2. Fate Set Afloat
-Present day-
"Wash away the thoughts inside
that keep my mind away from you.
No more love and no more pride
and thoughts are all I have to do..."
Miki Saegusa sat down on her bed with her laptop and focused on the lovely baritone voice, which was like spun silk. The singer sounded nothing like the whiney pop stars populating the charts. No, this man had a clear tone and a pleasant vibrato and he didn't run down the scale between every note. Miki was dismayed that the cover had no photo of the singer. It was just a beach with an embossed letter G in the center. It stood out brilliantly against her purple bedspread. An online friend of hers recommended the album to her. It was certainly an odd find.
A window popped up on the laptop. Miki wiped her curly black bangs back and glanced over at her AIM buddy list. A user named "perfectsomeone35411" had just logged on. She settled on her stomach to type a greeting. The computer made a twinkling sound when she sent the message. Her text was purple like her bedspread. It took a few moments for her friend to respond. Long ago he'd warned her that he had terrible typing skills, so she was patient. Finally, his green text appeared.
MikiMew: HIIIII ps! Meow!
perfectsomeone35411: hey what's up miki?
MikiMew: did some go-sees.
perfectsomeone35411: how did they go?
Miki paused, taking her hands off her keyboard. Tears gathered in her dark eyes. All she'd ever wanted after high school was to go into modeling. Everybody told her she had a pretty face and a nice body. But today...today she felt like every designer she visited conspired to crush her self esteem. Even worse-she went with friends, and they all got endless praise.
MikiMew: crappy. nobody liked my walk. they said i'm too short, my ears are too big, my skin isn't tan enough, my lips aren't pouty enough and according to one guy i need to lose ten pounds. they must want me to turn anorexic!
perfectsomeone35411: i'm sorry
perfectsomeone35411: but u take good pics
MikiMew: big deal...i wanna do runway. but after today i'm beginning to wonder if i should just go into accounting.
perfectsomeone35411: naw, u can do runway
perfectsomeone35411: remember that 1 pic u sent me where ur wearing that red kimono and holding a fan? ur a beauty and anybody who can't c that is blind.
Sweet words, but Miki wasn't convinced. She frowned and sat up.
MikiMew: -sigh- that's from a ton of makeup, good lights and airbrushing to even out my skin.
perfectsomeone35411: ur time is coming.
MikiMew: can we please just talk about something else?
perfectsomeone35411: -hug- k. did u get the cd?
MikiMew: oh! yes i got the g album. it's amazing
perfectsomeone35411: which song r u listening 2 now?
MikiMew: remember when it rained
MikiMew: so pretty.
perfectsomeone35411: every1 likes that one.
MikiMew: it's so sad! but still pretty. the singer must be hot with a voice like that. makes me wish i had a pic to drool over
perfectsomeone35411: lol u would
MikiMew: ~_^ just like you drool over britney spears from america.
perfectsomeone35411: -shudders-
perfectsomeone35411: i h8 her.
MikiMew: LOL ok fine paris hilton!
perfectsomeone35411: :X barffffffff. i liked ur pic better.
MikiMew: roflmao aww.
perfectsomeone35411: what does the song make u think about?
MikiMew: um...
Miki leaned back for a moment to listen to chorus. There was such passion in that rich voice. At the same time it seemed to speak of loss and pain.
"Ooh...remember when it rained.
Felt the ground and looked up high
and called your name!
Ooh...remember when it rained.
In the darkness I remain..."
Shrugging, she put her hands back on the keyboard and resumed typing.
MikiMew: it's just very sad. like somebody died or left.
perfectsomeone35411: "tears of hope run down my skin. tears 4 u that will not dry. they magnify the 1 within & let the outside slowly die."
MikiMew: that just played. maybe he's waiting for someone?
perfectsomeone35411: or hoping
MikiMew: i wish we could meet.
perfectsomeone35411: i live 2 far away.
MikiMew: your japanese is great
perfectsomeone35411: lol ur english is better
perfectsomeone35411: gtg, munchies...
perfectsomeone35411: c u later
MikiMew: sayonara ps!
Miki logged off just as Remember When It Rained ended. Ten minutes later, she heard her father call, "Miki!"
"Huh?" she took off her headphones and ran to the door, banging her knee on the tansu next to the doorway. "Yeah?"
"I have to go back to the docks. Somebody spotted Godzilla in the water and the crane's still broke from his last visit. I need to help unload the fishing boats." Her father's gray winter coat rustled as he pulled it on. Then came the front door creaking open, letting chilly air into the living room. "Turn on the news and pay close attention to what they say."
"Okay, be careful!" Miki replied.
"Sure. Love you, see you la-" His cell phone rang. He grabbed it. "Hideo Saegusa. Oh? I'm on my way-yes, right now. Have Tanaka bring in the nets..." The door banged shut, cutting off his rough voice. Miki rushed back to her bedroom window and watched him hurry to his beat up lime green pickup truck. He was a lean, graying man who looked older than his real age of forty-nine. Years in the sun made his tan skin look creased and worn like the spine of a frequently-opened paperback book. She saw him stick a callused hand through the side window to wave, so she waved back and hurriedly turned on her TV.
.o
The docks smelled like fish, salt water, wet cement, wet wood and diesel fuel. Noise came from every direction. Fish flopping, people shouting, engines roaring and thudding footsteps mixed with occasional airplane flying overhead.
Hideo ambled out of his truck and up to a large boat named Arashimaru. News reports said Godzilla wasn't headed their way, but the docks were being cleared as a precaution. Forklifts and flatbed trucks moved in each direction to transport cargo to safer places.
"Hideo!" cried a small man wearing a dirty blue stocking cap. "Hideo! I can't get in contact with Wagura!"
"What?" Hideo spun to face Tanaka. "He didn't dock?"
Tanaka shook his head. He took his cap off and scratched his messy hair, smearing an already dirty spot on his forehead. Then he said, "He did complain that his radio was acting funny. Could be it's failed and he didn't hear the reports about Godzilla."
Hideo's dark eyes narrowed. Wagura was one of his best friends. He didn't want to leave him out at sea when Godzilla could surface any moment! "I'll go out and get him."
"Are you insane?" asked Tanaka.
"I'll take a little boat. You just clear this dock and forget about me for awhile! That's an order," said Hideo, already turning to one of the smaller two-seater motorboats. He didn't check the fuel gauge, he just started the engine and sped away towards the choppy open water with white foam trailing in his wake.
.o
"Wagura, this is Hideo, do you copy? Over!"
Static.
Hideo tried another frequency and repeated his message. Still nothing. He cursed that man's faulty radio and gunned the motorboat towards the larger fishing vessel floating up ahead. Wagura, a heavyset fellow in his forties wearing a white baseball cap to keep his bald head warm, was up on deck pulling in his half-full nets.
"Wagura!" Hideo shouted.
Wagura lifted a hand to wave. His expression grew concerned when he saw the franticness of Hideo's actions. "Hey, got a good catch here. What's the problem?"
"Your radio went out again! I've been trying to buzz you for half an hour! Godzilla was spotted and we have to get back."
A curse left Wagura's lips. Pulling in his nets with a jerk, he hurried to start his boat's engine. Right as he did that, it started to rain heavily and the water grew even more violent. Over the engine, Wagura called out, "I can't tow you with all these fish! Are you going to be all right following me back in this weather?"
"I'm fine!" shouted Hideo. The ocean swells made his boat rock. "You just get out of here before that lizard shows up!"
"Okay! But if your ass isn't docking in the next two hours, I'm coming back to get you!" Wagura yelled back, and they both laughed. Hideo gave him a wave and watched his boat turn in a slow arc to head northeast. He blinked when his own boat's engine began to rattle. It sputtered and died completely. Hideo swore under his breath, reaching down to turn the key and rev his engine back up. The little boat always stalled when the water got wild.
Suddenly, the waves lurched, making the tiny boat do a complete barrel roll. Hideo crashed into the cold sea. His cell phone and compass fell out of his pocket and drifted hundreds of feet down, bounced off a rough ridge and finally settled on the ocean floor. Hideo glimpsed a wall of rutted gray flesh moving against the current.
Godzilla is right underneath me! Hideo thought, panicking. He scrambled to the surface and struggled back onto his boat, ignoring the water that had collected during its flip. The radio spewed a cloud of smoke. Hideo tried it anyway, but got nothing, not even static. He reached into his pocket for his phone and realized it fell out. Same with his compass. With no sun or compass to guide him, Hideo was forced to choose a direction and go...and he prayed he'd find land soon.
Three hours went by and Hideo was half-frozen and nearly out of fuel. Then, far in the distance, he spotted a stretch of white sand. He gave a cry of joy and sped towards it at top speed, running his boat aground. Leaping out, he kissed the sand and choked on the grit. It was so nice to see dry land again!
After celebrating his discovery, Hideo stood up to take in his surroundings. He was standing fifty feet away from a large well-kept home surrounded by hibiscus bushes displaying a few pathetic red and white flowers. The house was two stories tall and painted white with a black roof. A gray satellite dish sat on one corner of the roof, nestled up against a tall, golden weather vane, which had a lightning bolt for a pointer. Vines clung to the walls and window frames of the first story. The windows all appeared to be boarded up. There was a black ivy-covered iron fence that separated the property from the beach. Its heavy gate was open. Hideo looked around before cautiously stepping through it. The yard was simple and zen-like with a sand garden in one corner and a sakura tree shaded the fish pond in another corner. A wide cement path lined by tiny bonsai trees led straight up to the front door. The whole place looked like another world entirely.
Warily, Hideo made his way forward, hyper conscious of the squishing noises his shoes made in the silence.
"H-Hello?" whispered Hideo as he walked up the path. He shivered so hard that he could barely ring the doorbell. No answer. He tried it five more times and then started to knock. "Hello? Please, I need help! Is anybody home? Hello!" Then panic took over again...what if he froze to death out here? Miki would be all alone! He gave the door a good pounding and fell back when it creaked open by itself.
Against his best judgment, Hideo took off his shoes and soggy socks and wrung out his clothes the best he could. Then he poked his head inside the warm, dark home and could smell hints of pizza. "Hello?" he tried again. There was no reply. Hideo's eyes adjusted to the darkness to let him see the home's interior.
All of the floors appeared to be black and white marble. It was so shiny that Hideo could see his reflection. Windows stood on each side of the door and, as he'd suspected, they were boarded up. The kitchen was just to the left, almost directly inside the front door. Less than five feet away from the door was a dark western-style kitchen table surrounded by chairs. Yellow notebook papers with greasy fingerprints on the lower corners were strewn across the table like rose petals, half burying a laptop. Some of them contained poetry that had been scribbled over with a red pen.
Hideo's eye wandered onward. Decorative copper pots and pans hung on a rack above the stove. The cabinets had glass, no, crystal doors engraved with beautiful filigree patterns, but their beauty was marred by odd scratches around the handles. One lone plate sat in the gray holder beside the sink. A large Domino's pizza box had been crammed into the otherwise empty trash bin. Nearby was a microwave. A stainless steel refrigerator hummed in the corner. There was an open pantry full of nonperishable foods, spices and rice mixes. Next to the pantry, another doorway leading into what Hideo guessed was the garage. It was dark in there, but he thought he saw a condenser microphone with a black pop filter set up next to expensive-looking recording equipment.
"Is anybody home?" Hideo called, this time speaking louder than before. Silence answered him. He continued onward, the wrinkles on his face deepening in concern.
No door separated the kitchen from the house. The house immediately opened from the kitchen-foyer to the main living room. It was a huge room with a giant plasma TV and a Bose stereo system set up against the far wall. Speakers were mounted throughout the large room. Two CD racks had been set up next to the stereo and contained mostly classical music, but mixed within were classic rock like Whitesnake, Fleetwood Mac and Chicago. Wind caused the white vertical blinds by the TV to stir. They covered a large sliding glass door or window...probably a door leading to the back yard. A black leather recliner, two red bean bag chairs and a long black vinyl sofa had been placed in regular intervals near the television screen. Floor lamps lined the walls while recessed lights in the vaulted ceiling created an eerie white ambiance. On the right was an open fusama that revealed a bathroom. It was set beneath the sharp angle of a staircase leading to the next floor.
Suddenly, a tall grandfather clock chimed the hour, startling Hideo, and his head whipped towards the corner where the clock sat like a silent wooden sentinel. He swallowed and stepped forward on the cold, smooth flooring, his eyes coming to rest on a gold alto saxophone. The sax and its cleaning kit sat forgotten on the couch next to a violin, which rested atop a folded newspaper. The saxophone, like the cupboard, had some scratches around the keys and the reed looked like someone bit down on it a little too hard. Nestled between two couch cushions was a cordless phone. Hideo grabbed for it, then put it down. It would be rude to run up a long distance bill without asking his unwitting host first!
Hideo licked his lips, turning to look again at the staircase. He noticed a doorway beside an antique mahogany bookcase at the foot of the steps. Probably the basement.
"Hello?" he called again. His voice echoed in the acoustically perfect room. It was so quiet that he could hear the grandfather clock ticking away the seconds. He looked around because something seemed...off. It wasn't until his eyes studied the walls that he noticed the lack of mirrors and photographs. Not one picture to offer a hint as to whose house this might be. The only clues were the two musical instruments on the couch.
Hideo finally shrugged and settled down in the big recliner, listening to the ticking of the grandfather clock. The sound slowly lulled him to sleep. He dreamed of hot food and Miki's laughter.