Patrick had snuck his daughters past the security cameras with his cap down and mask tight. When they got out of the building, the car was waiting right where the support group said it would be. They’d sent the key to him in Wyoming. They were very prepared, or maybe very experienced. Aside from the babysitter, everything was going as planned.
Jenna and Kiri soon fell asleep in the back seat and flopped over their bags. When he was sure they were asleep, he reached back and lifted their cellphones from their hands. Jenna’s phone was more adult, but Kiri’s was basically an emergency call with a GPS tracker. She could talk on it, but only to three numbers—Patrick, Miyuki, and the school.
After zigzagging several streets, he stopped on a bridge over a canal, stepped out, and dropped the phones into the dark water below.
Tim, the head of the so-called reunion group for foreigners in custody battles had been right about all the small details so far. Cellphone apps would ruin the whole plan. Tim had assured him it had happened more than once.
Patrick made quick turns, slowed down, sped up, and kept one eye on the rear view mirror. The ramp for the Shuto Expressway south to Haneda Airport was halfway there. He could park in the lot where the group told him and waltz through priority boarding in no time.
As Patrick pulled onto the expressway, the cellphone Tim sent him rang. Patrick slipped the Bluetooth headset into his ear.
“Change of plans. Don’t go to the airport,” the voice said.
“Is this Tim? Where am I supposed to go?”
“No names, as we discussed. How far are you from Ueno?”
“It’s in the other direction.”
“Turn around and go to Ueno Station. Take the first Shinkansen going north.”
“Next one’s probably early morning. What am I supposed to do until then, keep driving around?”
“See if you can catch the last train.”
“Where are you? Haneda?”
“One of our guys is there. He’s been stopped.”
“Stopped?”
“They questioned him, but let him go. Airport security was somehow alerted. I don’t know how they got on it so quickly. Other times there’s been a half day leeway, or longer, to get out.”
“How could they already know I’ve taken the girls?”
“Listen, we’ve done this many times. Plan B works just as well.”
Patrick slowed into the left-hand lane and looked for an exit. “Won’t they be watching all the Shinkansen stations?”
“I’ll send someone to check and call you back in ten minutes. There’s underground parking near there.”
Patrick dealt with Tim by encrypted email to set all this up. The group provided support for divorce cases, ones where a spouse refused joint custody or visitation rights. In Japan, custody almost always went to the mother, especially if she was Japanese. Patrick felt his case was a bit different, but then everyone probably felt that way.
In addition to “reunions,” the group spoke to politicians, reached out to the media, and filed lawsuits for parental rights. If Miyuki had not filed for divorce while he was in Wyoming, he would never have even thought of googling that kind of help.
He found a place to turn around for the expressway north. So much for the business class plane tickets and ocean-view suite at the hotel in Honolulu. Patrick hadn’t even brought a suitcase. He’d left everything checked in at the hotel in Honolulu since he planned to be in and out of Tokyo in a day.
His phone rang and he tapped on the headset.
It was Tim. “The next train won’t be until morning. You’d better dump the car.”
“What am I supposed to do, walk? I’ve got the girls and their luggage and…”
“OK, keep the car for now, but if you leave it somewhere, be sure to remember. We have extra sets of keys, so you can toss the ones you have.”
This was getting screwed up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to keep taking orders from this guy, as efficient and experienced as he seemed to be.
They could stay in a capsule hotel, or an internet cafe, but such places always asked for ID. Maybe heading out of the city and finding a highway rest stop to sleep in the car would be best. The girls were already asleep and jet lag meant he wouldn’t sleep anywhere.
“You still there?” Tim’s voice sounded distant.
“I’ll go to a friend’s place. Drop the car off near there.”
“How close a friend is he?”
“He wouldn’t turn me in, if that’s what you mean.”
“I meant is he someone the cops would figure out to check on?”
“Not unless my wife tells them.”
“Would she do that?”
“Not sure.”
“You could contact her to let her know the girls are all right. That might buy you time.”
“It might get me arrested.” Patrick hung up. He got off the expressway and turned back south. There was only one place to go—Kyle’s.
The first years in Tokyo, he and Kyle had worked together at Pacific Investments, a very old-school firm with decent pay and little overtime. Two Americans out on the town made for many wild nights. Tokyo life became a never-ending tour of new restaurants, cool bars, music clubs, art openings, and film festivals. They double-dated, single-dated, triple-dated, and stayed out until dawn. What better place in the world to spend their bachelor twenties than Tokyo, they agreed.
Patrick thought he’d be a condom-carrying bachelor forever—until he fell in love with Miyuki. That stopped the boys’ night outings, slow braking at first, and then altogether. Miyuki checked all the boxes, and he didn’t even know he had boxes. She was a rising star at the bank where she worked, smarter than any woman he’d ever dated, bilingual, and gorgeous. Within a few months, they were living together.
Kyle was best man at their wedding, though he passed out after starting on Bellinis at breakfast after no sleep. The nonstop bottles of champagne and prosecco the night before didn’t help. When it came time to say, “I do,” Kyle was still out. Another friend pulled the ring from Kyle’s pocket and stood in for him. When Kyle roused himself during the after-party, they restaged the ring bestowal a second time. “Married twice,” people shouted, and the party raged on to morning.
After that, Kyle kept up the bachelor lifestyle while Patrick settled down. Kyle had always been able to sleep odd hours and still function. Hungover or not, he went jogging every morning along the shored-up canals and straightened-out rivers around his apartment. The upper-floor apartment on reclaimed land offered a spectacular view, which he claimed was the best aphrodisiac.
It was a short drive to Kyle’s place. Patrick found a lot nearby, parked, paid, and sent Tim directions to the car. Patrick hoped he would be home, or that he still kept a spare key under a potted plant down the hallway.
He woke the girls. They flopped around, but didn’t complain when he told them they were going to Uncle Kyle’s because they missed their flight.
He pulled their bags over his shoulders and started toward the apartment. As they passed over a canal, he stopped to toss in the car keys and the drawstring bag with the tools.
Jenna watched him, but she was too tired to ask what he was doing. “We haven’t seen Uncle Kyle for a long time.”
“He wanted to see you before you left,” Patrick lied. Kyle didn’t even know they were coming, but he’d be cool with it, the only person Patrick knew who would be.
Struggling with one of the bags, Kiri said, “What about Hello and Goodbye?”
“Your cats? Mom will take care of them.”
“Is she coming?”
“Later. She has to take care of Grandma.” Patrick promised himself to never lie to his daughters, unlike his father, but a few small ones wouldn’t hurt. “Actually, I bought us a house. In Wyoming. With a huge field. It’s a surprise for Mom, so we’re going there first, and then she’ll come. So, can you keep a secret?” He stopped and squatted down, looking into their faces. “Can you?”
Jenna nodded, and yawned.
Kiri looked unsure, but when Jenna nodded, she did, too. “Are we really going to ride horses?”
“I promise. But you have to be good and not worry about anything, OK? Promise?”
Jenna and Kiri nodded in unison.
Patrick stood up and walked to the apartment door, waiting until someone came out. Before the doors shut, he pushed the girls forward into the large lobby.
“Do you remember which floor?” Patrick quizzed them.
“Wait,” Jenna said. “Twenty maybe?”
“You’re a smart girl.”
“I got an A in math.”
“This is about your good memory, not math. But that’s a great grade.”
They got in the elevator and rode up in silence, their images reflecting back from the polished brass of the walls, yawning and blinking. He told them what troopers they were and how proud he was of them.
They walked quietly past a bank of windows along the hallway. Tokyo would soon be transitioning to daytime mode so they had to get out of sight. He rang the doorbell.
No answer.
He was about to go for the extra key under the flower pot when the door opened. Kyle stood there in a black kimono with a shock of red hair hanging to his shoulders, more frat boy stoner than investment advisor. “Booster? Dude, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Horndog. I should have. Kind of a last-minute thing.” Patrick leaned forward for a bro-hug.
Seeing the girls, Kyle did a jaw drop and eyebrow wiggle. “And you brought my two favorite girls.” Kyle leaned down and Jenna and Kiri did little dances of happiness before Kyle wrapped them in a hug.
“What’s ‘Horndog’?” Kiri frowned at Kyle.
Kyle laughed. “I’ll explain later.” A woman’s voice called from inside the apartment. Kyle smiled.
“We need a place to crash.” Patrick tried to stifle the urgency in his voice. He didn’t want the girls to hear it, or Kyle, either.
Kyle nodded, serious, and waved them in.
“Uncle Kyle, we missed you,” Jenna said.
“I missed you girls too. You are top of my list for Thanksgiving. And Christmas, too.”
“Did you buy a turkey?” Kiri giggled.
“I’m feeding one on the roof.” Kyle put his finger to his lips to keep it a secret and took their bags.
“Can we see it?” Kiri asked.
“After you get some sleep,” Kyle said.
The woman’s voice called out from the bedroom again. “Kai-ru?”
“Do you have company?” Jenna looked around Kyle.
“I do and she’s very nice.” Kyle wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
“Kai-ru? Is she calling you ‘frog?’” Jenna giggled.
Kyle laughed. “Yes, I am a big frog, but a beautiful princess kissed me.”
“Uncle Kaeru, Uncle Frog!” Kiri said, and the girls giggled, and it was all right.
Over the top of the girls’ heads, Patrick gave Kyle a serious look that said thanks, I owe you one.
Kyle raised one eyebrow. It held all the questions he would ask in the morning.