad.

  “Mr. Kagawa?” Beth said. “Where is he?”

  “He’s already outside managing the refugees,” she said. “And thank goodness. The homeless would break into the hotel if he weren’t there. Mr. Kagawa certainly has a way with the Japanese people. They love him so.”

  Patrick remembered what the Dutch ambassador had said about Mr. Kagawa. Not everyone liked him. Patrick asked, “What’s a union man?”

  Mrs. Woods laughed. “A union man gets paid to organize labor groups. Like farmers and factory workers.”

  “Is that what Mr. Kagawa does?” Patrick asked. He stood and stretched.

  Beth was folding the curtains neatly.

  “Not really,” Mrs. Woods said. “Mr. Kagawa is more like a pastor. He studied in America. Now he helps the laborers organize themselves. He teaches them to work together in love. And to look out for one another. One way to do that is for workers to demand higher wages. Sometimes that makes the government angry.”

  “Does Mr. Kagawa get paid?” Beth asked.

  Mrs. Woods shook her head. “Mercy, no,” she said. “He gives money away. Lots of it. He became a famous author while he was in prison.”

  Chibi-chan started to whine. “Oh dear,” Mrs. Woods said. “She needs breakfast. But first she needs cleaning up.” Mrs. Woods took the baby into the bathroom.

  Patrick’s stomach growled. He was hungry too. “I wonder if they’ll let us have something to eat,” he said.

  Beth patted her stomach. “I hope so,” she said.

  Mrs. Woods returned with Chibi-chan. She smiled and said, “Mr. Inumaru made sure there is food for guests. Go to the small dining room on the first floor. There’s breakfast for the foreign-embassy staffs, guests, and Japanese officials.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Patrick and Beth found the dining room. Some of the journalists and Japanese officials were already seated at tables.

  Patrick held Chibi-chan in one arm. He balanced her on his hip. The wood doll was in her hand. Chibi-chan shook it.

  “Ning-yō,” the toddler said.

  Each child in the room was given a bowl. It held a cold rice mixture.

  Beth carried her bowl and Chibi-chan’s. They sat down at a dining table. The backs of the chairs were orange and diamond shaped.

  “I think that’s tofu,” Beth said, looking at her bowl. She poked at a white, square chunk with a pair of chopsticks.

  “What’s tofu?” Patrick asked.

  “It’s like soybean Jell-O,” Beth said. “I’ve had it at restaurants.”

  Patrick wrinkled his nose. He would never eat this at home. But he was so hungry, he gobbled down the entire bowl.

  Beth fed Chibi-chan with chopsticks. Not too much fell off. The toddler ate several chunks of bean curd.

  Patrick felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around.

  Mr. Inumaru was standing beside him.

  “From the US Navy,” the manager said. “A supply ship from the Philippines arrived this morning.”

  He placed a tin of canned meat on their table. “Sorry you can have only one. I wish we had one for each visitor.”

  Patrick gave Beth a smile. They knew two more meat tins were in Babylon. Patrick wondered about the yellow electric gadget from their last adventure. Where was it?

  “Thanks, Mr. Inumaru,” Beth and Patrick said at the same time.

  “No free breakfast,” the manager said. “I need help with the Tesla generator.”

  Patrick’s heart leaped. Tesla!

  Beth’s chopsticks froze halfway to Chibi-chan’s mouth. She asked, “Did you say Tesla?”

  Mr. Inumaru nodded. “All the kitchen stoves are electric,” he said. “The hotel owner bought the best backup generator money could buy. A Westinghouse alternating-current generator. It was designed by Nikola Tesla. The prince wants to see the generator working.”

  Patrick frowned. “So Tesla isn’t at the hotel,” he said.

  Mr. Inumaru gave Patrick an odd look. “Mr. Tesla lives in New York,” the manager said. “We both lived at the Waldorf Astoria hotel during the Great War.”

  Beth dropped her chopsticks and then stood. “You know Mr. Tesla personally?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Inumaru said. “I know many famous Americans. That’s how I got this job. The Astoria is one of the ritzy New York hotels. I was the assistant manager there. I learned how to take care of rich foreigners.”

  “Then Mr. Tesla is rich?” Patrick asked.

  “Not exactly,” Mr. Inumaru said. “He has rich friends . . .” He held up his hands. “Tesla isn’t important now. We need to hook up the generator to cook more rice. The crown prince wants food for the refugees.”

  Beth and Patrick looked at each other.

  “It’s your turn to hold Chibi-chan,” Beth said to her cousin. She crossed her arms.

  “But you got to see the crown prince. You also got to warn the ambassadors about the fire,” Patrick said. “I only got to make rice balls. So you didn’t miss anything when it was your turn to take care—”

  “But at least I took a turn,” Beth said. “You haven’t had one.”

  “Children,” Mr. Inumaru said. “Please choose . . .”

  Patrick sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll take Chibi-chan to Mr. Kagawa. You can help with the generator.” He lifted the child out of the dining chair.

  Beth kissed Chibi-chan on the cheek as a good-bye. She whispered thanks to Patrick. Then she turned toward the hotel manager.

  Patrick waved to Beth as she and Mr. Inumaru left the dining room.

  The Missing Doll

  Beth followed Mr. Inumaru out of the dining room.

  They passed dozens of Europeans and Americans standi
ng in the hallways. The foreigners looked dazed and tired. They had bags, suitcases, and boxes filled with clothes and papers.

  Some of them called out to the hotel manager. But he walked past quickly.

  “Why do you need my help?” Beth asked him. She had to jog to keep up with him. “Can’t someone on staff start the generator?”

  Mr. Inumaru began to walk even faster. “My men are hard workers, but they don’t understand electricity yet,” he said. “They think the generator will restart the fires. The electric company is the building behind the Imperial Hotel. It exploded last night.”

  Beth shivered as she hurried along. “I saw the tornado fire,” she said. “It was scary. I don’t blame them for wanting to avoid another explosion.”

  Mr. Inumaru paused outside the kitchen door. “To be honest,” he said, “I need someone who can read English well and squeeze under the stoves.”

  Beth grinned. “I’m only four feet tall,” she said. “And I can read.”

  Mr. Inumaru pushed open the kitchen door.

  Beth saw hotel staff workers standing at long tables. They were making little triangles of rice. Each rice treat was rolled in spices and then in seaweed.

  Large metal trays were filled with rice balls. The trays covered nearly every empty counter. Several black electric ranges lined the walls. None of them were being used.

  “This way,” Mr. Inumaru said. He led Beth to the back of the kitchen. They stopped at a small wood door.

  Mr. Inumaru turned the doorknob and opened the closet door.

  Only a straw broom and a dirty apron hung from hooks on the wall. Otherwise it was empty.

  “The generator is gone!” Mr. Inumaru cried.

  Patrick stepped outside into the garden area of the hotel. So much had changed from the night before.

  Tables and chairs lined the garden. They had been set up as a small wall to keep the refugees away. Guards dressed in uniform rode horses and carried rifles. Each rifle had a bayonet at the end of it.

  The Japanese refugees were setting up camp. They clustered under the few trees that hadn’t burned yet.

  Green and tan tents stood in rows. They were lined up as far as Patrick could see. The people had their own little stoves. They were cooking what food they had.

  Mr. Kagawa and several members of the hotel staff stood behind a large table. They were handing out rice balls. A line of refugees stood waiting for the food.

  Patrick took Chibi-chan over to one table. They greeted Mr. Kagawa.

  “Good morning,” Mr. Kagawa said. “One or two of the churches in the city didn’t burn. A missionary will be coming to take some of the lost children.”

  Patrick hugged the little girl. His eyes stung. He quickly rubbed them with one hand. He would not cry. But giving Chibi-chan away would be difficult.

  “Why don’t you take Chibi-chan into the garden. See if you can find her family,” Mr. Kagawa said. “Then we will begin searching for your parents.”

  “All right,” Patrick said. He tried to sound calm even though he felt nervous. What if someone tried to take her again? He didn’t speak Japanese. How would he know who her parents were?

  Beth and Mr. Inumaru went through a side door. They walked out onto a patio. She grinned when she saw the generator. Mr. Inumaru groaned.

  Two Japanese soldiers had the machine. It was open and lying on its side. The coils and wires were exposed.

  The soldiers also had a large radio in a wood box. It had clear tubes with wires in it. One of the soldiers was trying to make something.

  Beth thought he was trying to form a homemade antenna. He was connecting scraps of metal and wires.

  “The soldiers are trying to receive messages from ships more than eighteen miles away,” Mr. Inumaru said. “Today information is more important than warm food. I wish them good fortune.”

  Beth said, “Maybe you can cook outside like you’re camping.”

  The hotel manager nodded. “Go find your friend,” he said. “Come back to help roll rice balls.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” Beth promised.

  Beth found Mr. Kagawa. He told her that Patrick was looking for Chibi-chan’s parents. Beth hurried to the refugee camp and found Patrick easily.

  Her cousin was standing near three sumo wrestlers. The large men had their hair pulled back in ponytails.

  One of the men held Chibi-chan. Then he tossed her in the air. She came down, and he caught her again.

  Chibi-chan was laughing.

  But Beth was nervous. What if the man dropped her?

  Beth motioned for the man to hand over Chibi-chan. He gave her up slowly. Beth took the toddler and held her tight.

  “Quick,” Beth said to Patrick. “Let’s say good-bye and leave.”

  Patrick leaned down and picked up Chibi-chan’s blanket and doll.

  “Where to?” Patrick asked. “Those wrestlers didn’t know her.”

  Suddenly a familiar noise sounded. It was like a trumpet blast.

  “Zou!” Beth cried.

  She turned and rushed toward the animal.

  A group of children surrounded him. The animal’s long trunk reached over to “kiss” one of them. They giggled and cheered.

  One little boy stood back from the others.

  Beth walked over to him to see what was wrong. Suddenly Chibi-chan began to talk in Japanese. Beth didn’t understand her.

  But the boy did. He rushed toward Beth.

  “Miho,” he said. He reached toward the child in Beth’s arms.

  Chibi-chan waved her doll.

  The boy pulled something out of his pocket.

  Beth gasped.

  It was a tiny wood toy. The second nesting doll.

  Reunions

  Patrick ran and got Mr. Kagawa. They came back to the crowd of refugees around the elephant.

  Patrick saw Beth holding on to Chibi-chan. She was nodding to a Japanese woman and a man.

  The woman’s head was covered in a white scarf. The man had a hurt leg. A handmade wood crutch was under his left arm. His left leg was bandaged in an old blanket.

  Mr. Kagawa spoke to the parents in Japanese. Patrick thought he heard the word Jesus a few times.

  The man spoke the most. He made his hands look like a bridge. Then he pulled his hands apart.

  Patrick whispered to Beth, “He’s talking about the bridge falling.”

  “That’s where you found Chibi-chan,” Beth said. “She fell into your arms. Her parents must have been on the other side of the bridge.”

  Patrick said, “She didn’t fall. She bounced toward me.”

  Mr. Kagawa motioned to Beth to hand over Chibi-chan. “I’m sure these are her parents,” he said.

  Patrick said, “I’m sure too. Miho and her brother have the doll set. How did the family get separated?”

  Mr. Kagawa said, “They were on the bridge. Mr. Itō hurt his leg when he fell into a hole. Then the bridge moved and pinned it. Mrs. Itō put Miho down to help him. That’s the last they saw of her until now.”

  “Wow,” Beth said. “Thank God he’s still alive.”

  “They are grateful,” Mr. Kagawa said. “They agreed to come listen to more about Jesus. I told them He will care for Miho now and for all eternity.”

  An hour later the cousins were in the kitchen. Each wore an apron. Each was rolling rice balls.

  “Four hundred and thirty-three,” Patrick said. He placed a ball on a tray.

  “Four hundred and thirty-four,” Beth said. “Only nine thousand five hundred sixty-six more to go.” She placed a rice ball on the tray.

  Mr. Inumaru came through the side door of the kitchen. His kind face was split into a wide smile.

  “You won’t believe this,” he said. “The US Navy sent you a gift. It was made in America. And so they thought it belonged at the US embassy. But Mr. Kagawa said it belongs to you. So they put it in the garden. Come outside.”

  Beth and Patrick took off their aprons.

  Patrick beat Beth t
o the patio.

  Beth joined him. She took his hand and squeezed it.

  “It’s the Imagination Station!” she cried.

  Mr. Inumaru took a cloth out of his pocket. He began to wipe down the old car.

  The Imagination Station was covered in sand and seaweed. The driver’s-side door was dented. The glass in the back was cracked in a spider-web design.

  Beth’s heart sank when she remembered it was broken.

  “It doesn’t have any battery power left,” Patrick said. “It’s useless.”

  “Have you tried cranking it up?” Mr. Inumaru asked.

  Beth shook her head.

  Mr. Inumaru went to the front of the car. He bent over and grabbed the crank. He churned it several times.

  Suddenly a light came on inside the machine. Then a great burst of light exploded from the headlights.

  Beth put her arm across her eyes to shield them from the brightness.

  Mr. Inumaru shouted, “What! It can’t be!”

  Beth looked at the car.

  Inside was a man. He was waving the yellow electric gadget. He had thick, dark hair and a thick moustache. He wore a nice suit with a white shirt. He sat in the car with a smug expression on his face.

  “It’s Mr. Tesla!” Mr. Inumaru said.

  To find out about the next book in the series, Adventure in the Big Apple, visit TheImaginationStation.com.

  Secret Word Puzzle

  The Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 happened when three tectonic plates shifted at the same time. One of those plates was under the ocean. That caused a gigantic tsunami. A second plate pushed upward twenty-six feet. That caused the land to roll like waves.

  A Japanese folktale explains earthquakes in a different way. The story tells about a giant creature trapped in the mud under the island. The earth moves if the creature gets loose and thrashes about. The name of that make-believe beast is the answer to the puzzle and the secret word.