Sujata Massey - Shimura Trouble

THE KAPOLEI POLICE station didn’t look like a place for bad guys. It was far too pretty, built of new, golden brick, in the same neo-colonial style as the rest of the planned community. Inside there was a soaring atrium with tall windows. It looked like a place to hold a choral recital, not arrest and detain people.

Behind the desk was an attractive local man in his twenties, slimmer than Kainoa, and more Southeast Asian in appearance. He wore a green and yellow print cotton aloha shirt and khaki shorts. I would never have guessed he was a cop if I hadn’t seen the tag around his neck identifying him as James Than, Community Liaison Officer.

“You guys lost, yah? Just hang a right out on Farrington Highway, and that’ll take you back to H-1, and make sure you go east. You don’t want to visit the western beaches, trust me.” Officer Than smiled briefly, then went back to the comic he was reading.

He’d mistaken us for tourists, but I was too stressed out to be offended. I said, “Actually, I’m here to pick up a family member, my nephew Braden Shimura.” I’d decided, a split-second before coming in, that aunt sounded a lot more mature than cousin.

“Oh, Braden Shimura.” He paused, looking me over with new interest. “That’s right, his old man said another relative would be picking him up. Too busy to come in and face the sad truth!”

“What is the truth? Why was he arrested?” I asked.

“Before we get into it, I’ll need to see your government-issued photo ID.”

Feeling flustered, I slapped my driver’s license down on the counter. He read it, then inclined his head toward Michael. “And who’s he?”

“I have a government ID as well.” Michael placed his CIA identification card on the desk.

Than’s eyes widened, and he lowered his voice. “The kid wanted for terrorism, too?”

“No,” Michael answered shortly. “I’m a friend of the Shimura family’s who’ll be driving Rei and Braden home. But I’d like to get back to Braden’s situation in-what’s the charge?”

After a moment of indecision, Officer Than slid a small packet of papers across the desk toward us. In my state, it was unintelligible. I handed it to Michael, then looked back at Than and asked for a translation.

“Right now, your nephew’s being charged with one count of arson. And there might be some other charges, too-a body was found, and right now, the coroner’s trying to determine if it was an accident or foul play.”

“But he was with his family during the fire, including me…” But as I said it, I was thinking. The fire had started the day before, and Braden was out of school and unsupervised.

“This morning, he was caught on Pierce lands out toward Nanakuli with a wheelbarrow full of rocks. He dropped the barrow and ran when we told him to stop. Still had his lighter in his pocket.”

I was about to say that lots of innocent people ran on the Pierce lands-myself included-but thought better of it. I asked instead, ‘What can you tell me about the body?”

“Like the way you phrase that. I can’t tell you anything. Watch the news. You’ll hear, sooner or later.”

“OK, that I understand. But if you didn’t catch him setting the fire, how can you charge him with arson?” Michael asked.

“He may have set the fire just to get the rocks-that was the arson investigator’s original thought,” Than said. “But you never know who’s gonna be caught in the midst of things when a fire gets raging.”

“With such serious charges, I’m surprised you’re letting him out,” I said.

“He’s a juvenile. Kids stay with their parents until the trial-although with his prior arrests, I gotta wonder why’s he’s getting another chance.”

“Prior arrests?” I asked.

“You don’t know your nephew got caught before on petty theft, vandalism, and loitering?” Than shook his head. “So, where is he going stay-with you, or his parents? Don’t want him skipping to California.”

“He’ll be going to his home on Laaloa Street. I came to get him because, as you know, his mother and father are working right now,” I answered.

“Well, let me warn you, don’t drop the boy at his house without his parents there. He might bolt.” He pointed a finger at me ‘You are legally responsible for his whereabouts. You hang on to him until you hand him over to the parents, yah?”

ONLY AFTER OFFICER Than had walked behind a door to fetch Braden did I reach for Michael. I kept my face against his polo shirt, because the warmth of his body was the only thing that felt secure and real at the moment.

“Ironic how I checked Edwin and Yoshitsune’s police records, but not the kid’s,” Michael said, wrapping both arms around me. “Sorry about that.”

“I never mentioned him to you. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined my teenaged cousin three times removed would have a rap sheet as long as his hair. This is like a bad dream. Wake me up, please.”

“I think we should take him for a private talk, Rei, before we jump to conclusions. I played good cop last time, when we were talking to Josiah Pierce. Let’s reverse roles this time.”

“Of course.” I was trying to think of something else to add-how sorry I was that Michael’s short time in Honolulu was being smashed to pieces by Shimura family troubles-when my cell phone rang.

“Did you meet Braden yet?” It was Tom.

“Not quite. Michael and I are waiting for him to be brought out to us at the police station. And the situation is quite serious.” I told him about the arson and manslaughter charges, and about Braden’s police record.

“Have they hired a lawyer yet?” Tom asked.

“Nope, but I’d say that’s what he needs. And just watch; Edwin will need us to pay the retainer.”

“Good thing we didn’t hire anyone yet for the land troubles,” Tom said. “And Rei-chan, I must apologize for what I said about Michael yesterday. I’m grateful that he’s helping today. I should be there, I know.”

“Thank you, Tom,” I said. “And if anybody wants to know where we are, tell them we’re hanging on to Braden until at least one of his parents is home.”

An arrest is a sobering event for most people-I know from personal experience-but I was shocked to see Braden moving toward us with a pronounced limp. His body and clothes were dusty with the same black ash that had covered me in the morning, and there was a gash on one side of his face. And, most surprising of all, his expression was anxious.

Had the police roughed him up? I wondered, looking at the seemingly mellow Officer Than. The cop was saying something to us. It sounded like ‘Goodbye, and good luck.”

I murmured back something even I couldn’t understand.

“We should go.” Michael put a hand on my arm, realizing how distraught I’d become. “Thanks a lot.”

“No problem, Mike.” Officer Than gave Michael the shaka sign as we walked out of the station.

I was momentarily blinded by the sun, but when I oriented myself I saw two neatly dressed men in their twenties, one carrying a video camera, the other a wireless microphone. They seemed headed for the station itself, but when they saw our group, the two of them conferred and begin hurrying toward us.

“Hmmm. Wonder why they’re here,” Michael said.

“My guess is to interview the police about something.”

But the cameraman started his camcorder, and the reporter, smiling a big, fake smile, was headed straight for Braden.

“I’m a juvenile. They’re not supposed to know who I am!” Braden said, grabbing my straw handbag and using it to cover his face.