Gutless

March 10, 2011

THE GOOD LIFE

Kenji Shimane’s hands ached to slice through the sparkling blue water and paddle out to the deep sea to catch a wave. Gazing out at the ocean on a chilly March day, he could feel his belly rubbing on his smooth surfboard. He ran his hand over his chest, hoping to feel his wet slick body, but instead, he felt his fleece top.

Kenji-kun, his mother cried out from the other end of the gift shop. Could you take everything off this shelf and wipe it down?

It would be months before the water would be warm enough to surf on the northeast coastline of Honshu, the main island of Japan, but he dreamed anyway.

Kenji!

"Hai, hai," yes, yes, he answered.

He wended his way between aisles filled with seashells painted with their resort town’s name, wind chimes, and dolphin pendants until he reached his mother. Black streaks smudged the knee-length apron that covered her tangerine-colored sweater and jeans. Her ponytail swung when she lifted a large snow globe of their historical downtown street.

I’ll get that. He grabbed it out of her arms and set it on the counter. Cold months meant cleaning when no tourist would stroll into their shop for gifts and souvenirs everyone expected back home. During the summer, the crucial time for their business, he wanted to surf from sunup to sundown, but customers constantly moseyed in and out of their beachfront store, restricting him from riding the waves as much as he wanted. He hated the necessary task of cleaning, but there was no surfing in the winter.

You’ll have to wash each globe then clean the shelf. Mother smiled and pointed to a bucket of soapy water and some rags.

Kenji groaned.

You want your pay, right? she asked.

He nodded.

Thank you, she said brightly and disappeared through the doorway that led into their home behind the store.

He glared at the bucket. Don’t think about the drudgery, he said to himself. Think of the new board I’m going to get this summer with the money. And tomorrow’s Friday, so the weekend’s coming up. There was a lot to look forward to. He was scrubbing the last shelf when his seven-year-old sister, Momo, bounded up to him.

Oniichan—Older Brother—I’m done sweeping the front of the store. I want to wrestle. She danced on her toes and clapped her hands. Sumo, sumo, sumo, she chanted.

He couldn’t help himself and laughed. Her plump cheeks, her grin, her excitement over every little thing always made him want to grab her, spin her, and throw her up in the air, but there was no room in the store. He didn’t like sumo, but he could never say no to her.

I guess no one’s going to come buy anything, he said. I’ll finish this tonight. It’ll be dark soon, so we can’t play too long.

Momo giggled, slipped on her jacket and shoes, and shot out the door to the beach. Kenji tossed on his windbreaker and trotted after his sister, the damp, frosty air biting his face. The sun had no strength to warm him. The smell of ocean smacked him, and he beamed. By the time he caught up with his sister, she had found a piece of driftwood and was digging a circle in the firm sand large enough to fit a small car. He nodded to show his approval of her sumo ring.

Your circle is getting to be the right size and actually round, not like a squished bug you used to draw, he said.

I never drew squished bugs! She threw herself at him.

He fit his hands under her arms and lifted her off the ground.

Spin me, spin me! she begged.

Seven years younger than him and half his size, she was so light, it was like twirling a kitten. He spun her around and around, and her little body flew horizontal to the ground. She screamed with joy. He whirled her until he became dizzy and had to let her down.

Let’s wrestle! she shouted.

"Chotto matte, wait a minute, he said. He bent over, his hands on his knees, until he felt stable again. Ready."

I’m Hakuho. She puffed out her chest. Hakuho was the second Mongolian to ever hold the highest rank in sumo.

He’s awfully big. It’s hard to take down someone his size.

That’s why I’m going to win.

Momo beat him into the ring and mimicked a professional wrestler. She took her position at one end of the ring, spread her feet wide, squatted, then alternated lifting her legs to the side, stomping each foot hard on the damp sand.

Kenji crouched at the opposite side of the circle from her, put on a fierce face, and tramped his feet on the ground to make as much noise as possible. He waited for her to move. As soon as she sprang up, he charged. He was small for his age, surfing in areas away from the bigger boys who kicked him around if they thought he was trying to ride their wave, but he was huge compared to his sister. He could have easily tossed her to the ground or pushed her out of the ring, but he let her thrash him around.

Ahhh, ohhhh, he grunted. After a few minutes of pretending to be whipped around by her, he let her shove him over. He rolled on the sand and gasped for breath as if he had fought with all his might.

I won, I won! Momo ran around the beach, her hands high in the air.

He laughed. They wrestled until the sun dipped over the mountain, and the breeze bit into them.

When they got home, he asked Mother where his father had been all day.

He’s been busy negotiating a loan in Yonshima. The bank wants all sorts of records.

Times were tough. The store was busy during high season, but not like it was before 2008.

Go wash your hands for dinner, she told the kids. Your father just pulled up.

Papa! Papa! Momo greeted their father at the door and wrapped her arms around him. He dropped his bags on the floor, kneeled, and squeezed her back.

What did you bring? she cried.

Kenji smelled their favorite dorayaki—two thick pancakes with sweetened bean paste in the middle—and his mouth began to water. Father opened the top of one of the bags.

Dorayaki! She clapped and jumped around. The dorayaki shop in their town of Shiroumi closed with the tourist season and would not reopen for a couple more months. Can I have one now?

Mother laughed. All right. I’ll wait a few minutes before serving dinner. Let me warm them up.

She stuck the bag in the microwave. After the oven pinged, Momo dug her hand into the bag, snatched out a treat, and bit a large hunk off. Her mouth looked like a chipmunk’s cheeks full of nuts. Kenji couldn’t help laughing. He, too, rustled his hand in the bag for one. Everybody munched, their eyes smiling, their mouths busy.

Mother had made potato croquettes for dinner, Kenji’s favorite. He figured that she was making up for all the cleaning he was doing this winter for the gift shop.

The family was seated at the table in the warm kitchen before Kenji said, I want to buy the new Yakuza video games.

He took a mouthful of hot, soft, deep fried, breaded mashed potato. Ummm. Mother always made them with plenty of butter, meat, and milk.

No! his father barked, his hawk nose looking sharper than usual.

Momo’s eyes flicked up in surprise at their usually gentle father.

Why not? I’ve earned the money.

You’ll have nothing to do with the mafia!

They’re just games, Kenji argued. Everyone has them. You said I couldn’t have them when I was younger, but I’m fourteen, now.

Father clunked down his chopsticks and shook his head. They’re brutal men. There shouldn’t even be games about organized crime. Killing, drug dealing, human trafficking. It’s shameful.

Aren’t they getting into legitimate businesses, now? Kenji asked.

I wouldn’t believe a word they said. They’re criminals. Don’t even think about getting those games.

Kenji puffed out a frustrated breath. He would have to play the games at his friends’ homes.

It’s my money, he grumbled and chewed on the rest of his dinner, but it tasted sour now.

Can we go to Tokyo during spring break? Momo asked. I want to climb the Tokyo Tower and go to Disneyland.

The parents glanced at each other. A corner of Mother’s mouth twitched. Father drew his lips into a hard line.

Maybe, Mother said.

That’s what you always say, and we never go. Momo pouted.

She was right. No matter how many times Kenji and his sister had asked to see the capital city, their parents hedged. Ultimately, they never went. What did they have against the city? He felt sorry for his sister. Tourists flocked to their town. A section of downtown was famous for the original buildings that had housed famous artisans who had produced woodblock prints, carved wooden dolls, and painted scrolls. Visitors raved over the cultural beauty of the place, but after a relaxing vacation, they went back to their exciting lives in cities with concerts, huge recreation centers, and stores with the latest cool shoes. Momo had seen kids having fun in the cities on TV, and she wanted that experience. He would have argued for her, but he had just lost his own battle, and he didn’t want to fight more when he knew the outcome would not be favorable.

We’ll consider it, Father said.

That means we’re not going. Momo tilted her spoon and let her miso soup dribble back into her bowl.

Watch your manners, Mother said softly.

Sand had wedged under Kenji’s collar from wrestling with his sister, and he wished he could take a bath right after dinner, but he finished cleaning the store first. Their house was one of the quaint structures visitors gawked at. Quaint meant that it was old, had no shower, and wires had to be strung along the walls to get satellite TV. He only took showers at school after gym classes. The only thing new was a section of red tiles on the roof to fix a leaky spot. The rest of the tiles were brown, but the red ones had been on sale.

Sitting on the cedar stool in the washing area of the room designated solely for bathing, he scrubbed himself clean and poured buckets of hot water over himself to wash away soap scum before plunging into the deep tub.

He scrunched himself into a ball, sucked in a large breath, held it, ducked under the water, and counted. By the time he had counted to sixty, his lungs began to burn. He had practiced a year before he could hold his breath for a full minute, and he gritted his teeth to get to a minute and ten seconds. If he fell in the ocean while surfing and his board caught on a coral or a rock, he needed time to unbuckle his ankle leash. A minute might not be enough. But after another three seconds, he jerked his head out of the water and gasped in a huge breath of moist air.

He needed more practice.

Chapter 2

TSUNAMI

The next morning, Momo readied for school by buttoning her white and silver coat. She pretended to be a dolphin by raising her arms over her head and wiggling her body.

Okay, Flipper, don’t forget your scarf. Kenji wound the peach-colored wool wrap around her neck. Peach was her favorite color since her name meant peach.

Kenji threw his Nike pack over his shoulder and

enveloped his sister’s hand in his. Momo swung her arms wide and skipped to keep up with her brother.

They traveled away from the ocean through the historic downtown area. The streets were full of children heading up to school. Once they reached the concrete staircase that shot up to the top of the hill where his junior high school was, Momo grabbed the steel banister and began climbing. After two flights of stairs, they were at Momo’s elementary school built into the side of the hill.

Learn a lot and get smart. He let go of her hand at the sidewalk that led to her classroom.

She waved goodbye.

He had taken three steps up the stairs before he heard her scream. When he spun around, he saw her sprawled on the sidewalk and felt a jolt in his chest. He jumped down the steps, ran to her, and crouched next to her. Are you okay? What happened?

You creep! You meany! she shouted at a boy who appeared to be a few years older than her, trotting to the school entrance. He knocked me over.

The boy slowed down, half-turned to her, yelled, Sorry, kept going, and disappeared into the building.

What a brat. Kenji lifted Momo up. Let’s see. The palms of her hands were scraped but not bleeding. Her clothes had protected her knees from the concrete. You look all right. How do you feel? Do you want me to walk you in?

I’m okay.

She waved again and joined the other kids scurrying into the school. Kenji waited until he couldn’t see her anymore then sprinted up thirty steps to his school.

* * *

At 2:46 that afternoon, a warning siren shrieked and made Kenji drop his pencil on his trigonometry assignment. The squawking loudspeaker made his stomach turn over. How bad would it be this time? He listened to the principal on the speaker.

A large earthquake has been detected out in the ocean. Aftershocks are expected. Take precautions.

The math teacher unplugged the space heater he used in drafty spots to prevent fire in case it tipped over. Take cover!

Kenji and the other students slid out of their seats and had barely crouched under their desks when the ground began to move. He gripped the legs of his desk, gritted his teeth, and tensed his toes in his sneakers as the floor rumbled under the soles of his feet. His pencil fell onto the floor with an eerie click and jumped about, sending a shiver up his back.

The girl next to him let out a small cry.

The boy across the aisle swore.

Kenji’s pulse raced. The shrimp tempura in his stomach from lunch threatened to come up, but he swallowed and tried to calm himself. He always wondered if this was the big one, the one that would send walls crashing down on him.

A half minute of shaking felt like an hour. Then the world was stable again.

He blew out a breath and crawled out from under his desk. Some kids’ faces were ashen. One boy stayed under his desk, his eyes closed.

Everyone hated earthquakes.

The teacher stood up from behind his desk, swallowed, and said, That was just a small tremor, so we’ll stay in the classroom, but stay prepared.

Kenji made an anxious face to his friend Sho. Aftershocks were unpredictable. He didn’t know if there would be more. All he could do was stay alert and keep working on his math problem to distract himself from thoughts of dying. Wired nerves prickled the back of his neck, but he picked up the worksheet that had slipped onto the floor, placed it back on the desk, and took his seat. He retrieved his pencil from the floor and went back to calculating the lengths and angles of triangles. He was finishing his last assignment when another alarm sounded, and a second announcement blasted from the main office.

A tsunami warning has been issued. Our school is a designated tsunami shelter. Stay in your classrooms. Do not leave the school until further instructions.

The school, being high above the town, was in no danger from a tsunami.

I wonder if my grandmother will climb up here, Sho said. She lived a few blocks from the ocean at sea level near Kenji’s home on the beach.

We have the seawall, so even if she doesn’t, she should be all right, Kenji said.

Sho nodded back. Even so...I’m worried.

Knowing he was violating the school rule against using cell phones, Kenji dialed his mother. Have you heard about the tsunami?

Yes. Thanks for your concern.

He heard affection in her voice. Are you going to come up here?

I think the seawall will protect us, but just in case, we’ll come up to your school as soon as your father gets back from his errand. We’ll pick up Sho’s grandmother and your sister on the way.

Okay, see you then.

He hung up and told his friend what his mother had said. He figured if the seawall protected the beach, his family was in no danger, but he still fretted. The ocean was powerful.

Good, Sho said.

At 3:15 when school ended, thirty minutes had passed since the aftershock. Kenji, his tension unwinding, began reading Blue Exorcists manga comic book. He was caught up in a fight between his favorite character and a demon when the teacher got up and peered out the window. Kenji paid no attention to him until he heard Sho ask, What is it, Yamanaga Sensei?

Kenji looked up and saw his teacher’s mouth drop and his eyes bug out. Kenji rushed to the window and turned white.

Shinjirarenai! Unbelievable, he cried.

The rest of the class dashed to the window.

Hundred-foot waves, as wide as the beachfront, blackened the horizon and sped straight toward the town. He had never seen the ocean roil like that, even on the stormiest day. No ten-foot seawall was going to hold back these waves.

"It’s huge!" Kenji rasped as if the tsunami had sucked out his vocal cords.

No! One girl cupped her hand over her mouth.

"Hidoi! No way, Sho screamed. My grandmother will never make it!" He clutched his head in his hands.

The sea that Kenji had surfed thousands of times had turned from beautiful blue to sickening gray and rolled like a curved sheet of steel. Even from this distance, he felt the hardness of the water. The cold and heartless sea would suck up everything in its path, shred it, and spit it out. He gripped the windowsill so hard that he thought his fingers would crush through it.

My parents are still down there. Momo’s at her school, Kenji muttered.

He hadn’t worried about Momo because her school was two stories above sea level, but he now saw that the monster waves were far taller than where the elementary school was located. Saying the words out loud sent a bolt of alarm through him and woke him up from shock. What can I do? I can’t just watch them die! He slammed his hand on the windowsill.

A girl glanced over, her face terror-stricken, and began to cry.

The teacher raised his palms to the class. Everyone, calm down. We’re safe up here.

Yes, we’re safe, but my family isn’t. Kenji blasted out of the classroom and dashed down the corridor.

His teacher raced after him, shouting, Kenji, stop!

Kenji’s belly shrunk as hard as a piece of coral. How could he save his family? Think, think! His stunned brain couldn’t come up with a plan. His hands clenched in tight fists. He didn’t know how fast the tsunami was traveling, but eyeing the waves, he figured that he might have five minutes before it hit the coastline. He slapped his head for ideas, but none came to him.

Kenji, don’t go out there.

Ignoring his teacher, he banged open the outside door and ran. He had reached the steps that dropped down to the town when a hand gripped his arm and stopped him.

You’re going to get yourself killed! Yamanaga Sensei’s face was red, and veins on his forehead stuck out like spider legs. You have to stay here.

Kenji jerked his arm to shake him off, but the teacher dug his fingers deep and held on. We’re powerless against forces of nature.

Let me go! Kenji thrashed his body around. Hurry, hurry! The tsunami was speeding toward his family! His heart jumped around in his chest like a caged rabbit, and he threw his weight down the steps with as much force as he could. The math teacher clutched the iron railing with his free hand and leaned back to keep Kenji from falling down the stairs.

The tsunami was reaching land! Kenji watched in horror as the angry ocean rose up like a cobra ready to strike. His throat closed up in fear. A flock of birds rose and flapped their wings frantically toward the sky. Dogs and cats ran up the hill. The water moved as fast as race cars, yet the air was dangerously still.

When Kenji surfed in the tube in the center of a wave, he loved being one with the sea, filling his nose with the briny scent as a curtain of water wrapped