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Authors: C.R. Fladmark

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BOOK: The Gatekeeper's Son
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I remembered Grandpa telling me about his
investment
group—the Committee—and that it had enough power to affect the economy.

“Bartholomew is one of those we call the
Evil Ones
,” Shoko said as she stirred her egg into the rice in her bowl. “And they are not human.”

My head jerked up. “Not
human
?”

“They are beasts—huge creatures with long claws and sharp teeth covered in deadly venom.” She seemed to shudder. “And when they die, they bleed black blood—that, too, is poisonous.”

“But they’re businessmen. You just said Bartholomew—”

“They can assume human shape,” Okaasan said, “though their inner character shines through.”

An image of that old man in the bathroom flashed through my head. I licked my lips, which were suddenly dry. “I think I saw one. That night I had dinner with Lin. He was an old man, a really old man. He had a snake’s tongue—”

“Oh, gods!” Okaasan’s hand covered her mouth.

“Do you think that was Bartholomew?”

“I don’t know,” Okaasan said. “Did he say anything?”

“He said he could tell I was special and that we’d meet again. He noticed my gold watch.” My brain was working overtime now, and I didn’t like where it was going. “Grandpa and Bartholomew were business partners … You don’t think Grandpa is—”

“No!” Okaasan held up her hand. “Edward was under Bartholomew’s influence, that’s all. The Elders took notice. That’s when my family received our assignment.”

Something still didn’t add up. “Grandpa said Bartholomew was trying to get his gold.” I turned to Shoko. “Would the gold give Bartholomew access to your side?”

Shoko gave me an “Are you stupid?” look.

“Then why does Bartholomew want it so badly?” Come to think of it, why was Grandpa so determined to hang on to it?

Shoko shrugged. “That the Elders even bothered with Edward amazes me—the Gatekeepers’ only duty is to keep the evil out of the world of the gods.”

I leaned forward onto the table. “So what are we going to do about Bartholomew?”

“Nothing,” Shoko said, “unless he threatens our world.”

I looked at Okaasan.

“The Evil Ones aren’t my concern,” she said.

“Bartholomew is threatening Grandpa. Doesn’t that
concern
you?”

She looked away. “Evil exists everywhere in this world.”

“So, we just let this … this evil guy … snake … whatever … attack Grandpa without doing anything?”

Shoko cleared her throat. “It is my understanding that Edward entered into the relationship with Bartholomew quite willingly. There is a price to be paid for everything.”

I looked at Okaasan. “But … you let me hang out with Grandpa for years. Didn’t you think that this might become a problem?”

“Your grandfather has made a huge effort to change. He rejected Bartholomew and has tried hard to be there for you. I didn’t consider him a problem.”

Okaasan booked a flight back to San Francisco for early the next morning and reserved a room in a business hotel in Matsue for our last night in Japan. I’d spent almost the entire train ride back to Matsue Onsen Station deep in thought. I thought of Grandpa holding that MP5. What was so special about the gold? Maybe Shoko was right—maybe it was cursed.

Shoko sat beside me with her eyes closed and her legs stretched out, ankles crossed. I noticed a few men looking at her and was surprised at the jealousy that welled up inside me. I nudged her with my elbow and her eyes snapped open.

“If there was an Evil One on the train right now, could you tell?”

She shrugged. “Maybe if it showed us its tongue.”

“Do you think
I
could tell?” I said as I studied the passengers in the half-full car.

She frowned. “Perhaps. Why?”

“Because one of them is after my family. Maybe if you did something to stop the evil on
this
side, you wouldn’t need to guard your gates all the time.”

She paused and then shook her head. “The gods do not want this world turned into a battleground.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

Okaasan and I spent the afternoon walking and ended up by the north moat of Matsue Castle, in the old Samurai district. The estates stood in a row behind stone and wooden walls, facing the moat.

We walked in silence on the narrow street beside the moat under blooming cherry trees. This was the first time we’d been alone since she admitted the truth of her “assignment.” Neither of us were ready to talk. Everything had changed, but into what I hadn’t figured out.

Okaasan pointed to a narrow lane that twisted up the hill into a bamboo forest. A high concrete wall topped with security cameras ran parallel to the lane.

“What’s that?” I said.

“That’s where my family lives.”

Three black BMW sedans turned up the lane and then into an opening in the wall. A high gate slid closed behind them.

“The respectable Sota merchant family, I presume.”

She nodded and started walking again.

“Not very inconspicuous.”

She pulled a twig bursting with pink blossoms off a low branch. “Everyone here knows not to ask questions.”

I stopped. “Aren’t you going to drop in and say hi?”

“I’ve already done that,” she said, still walking.

“Well, I’d like to meet them.”

She turned to look at me. “If you’re lucky, you never will.”

We got back to our hotel after dinner and were greeted by an anxious-looking desk clerk. He handed Okaasan a slip of paper. Her face grew pale as she read it, and then she turned to me with tears in her eyes.

“Your grandpa’s had a massive heart attack. He’s … he’s not expected to live.”

Chapter 27

CHAPTER

27

The house was quiet and messy—dishes were piled in the sink and dust bunnies drifted along the floor. Tama wouldn’t stop rubbing against our legs—I thought she’d missed us until I saw her empty food dish.

I threw my stuff onto my bed and headed back to the kitchen. Okaasan was already attacking the dishes.

“I’m going to the hospital.”

“Go and call William from a pay phone,” she said. “Ask him to send a car.”

“Why a pay phone? And why William?”

“Because I’m sure they have our phones tapped, and because he has a car.” She turned to look at me. “Make sure no one sees you. I don’t want you getting into trouble again.”

I got back about fifteen minutes later after bushwhacking through the neighbor’s yard and climbing over the back fence. On the way back, I’d scouted out the neighborhood. A blue car was parked around the corner from our house, with one guy reclining inside. Two blocks away, south on Arbutus Street, two guys sat in a van, looking bored as hell. The blue car looked a lot like the car that had tailed me the day Shoko and I rode the cable cars. I figured they were either guarding us or spying on us. I couldn’t tell which—their energy wasn’t positive or negative, just the empty buzz of zoned-out minds.

“Twenty minutes,” I called as I walked in the house.

Okaasan came out of her room. I stopped dead.

She’d changed into fresh clothes: high heels, a miniskirt, and a thin sweater that revealed more of her body than I cared to see. It sure wasn’t hospital-visiting attire.

“How did William sound?” Okaasan said, smoothing her skirt.

“He sounded surprised we were already back,” I called as I walked toward my bedroom. I figured I needed to change, too.

I emerged a few minutes later in clean jeans and a blue golf shirt. There was no sign of Okaasan.

A whisper of material sliding against something interrupted my thoughts. I spun but immediately tried to turn back around. Okaasan had her skirt pulled up and was strapping a knife to her inner thigh, hilt down.

She gave me a devilish smile. “
Kunoichi
sometimes use this. It’s a good hiding place, don’t you think?”

I wasn’t sure about that. “What’s a
kunoichi
?”

“Female ninja,” she said. “I’ll assume you know that men have nine openings in their body. Women have ten. One extra—
ichi
.”

“OK,” I said, doing a quick mental tally. “So what’s with … the, um … outfit?”

“Kunoichi fight as well as the men, but they are most successful using other methods. Who suspects a pretty girl?”

As she adjusted her skirt, it struck me that all our lessons, even those Okaasan taught me when I was a kid, were about delivering death quickly. Shoko and Okaasan were trained killers, as were their families. Did that make me a trained killer, too? I stared at the ground.

“Is our life ever going back to normal?”

She was looking in the mirror, adjusting her sweater.

“You’re the only one whose life has changed.” She sounded less like my mother and more like Shoko.

We were two strangers in a familiar place. I’d lost so much. No—I wasn’t losing things. I was throwing them away, and that wasn’t what I wanted.

“I’m sorry about … what I said about you and Dad.”

She turned to look at me.

“I’m not going to say anything,” I said.

She stood in front of me, arms crossed. “I won’t let you pretend that everything’s all peachy between us.” Suddenly, there was anger in her eyes.

This wasn’t going the way I’d hoped. “You’ve got to understand. The world I knew for sixteen years, the mother I thought I knew, disappeared”—I snapped my fingers—“pretty much overnight. The more answers I got, the more lost I felt. Please … I’m doing my best here.”

BOOK: The Gatekeeper's Son
3.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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