That whole first day after Stevie's return, I helped Jiji in the garden and in the kitchen. Then I tried to read. Stevie sat for quite a while, watching his cartoons while I set the table for dinner and did some more housecleaning chores. I had just finished sweeping in the hall and was putting away the broom and dustpan when someone rang the doorbell. Jiji called out that he'd get it and went out onto the enclosed porch and then the outer door.
Whoever it was didn't get invited in but I heard muffled voices. The visitor was a man, speaking in an agitated tone, punctuated by Jiji's responses. They spoke in Japanese. Probably Frank Asano, one of Jiji's friends and the person who always stopped by to deliver breaking news in our community.
I edged closer, too close not to be considered eavesdropping, but I felt drawn to the conversation like a moth to a flame. My Japanese wasn't quite fluent yet, though close, due to years of lessons with Jiji since Stevie and I were little, so within seconds, I had garnered the topic, not without my heart pounding again:
Another Asian boy had vanished.
~
As I'd guessed, the person at the door was Asano-san a member of Jiji's personal business and social network of he'd built up over the decades and which often proved a very reliable source of breaking news in the Asian communities around Berkeley, often before it even reached the local papers. From what I overheard, an eight-year old boy named Johnny Chang disappeared from the playground in a public park at the end of his street after a small fire someone had described as "sounding like fireworks" had erupted in one of the park's trash cans. In the ensuing chaos, Johnny vanished, right from under the nose of his babysitter.
I heard Jiji thank Asano-san for the swift update and close the door. I dipped out of sight as Jiji entered the house from the porch, so he wouldn't know I'd been eavesdropping. I waited until he returned to the kitchen to go in. However, as soon as he saw me, he looked guilty. "I didn't mean for you to hear my conversation with Frank," he said.
I sighed. There was no point trying to hide it. He had always read my face with eerie accuracy, like he'd just done. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have listened."
"It's okay. It's just that with what you and Stevie have just been through, I didn't want you to be distressed again."
I came up to the counter and stood with him. "Maybe he'll be returned later today too, like Stevie was."
Jiji nodded and turned back to the pot of noodles he'd been stirring and turned off the stove. "Perhaps."
I spent the time until dinner, painstakingly writing down every detail of Stevie's disappearance, as if I were making a statement for the police, and then put that next to a written record that I would keep of Johnny's disappearance as the details became available. It could not be a coincidence that both boys had disappeared within twenty-four hours of each other and I prayed that Johnny, too, would reappear the way Stevie had, unharmed, if groggy from drugs.
After dinner, Stevie asked me to watch Spiderman with him. I couldn't refuse even though next to him on the sofa, I found my foot tapping, restless because I wanted to be making my notes and thinking.
Finally, I was able to urge him off to bed so I could pace. The space between my desk and the end of our two platform beds became the outlet to the panicked, fervent energy swirling in me. After what I'd experienced while Stevie was gone, I had only sympathy for Johnny Chang's parents. The child's own terror was unimaginable to me and I felt only a driving need to find him should he not be returned tonight the way Stevie had been the night before.
Jiji checked in on us, encouraging me to try and get some sleep. He promised to get me up if he heard any new development concerning the little boy. I told him I would try to sleep soon, though I didn't see how I'd be able to. I sat down again at my desk, reading and re-reading what I'd written, checking it for anything I may have missed. I even added my two exchanges with Officer Petersen, down to every detail, including his expression as I'd explained why I was so sure someone had grabbed Stevie. The same blank, suspicious look people wore when they couldn't fathom my explanations about Stevie's dependence on me.
I must have fallen asleep at some point after sitting back down at my desk, because a pressure on my shoulder caused my eyes to open. My head was resting on my arm and my shoulders practically groaned from having slept with both arms folded on the hard desk. When I sat up, Jiji was standing beside me with a cup of tea, which he set down on the desk.
I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. It was nearly eleven. "I slept so late!" I lamented. "I needed to get up hours ago to keep an eye on the news."
"I'm sorry, Michael. You needed your rest." Jiji patted my shoulder. "Have this tea and then come in. I made you an omelet. There is something to tell you, but take care of yourself first." Before I could say anything, he turned and left.
Stevie was sitting on his bed. "Hi, sleepyhead," he said.
I looked at him. Since when did he know that expression, much less use it? "Hi. Did you have breakfast already?"
He smiled. "Of course I did. Hours ago! Jiji made me an omelet too."
I scratched my head and stood up, stretching. "Since when do you like omelets instead of Cap'n Crunch?"
"Since today. I'm going to be more like you and I know you don't like that cereal anymore. I see your face when you eat it. Like it's worms." He giggled.
"True enough. I don't like it anymore," I said. I went up to him and peered down into his eyes. They did look clearer even though his skin was paler than usual. "We'll go sit in the yard today for a while, Stevie," I told him. "Some fresh air would be good."
"Whatever you say, Mikey."
I sipped the tea Jiji had left me and ran a brush through my hair so I'd look like I'd made a bit of effort. My hair was shorter around the sides and the top was thick and naturally curved itself into a quiff so it always looked a bit unruly anyway. That was as good as it would get. "Stevie, did you pick your color for today? What color is today?"
He looked at me. "I don't need that anymore, Mikey. I've outgrown it. I want to be smart and brave now, like you."
The words were like a psychic slap. There was no physical sensation yet I couldn't respond. I blinked several times and took a deep breath before I could say anything. "Seriously?"
He nodded, once, a resolute downward tilt and then folded his arms across his chest. "Seriously."
My eyes suddenly stung and felt hot. I fought the sensation back. I didn't want him to see the effect his declaration was having on me. "Okay. Let's go then."
Stevie followed me into the kitchen and sat across from me. I wasn't really hungry but Jiji seemed to be using the giving of updates in exchange for me taking care of myself. Jiji had already put the plate on the table for me and I had to admit, the scent did tempt me. He sat down with me, poured us each some tea and waited until I'd finished a few bites of food first before letting me ask him anything.
"So Johnny Chang is still missing?"
Jiji nodded, sadly. "Yes. But this morning, a set of child's clothing was found on one of the benches in the park that the child disappeared from."
"Oh my God."
"There's more. The clothes were laundered and neatly folded with Johnny Chang's name on a piece of paper safety-pinned to the shirt. Everything was there, down to the socks and underwear, shoes, and some items that had been in Johnny's pockets, a handful of pennies and a seashell."
I stared at him. "What the hell?"
Jiji nodded. "That was my first thought as well when Ito-kun told me this."
Jiji was referring to Detective Kenneth Ito, his former student. Jiji mentioned him over the years, updating me on Ito's life. Ito-kun got married. Ito's wife gave birth to twin daughters. Ito was the youngest officer to make detective at the Berkeley Police Department. Always with great pride in his voice.
"This is a nightmare," I said.
He nodded. "Yes. A child missing is a nightmare beyond all others."
"Mikey, I'm going to go read my comics, okay?"
I looked at Stevie. "Of course, I'll see you soon."
He scooted his chair back and hurried out.
My stomach clenched. "Oh god, I probably should have asked him to go out before we started talking about it. I'm so careless and stupid."
"It's all right, Michael," Jiji said. "He'll be fine." He cleared his throat and took another sip of his tea. "Don't forget to eat more."
I obliged him by taking a few more bites while I reflected on this development. ‟Why return the clothes?" I asked him.
He shook his head, mystified.
"Was there any clue in the note that would lead them to the kidnappers?"
"Not as yet that I've heard."
"And nothing else from the crime scene itself?"
"It's still under examination."
"Okay." That emotionally itchy feeling that was fast becoming a steady companion was gnawing at me now. Like a whisper in the base of my skull, telling me the criminals were teasing me, their trail daring me to follow them. To find them. And I was powerless not to grasp at their bait. "Why neatly fold the clothes and return them? And how did no one see that happen?"
Jiji sighed. "It's strange," he said softly, the pad of his index finger tracing the rim of his tea cup. "I remember back in Tule Lake. Your baba would wash our clothes when there was enough water and then hang them to a dry on a line I'd strung across our little cubby hole of a room. Something about the clothes hanging to dry, the order of washing them and then taking them down to fold brought a certain comfort. In the madness and cruelty there was something to touch on, a taste of normalcy."
I was quiet, listening. Jiji did not like speaking about that period and aside from the day he'd explained the details behind Stevie's outburst years ago, he preferred not to. Nor did he speak but only occasionally of our grandmother, pained as he still felt for causing her to suffer.
"A woman," I said after he fell quiet. "A woman washed and folded the clothes. And she might just blend in with her surroundings in a way no one noticed her. So she could very well have just left the pile of clothes on the bench and walked away in the early hours, before there were people in the park."
"Yes, perhaps," Jiji answered.
"But why leave the paper with his name on it? It's as if they want to be caught."
Jiji nodded. "Or want to taunt the police, as if they're too smart to get caught. That is often a characteristic of certain crimes."
I sat up straighter and faced him. "Or, they're having a crisis of conscience and that's their way of getting caught somehow."
Jiji looked at me, his tea cup halfway to his lips. "That could be."
"Jiji, do you think we could go to the park and look at the crime scene?"
"Really?" He set his cup down. "Are you sure you want to do that?"
"Yes." The emotional itch was too strong now and I knew I'd go crazy trying to stay in the house, useless. I also knew Jiji would feel better if I wasn't alone. And maybe I would too. "Of course, I know we can't get up really close, but I…"
"It's all right. Finish breakfast and then we can go."
"Okay." I thought then of telling Jiji about Stevie's having abandoned his candy ritual, but found I couldn't say the words, so I worked on finishing my food so we could get onto the park.