Patrick woke up tired from the late-night tour of Disneyland they squeezed in after checking in. The hotel was a short walk through a parking lot to the main gate. After arriving, they didn’t even unpack, just washed their hands, bought discount tickets at reception, and went.
In the Disney Resort area, he and his daughters were invisible in the parade of jumpy kids, excited teenagers, and worn-thin parents. Those guys in black would stand out, though, even at night.
Inside the gates, it had been crowded and a bit cold in the early evening. He watched closely but saw no sign of the driver or the shovel-faced guy who followed them on the train.
He bought the girls sweatshirts and caps, and let them load up on Mickey Mouse sandwiches, Monsters melon bread, and churros slathered in tooth-melting layers of sugar. He stood right outside the door of the toilets when the girls went in.
Back in the hotel, he’d told them to brush their teeth twice, but they just giggled and dropped into a deep sleep before he could even open a whiskey from the mini-bar. He received a message from the Asian guy, Tim’s replacement, telling him he’d lost them in Tokyo Station. He didn’t write back. Patrick hoped he’d lost the guy in black too.
He pulled back the curtains a crack for sunlight without waking the girls. It was like they were born again every morning, re-emerging from that other world of sleep to reincarnate into themselves each day.
He’d almost missed Jenna’s birth, the greatest day of his life. The idiots at his job at Pacific Investments had failed to call him out of a meeting to tell him that his wife had gone into labor. It was their policy never to interrupt a meeting, and that included a partner giving birth.
When the meeting was over, Patrick checked his messages, saw Miyuki was in labor, and raced out of the office. He made it to the hospital to find her screaming and sweating for the last pushes in the delivery room, her eyes wild. He tried to calm her down, but he had to laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” Miyuki screamed at him as she pulled on the handles of the birthing bed and pushed with all her might.
“I’m so happy.” He kissed Miyuki’s sweat-drenched face, wanting to help but knowing he couldn’t do anything more than hold her hand, cheer her on, and watch Jenna emerge—a screaming blob of beauty dressed in blood and mucus. She was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
In the recovery room, when the nurses brought Jenna in, he realized again how beautiful Miyuki was. That first night he watched them, he felt he was in love twice more than he ever thought he would be. For the first time in his life, he had a home. He was home.
Kiri’s birth was no less amazing, and much smoother. Miyuki had taken time off from the bank and worked from home for a couple of months. The second time, he was prepared to leave work right away and even took parental leave, rare for men in Japan. Kiri added another dimension, a fullness, and the family was complete, perfect.
Watching the girls through sleepless nights, messy meals, tantrums, and sicknesses had never bothered him. He finished their half-gnawed snacks, wiped their excretions, and held them like…well…they became the metaphor to compare everything else to. Now, they were the metaphor to protect.
He googled around and found a private jet company with an open slot and even a limousine shuttle to take them directly from the hotel to Haneda. They’d hide out at Disneyland through the day, and could leave anytime after three the next day. It was exorbitant, but it would avoid the departure lounge and surveillance cameras. He filled in the form and risked using his credit card to hold the reservation. They said they’d accept cash in payment before the flight.
Once they got to Honolulu, he and Miyuki would have their big argument and it would be over. Things would never be the same, but they would find a way through it. They had to.
Kiri sat up in bed. “Are we having pancakes this morning?”
“It’s almost lunchtime, honey.”
Kiri had on her new pink sweatshirt with princess characters all over it. Patrick knew better than to try to get her out of it, so she slept in it.
Jenna got up on her elbows, awake. “I’ll share my pancakes.”
“I don’t want to share. I want my own.” Kiri squirmed inside her oversized sweatshirt. Patrick caught a tone in her voice that he hoped was not crabbiness.
He changed into his newly bought clothes, and the girls got up and pulled on tights and sweatpants. He hadn’t brought thick enough coats for them, so he got them to layer up. He thought of sending a message to Miyuki to bring warmer clothes, but it was too late and they’d be in Hawaii soon. She must be on her way.
When they were ready, except for needing their hair brushed, they put their shoes on by the door. Patrick checked the hallway in both directions. Nothing. He stepped out and the girls followed, still sleepy, with the excitement stirring inside them. The elevator arrived empty.
“When’s Mom coming?” Jenna twisted away from him and checked herself in the elevator mirror.
“She’ll be here soon.”
The girls cheered and threw their little hands in the air.
The lobby was full of parents and children streaming over the tiled mosaic of Cinderella’s Castle that covered the floor. Soft blue and pink tiles accented with sparkly gold formed the castle. Magical flying characters that Patrick recognized, but couldn’t name, swooped and smiled below their feet.
Patrick dodged strollers loaded with babies and supplies for the day. Parents adjusted kids’ outfits. Teenagers struggled to escape their parents and huddled with friends sharing plans on their cellphones.
Patrick took the girls’ hands and headed to the restaurant, but halfway there, he stopped. There was already a line. A pleasant-looking young woman was taking names on a clipboard. Patrick hated lines, a constant aggravation in Tokyo, and wanted to give up right away.
Miyuki, though, could predict exactly how long a line would take with a single glance. Every Tokyo line looked too long to him, but he’d have missed out on half the films, art exhibits, and shows if she hadn’t cajoled him into waiting.
A busload of Chinese tourists entered, pushing their rolling suitcases, looking at the mosaic tile, and talking loudly. They quickly filled the lobby with noise, vacation clothes, and erratic motion.
And then, there she was.
“Mom!” Jenna and Kiri raced to Miyuki. She stooped down to wrap them in her arms. The girls clung to her, and Miyuki wiped a tear from her eye.
He started toward them, wanting to tell her everything, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to tell her they were being chased by violent, vengeful men. He didn’t want her to know they’d be lucky not to be found by the men who probably killed Leung.
Halfway there, just as he stepped over the magic moat filled with toothy alligators and frogs who were really princes, he felt a ripping, burning pain in his back and fell forward like an axed tree trunk, slamming against the tiled floor. Above the ringing in his ears, he heard the girls shout, “Poppa!”
He tried to say something, but couldn’t catch his breath. He twisted on the smooth tile and tried to kick at whoever and whatever it was. His eyes wouldn’t focus and his back felt like he’d been slugged with a baseball bat, an electrified one.
He began to breathe again and looked up at a man in a black suit staring down at him. Patrick grabbed his foot and tried to tip him over, but the man hopped backwards and got away. Patrick dragged himself to his feet. The man backed off, stretching to see something by the front door.
Along with another busload of Chinese, in walked the man in the shiny dark orange tie from the pool. Beside him walked another man, taller, wearing a purple tie over a black outfit. They stood by the door searching the lobby.
The Chinese tourists swept in, some of them beelining for the free coffee table and others pulling discount coupons from a huge rack by the door. The second busload of Chinese had a tour guide giving explanations through a handsfree portable loudspeaker turned too loud. They looked for their luggage and pooled in groups taking photos of the ceiling and the mosaic.
Patrick looked through the flow of visitors. The man in black who had just tased him seemed to be the same one outside the hotel, the one who’d followed him on the train. How could he have gotten to this hotel? He was sure he’d lost him. Did he come with Miyuki?
Standing beside Miyuki and the girls was a short round man in a leather jacket with multiple zippers. Even stranger, Miyuki seemed to know him. The man started pushing Miyuki, Kiri, and Jenna out of the lobby and Miyuki followed reluctantly. Who was he?
Patrick looked for exits out of the lobby. There was another exit to the side of the lobby over which hung a big mouse glove sign: “Happiness This Way!” A line of life-size Disney character statues gestured in the same direction.
Another busload of what looked like retired Filipinos came in with their grandchildren. The swirl of colored shirts lit up the already brightly colored lobby. They jumped around taking photos at this most important stop on their once-in-a-lifetime Japan tour.
Patrick sprinted to Miyuki, scooped Kiri into his arms, and took Jenna’s hand. “We need to get out of here. Where’s the—”
“I checked the bag already. And I put the other here.” She patted her bra where the USB was nestled. Miyuki patted Ota on the shoulder. “This is Ota. He saved me.”
“Saved you?” Patrick kept his eyes on Miyuki’s and held the girls tight. “We need to get out of here now.”
“Why did you fall over?” Miyuki’s face tightened beneath her mask.
“We need to go.”
Miyuki gave a single nod of OK.
Patrick leaned down and in a daddy voice said, “OK, girls, we need to hurry or we’ll miss our entry time.”
“What about breakfast?” Kiri said, but Jenna, sensing something wrong, shushed her.
Miyuki put her hand on Ota. “Ota’s coming too.”
Without looking at the men in black, Patrick turned Miyuki and the girls around, heading them toward the only idea of safety he could come up with—the huge happy crowd inside Disneyland.