Naomi Hirahara - Gasa-Gasa Girl

Jeannie tried again. “I mean, they have the gun-which, by the way, they did trace to the half-rate production house that Mari had worked for-and they have the bullet-”

“Bullet,” Mas couldn’t help but murmur.

“Yes, the bullet. Aren’t you the one who found it, Mr. Arai?”

Lowering his head, Lloyd squeezed his wedding ring tattoo. “I had to turn it in, Mr. Arai,” he finally said. “They would have found out sooner or later.”

Inu. Dog. Cheat. How could he sell out Mari like that? Mas felt his whole world turn. Had he misjudged Lloyd that badly? He had given that bullet to Lloyd because the son-in-law was the main man in his daughter’s life. It was his responsibility to keep his family safe.

He wasn’t supposed to give it to the authorities. Perhaps Lloyd was tired of Mari, had a woman on the side. Did he want Takeo to himself? If that was his plan, it wouldn’t happen without a fight from Mas.

“Look, guys, we have to focus here.” Jeannie spread her fingers on the surface of the table. “Apparently an anonymous source has been feeding Ghigo information. First someone called about Lloyd having an argument with Mr. Ouchi, and then made mention that Mari had filed a complaint with her independent filmmakers’ union that Kazzy had been sexually harassing her.”

“Who told Ghigo that?”

“That’s the thing,” Jeannie explained to Lloyd, “it’s a-non-y-mous. Ghigo doesn’t even know. They used a voice-altering device, so we don’t even know if it’s a man or a woman.”

Mas was surprised that Jeannie had so much inside information. So was the son-in-law. “Ghigo told you that himself?”

Two pink marks like those atop baked rice cakes appeared underneath Jeannie’s eyes. “Yes,” she said, and then attempted to change the subject. “Is there anyone who would be out to get you or Mari?”

“Who are we? Nobodies. We have nothing,” said Lloyd.

Mas grunted in support.

Lloyd raised his head. “Why would anyone think that we would be any kind of threat?”

Mas pushed his tongue against a space in between the roof of his mouth and his dentures. “Phillip, the son, he no good.” Didn’t want the garden in the first place, wasn’t that what he had said?

“Yup, Ghigo’s looking into that.” Again, the girl lawyer seemed one step ahead. “These charges against Mari won’t stand up. No judge wants to waste the taxpayers’ money going through with this. This won’t go past a preliminary hearing.” Jeannie shot words like machine-gun fire throughout the room. “They just need someone to hang the crime on, since it’s gotten so much media attention.”

“Media? You meansu Post?”

“The Post started it, but now it’s beginning to get some national news coverage. You have to admit that it has a sexy angle: business tycoon killed in a Japanese garden in New York.”

Mas saw nothing sexy in that, especially since he was the one who had seen the dead body.

“They are playing it as a hate crime, and that’s the last thing the NYPD or the tourist industry wants. They need to arrest someone, quick and fast. With Mari’s connection to the gun, she’s a logical suspect.”

Mas was getting angrier by the minute. So Mari was a convenient scapegoat, is that what the attorney was saying?

Jeannie picked up a pen and began scribbling on papers in a manila folder. “Oh, yeah, there’s also the matter of the bail.”

“Will they give her bail?” Lloyd asked.

“Well, I figure that with her clean record, good reputation, and, of course, being the mother of a sick baby, the judge will be lenient.”

“How much?”

“I think that we have to be prepared for fifty thousand dollars.”

Mas gulped.

“You’d need something worth at least fifty thousand for collateral. And then ten percent of that in cash. Could you come up with that?” Jeannie pushed back her headband, and Mas noticed that her hairline was shaped like a vampire’s. An American ghoul who sucked blood.

“Look around, Jeannie. Does it look like we have that kind of money?”

“How about relatives? Friends?”

Mas shifted in his seat. “Izu put my house up.” To hear himself say it even shocked Mas, not to mention probably Lloyd.

“No, no, Mr. Arai. We can’t have you do that. There’s got to be a better way.”

“Anybody else?” asked Jeannie.

“My parents,” said Lloyd. “I can ask my parents.”

Why not? thought Mas. Go to the husband’s side.

“Good. We’ll get Mari out of there right after the arraignment.”

After Jeannie left, Mas felt his belly get cold and hard. The last thing he wanted was to be alone with Lloyd, the traitor.

“Mr. Arai, this will just blow over, I know it,” said Lloyd, oblivious to Mas’s aloofness.

That night Takeo cried continuously. In Lloyd’s gangly arms, Takeo looked as compact as a football. Lying on the couch, father rested son on his shoulder, then his chest, and finally his belly. Mas couldn’t take the noise anymore and reached for the baby.

Takeo’s face was as red as the ripest tomato. He had little bumps on his body-Mari said that he had problems with dry, itchy skin. He slept with mittens on his hands so that he didn’t scratch himself.

“ Nen nen kororiyo okororiyo, ” Mas sang, then paused. He couldn’t remember the rest of the old lullaby. So he kept repeating it. Nen nen. Sleep. Kororiyo okororiyo. Rock, rock. Yet Takeo didn’t sleep. He kept crying, hungry for only one person, his mother.

The next day, Lloyd left with a driver in a Lincoln Town Car for the arraignment. No babies allowed in the courthouse, so Mas was the one who would have to stay behind with Takeo. It was just as well, because Mas couldn’t stand to see his handcuffed daughter in an oversized jumpsuit, standing in front of a judge.

Mas had slept maybe three hours, if you combined the little snatches of sleep here and there. His sweater, in fact, was damp with tears, sweat, and hanakuso from Takeo’s eyes, overheated body, and nose. The grandson was finally sleeping in his crib, although every half an hour his legs and arms would jerk as if he was having a bad dream. That he inherited from the Arai side, thought Mas, wondering what kind of nightmares a baby could have.

At about eleven-thirty, the phone rang, and Mas felt his heart lurch. What had happened with Mari? As he expected, Lloyd was on the other line. “There’s a snag here on the bail situation, Mr. Arai,” he said.

“Whatcha talkin’ about?” Mas felt his head and fingers go piri-piri with a bad tingling sensation.

“Bail’s set higher than Jeannie expected. A hundred thousand dollars. My parents don’t want to provide any money for bail. We’re flat broke. In fact, we’re in the hole. We’re almost maxed out on our credit cards.”

“Youzu take my house,” Mas said. He had bought it back in the sixties for three grand, but with the rising L.A. housing prices, the house had now far exceeded the three-hundred-thousand-dollar mark in value.

“You wouldn’t have to give it to us. Just put it up for collateral. But we would need probably ten thousand dollars in cash. We’d pay you back, every penny.”

Mas squeezed the phone receiver so hard that sweat was dripping down his arms. He listened carefully as Lloyd told him to take Takeo up to Mrs. Knudsen, the neighbor, then go to an office in Brooklyn. “Worm’s Bailbonds,” Lloyd said. “He’ll be expecting you.”

Worm Lewis was like a human snowman-everything about him was perfectly round-his belly, head, and green eyes. Even the silver buttons on his vest were round balls. But instead of a coal smile and pipe, he wore a frown, which held an unlit cigar.