The Gatekeeper's Son (12 page)

Shoko looked surprised, but when she realized what I was doing, she pushed her arms into the sleeves and zipped it up to her neck. “Thank you, Junya.”

I nodded and stuffed my hands into my pockets, determined not to show her how cold being valiant could be.

She flipped her braids over the jacket. “You fight well—very fast.” Then the smile disappeared. “But that temper of yours, that energy, it must be controlled.”

I frowned at her. “How can I control something if I don’t know what it is?”

She didn’t answer.

“I talked to my grandpa today. He told me a bunch of stuff … weird stuff.”

Her eyes lighted up. “About my mother?”

“What’s your mom’s name?”

“Tomi.”

I wasn’t surprised. “My grandpa said he went to the desert to find a treasure—he had a map.”

She looked confused. “He had a map to …”

“Yeah, apparently he passed out trying to find the place and your mom rescued him.” I stopped and turned to her. “What was a Japanese woman doing in the Mojave Desert?”

Shoko gave me a sly smile. “The Japanese love to sightsee.” Then her face grew serious. “My mother thought she did the right thing. But she regretted it when she saw how the gold changed Edward.”

“What’d it do to him?”

“It made him greedy. I believe it changed his destiny, and my mother thinks she is responsible for that. I also know she regrets not going with him.”

I couldn’t wrap my mind around what I was hearing. “So did you read the journal?”

She wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Most of it. Edward also felt much regret over losing my mother. If only she felt it, that would be sad, but that they both felt it is far sadder.”

We walked on, lost in our own thoughts, until we reached the old fire box at the top of the hill. She stopped and rested a hand on top of it. “Can we start again?”

“What?” I was still lost in my own thoughts. “Start what again?”

“If you believe I stole the journal, then I did.” She shook her head. “And yet you still came and helped me. I would not have done the same.” A tear escaped her right eye and slid past that lone freckle. “Will you meet me tomorrow? We can talk more about all this.” Her long eyelashes flashed at me. “I will bring the journal, and …”

“And what?”

“Maybe we could ride the cable cars together and have hot chocolate.” She gave me a sheepish smile. “I want to know you better.”

I nodded, shocked. Did she just ask me out?

“I’m … uh … sure.” I looked away for a second. “Let’s see, tomorrow’s …. ah, Tuesday. I could meet you somewhere after school, I guess.”

She looked happy. Like a gentleman, I insisted she keep my jacket.

It wasn’t until I was through my front gate and halfway to the door that I stopped. What was I thinking? I was letting her walk away alone at night—again!

I ran back to where we’d parted.

I felt the wave as I reached the middle of the intersection. It blew down the hill toward me, but somehow it didn’t scare me this time. I didn’t flinch and it blew past, nothing more than a warm breeze. Then I turned a slow circle, remnants of the wind still rustling my hair. Shoko had vanished.

CHAPTER

11

Powell and Geary is always packed with tourists visiting Union Square, but I hadn’t been able to think of anywhere else when Shoko and I made plans the night before.

I walked a block from the Muni bus. The day was warm, the sky cloudless, and I felt like a fish swimming upstream against the crowd that poured down Powell Street toward the cable-car turntable. But the closer I got to Union Square, the slower I walked. The excitement I’d felt earlier was gone, and I was growing more nervous with every step.

Shoko sat on the steps of Union Square, surrounded by palm trees. She still wore her school uniform and had my leather jacket folded beside her.

I waited on the corner and let the crowds sweep around me. I felt something nearby, nagging at me. Maybe it was coming from her, but I didn’t think so.

Shoko waved, and I crossed the street to meet her. We didn’t say much because the Powell-Hyde cable car was rumbling up the hill toward us, its bell ringing out. Shoko laughed as we hopped on and squeezed onto a bench near the driver. Everyone had cameras and San Francisco T-shirts still creased from the store. We climbed the hill, passed the cable-car barn and bumped toward Hyde Street. The cable car was noisy—I’d forgotten that part—and made a terrible grinding noise as it reached the next intersection. Shoko craned her neck over the brass railing.

I tried to laugh along with her, but I was distracted. I glanced around the car, trying to figure out why, knowing I needed to listen to the stream.

When the cable car began its descent down Hyde Street, a few more passengers got on. They looked like locals. The feeling was stronger now, darker. I looked at Shoko, her eyes wide with excitement. Her energy felt warm and positive—it definitely wasn’t her.

I leaned out and looked back to the street we’d turned off. There was a blue car sitting in the intersection even though there was no traffic coming. When we reached the end of the block, it finally turned the corner toward us. When I looked a few minutes later, the car was still behind us.

Someone was following the cable car.

When we crested Lombard Street, the view of the bay spread out before us. I pointed out Alcatraz and the commuter ferries and then glanced back around the cable car. Everyone was looking at the view except one guy, back near the brakeman. He was about thirty, but he was dressed like a college student. Our eyes met and he turned his head away.

“You are distracted,” Shoko said. “You are bored? To me, this is spectacular.”

“No, it’s not that. There’s something …” I didn’t know what else to say.

“I understand,” she said with a nod. “You are troubled. I will leave you alone to listen.” And she did, which surprised me.

When I stole another look at the man, it looked like he was talking to himself. I saw the wire that led up his sleeve from his hand. He was using a portable radio harness, the same type Grandpa’s bodyguards used.

I touched Shoko’s arm. She turned to me, her eyes alert. I leaned close to her. “I think I’m being followed.”

Her face showed no apprehension. “Like those men last night?”

“No, something different.”

She frowned. “Are you afraid?”

I shook my head. I had a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Barrymore had added me to his babysitting list and given me my own discreet protection team. I didn’t recognize the guy, but he looked like the bodyguard type. I felt cocky for having spotted him, but I couldn’t shake that dark feeling. I didn’t like how he’d looked at me.

“Forget it,” I said as I looked out at the view. “So, you like riding the cable cars?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “I have always wanted to ride them, … but I was too afraid to try.”

“
You
were afraid?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “This is my first time. And I like them, even better than trains.”

I liked them, too. They were exciting, but I could see how they might be intimidating. They were kind of like a roller coaster.

The big guy driving, the gripman, rang a tune on the bell as we rolled down the hill. He made it sound Caribbean-style, as if he were playing a steel drum. As we crested the next hill, he threw all his weight against the brake lever, pulling it all the way back.

When we got to the turntable at Aquatic Park, I jumped down onto the cobblestone street while it was still moving. I’d always thought that was the coolest thing, but Okaasan never let me do it. Shoko reached her hand out to me and I took it. She let out a happy yelp as she hit the ground.

The red brick buildings of Ghirardelli Square weren’t far away. Shoko was already half-dragging me in that direction while informing me that Ghirardelli’s was the best place to drink hot chocolate. I smiled—I’d been there a bunch of times with Okaasan. We’d come here on the cable cars, too, and she was like a kid when it came to sweets. The last time we’d gone was a few years ago.

I slowed. Had that been our last trip on the cable cars together? You never know when it’s the last time—the last time your father carries you to bed, the last time your mother holds your hand crossing the street. It’s only when you look back that you realize it’s gone forever.

I decided I’d ask Okaasan to ride the cable cars with me again.

I grabbed Shoko’s hand, an unconscious reaction, and pulled her in the opposite direction of Ghirardelli Square. She started to protest.

“Hang on,” I whispered as I nodded toward the cable car.

That man was by the back door, blocking the other passengers from getting off. He looked right at us while he spoke into his jacket, not even trying to be careful. I didn’t need to see any more.

“Let’s go.” I pulled Shoko’s hand and we turned and ran the other way. The guy had to be one of Grandpa’s new men, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to follow me around on a date.

Shoko laughed as we ran through alleys and into stores only to exit out the back and run along another street, putting more distance between him and us. Shoko was in damn good shape, not out of breath at all. She got into the game and pulled me into a hotel through an open kitchen door. We ran past the astonished cooks and walked out through the restaurant, both of us laughing.

About twenty minutes later, we arrived at Ghirardelli Square. I stopped under the archway over the red brick courtyard to catch my breath while Shoko leaned against the iron gates and stared into the chocolate shop. I watched the sailboats on the bay sway on the blue water. I let my mind drift into a peaceful stillness, if only for a moment. There’s no silence in a city, but the noise did fade, as if I’d put in earplugs.

At first my mind was empty, but eventually thoughts began to creep in. Was the man from the cable car still following me? And did I have to wait for that voice in the stream, or could I make it speak?

I closed my eyes and tried to reach into myself. At first I felt nothing, but then, little by little, a warm feeling began to well up inside me, rising from my stomach into my chest. It was peaceful at first, like I’d felt with Shoko last night, but it kept growing, swelling like a balloon. It got bigger and bigger and I started to panic. I tried to push it back down but it was too strong. I felt as if I were in the gym with Mack, trying to bench-press two hundred pounds. I clenched my teeth and then yelled.

The energy exploded out of me. The cobblestones leaped away from me like ripples away from a huge stone dropped in water. As I fell to the ground, I heard a gasp and the clatter of the gate hitting the brick wall. I spun to see Shoko fall back against the gate, her hands clutching her head. I lunged forward to catch her.

Her eyes snapped open. “I warned you not to do that again!” she yelled through clenched teeth.

“I … what did I do?” I backed away in case she was planning to attack me again.

She let out a deep sigh and her hands dropped to her sides. Then she looked toward the sky. “Why me?” When no one answered, not that I could hear anyway, she looked back at me, her anger gone. “Well, after all that I hope you found him. With that much energy, you could knock the gods off their clouds.”

“Find who?”

“That man from the cable car. Was that not what you were doing?”

To my shock, I realized I had an answer. “I … he’s still out there, but he’s nowhere near us.”

“Good.” She pointed a finger at my chest. “I swear to the gods, I will rip your heart out if you do that to me again.” Then she crinkled her nose and smiled up at me. “Now it is time for hot chocolate!” She turned and walked across the courtyard towards Ghirardelli’s.

I watched her march into the chocolate shop. After a long moment, I got my feet to cooperate and I arrived in time to hear her order a hot chocolate and a hot fudge sundae—in perfect unaccented English. She turned to me with raised eyebrows. “Are you getting anything?” she asked, again in English. “My treat.”

The chocolate factory had long since moved to another location, and the huge brick building had been converted into a trendy shopping complex. All that remained of Ghirardelli’s was a busy chocolate shop with memorabilia covering the walls.