The little girl looked over. The large Godzilla-like gaijin too much for her to ignore. Adam gave her his best playful dinosaur look. She went into hysterics. Adam looking away just as quickly before the mother could see the source of her little daughter’s glee. One of life’s few real pleasures for Adam these days. It helped pass the time as well. Very important in a life that had become nothing more than a series of brief respites between drunks.

  15

  The train stopped at Shinagawa Station, on time as usual. Adam Welsh finished off the large bottle of Asahi and searched for a garbage receptacle. There was one at the exit ramp to the taxis outside. He rushed towards the exit and immediately crashed into the Japanese man scurrying across the platform. A box of Coca Colas scattered as the man fell to the ground. He gave Adam a quick look. What was it? Fear, hatred? Maybe both. Picked up the Cokes almost as if they were pieces of China and continued towards the subway.

  “Ignorant Jap bastard.” A little of his father in Adam. Resentment and anger. Blaming the Japanese people for his lot in life. In the taxi now.

  “Sanno Hotel.”

  Thank God, the driver spoke English. Adam, three years in the country and still only a smattering of Japanese. Mostly bawdy phrases learned on barstools from inebriated young Japanese women.

  “What color is your panty?” a favorite. The driver sped off to the Sanno and escape for Adam Welsh. The pain would soon go away.

  Naoyuki Enomoto brushed off his pants and tried to slow his breathing as he picked up the Coke cans and entered the subway. Ebisu station would soon be here. As the train hurtled towards Ebisu, Naoyuki thought of the American. He would be dead in the near future when the Event was complete. Tonight though just a test. A taste of things to come. The crowd at Ebisu would be heavy.

  Rose Carney put on her make-up. Adam would be back tonight. A few drinks. Talk. Adam, Rose, Art and even Dan. God she was so happy, even Dan would be bearable tonight. She would tell Adam that she loved him and later in the room, make him forget Keiko. At least for the night. Rose Carney rushed out the door towards the train station. Ebisu Station. Leaving the apartment she would never see again. She ran towards the station. Had to see Adam. Everything would be okay. The Japanese man passing her. The Coke can slipped into her purse. So light Rose not noticing. No beverage in this can. A small hole. Not visible to the naked eye. Something had started to seep out, unnoticed. Rose entered the elevator. No stairs. Amazing how a minor decision in one’s day to day life can alter everything. No one in the elevator. Doors closed. She reached for the 2nd floor button but…something …a smell. Her chest very tight now. Alarmed. Eyes teary. Burning. Rose fell to the floor. Terrified. My God, what is happening? Opened her mouth to scream. Nothing. Like a nightmare when she was a little girl. But then she would wake up as her scream finally came out. Her father holding her in his arms. It’s going to be okay, Rose, hon. Just a little nightmare. How she loved her father. Not here now though. No scream coming out. Elevator door shut. No air! God she needed air. The can of Coke rolling on the floor. Rose threw up. Her entire intestine attempted to leave her body. Her bowels released. Not this way. My Jesus, not this way. Half-conscious now. I love you, Adam. I always will love you. Art’s smiling, fatherly look. They were waiting for her just about a mile away. She was lying in a heap on a elevator floor in Ebisu. Lying in her own puke and shit. Her breathing stopped. Adams face. Blackness. The abyss.

  16

  Keiko Watanabe knew that something would be happening that evening. She had heard little at the earlier meeting, but it was still enough to indicate that Aum would take a major action this evening. A statement. The One believed that Aum would be taken seriously only by striking a blow directly to the solar plexus of the American debauchers. The heart thrust would follow soon enough.

  Adam had been trying to contact her now for over a month. Since he was a member of the military arm of the evil American empire, tabs had been kept on him. His every move scrutinized. Keiko’s old girlfriends had been seen with him in Roppongi, and in his drunken rants, he had on more than one occasion screamed her name. Keiko had of course left her old apartment long ago. The one in Meguro where Adam and she had stayed. Had she actually made love to him there? So distant. So far away. In any case, Keiko had ceased to think of herself as a woman. Even a human being. She was now a soldier to be utilized by the forces of Aum. As such she would serve her purpose and then be discarded. All for the cause. This had been understood from the beginning. Deep inside Keiko’s inner being where a bit of humanity still flickered weakly, she wished, yearned in fact for this end to come. Her soul had died when the fetus that would have been her daughter was ripped from her body. The occasional violation by Asahara now just an inconvenience to her. No feeling anymore anyway. The presence of the Irish scum almost bringing her to some type of feeling. The heroin took care of that though. All just a fog now. At one time she would have killed O’Mara with her own hands. Now though she was satisfied to merely exist devoid of any feeling. “Comfortably numb” as one of Adam’s favorite bands had sung, what seemed like eons ago.

  Shoko had come into her life shortly after the abortion. Adam had run as was his bent. A good man but the alcohol and his father had taken his spirit. While Adam was at sea, Keiko had been recruited by Aum. After the breakdown she had been visited by an old girlfriend who had come under the spell of the True Creation. One look at the shell of this woman who was incapable of love for anyone or anything assured the Cult that Keiko could be an invaluable soldier.

  They had taken her out of the hospital under cover of darkness, and since that night, for all intent and purpose, she was more machine than human.

  The police sirens in the distance brought Keiko back. The deed had been done. She knew. Somewhere in Tokyo this night, the first blow had been struck. A sense of relief filled little, broken Keiko as she now knew that her pain would be at an end soon. The hint of a tear came and went. There was work to be done.

  17

  Adam Welsh was met by scores of armed military police as he entered the Sanno Hotel. The hotel was in fact a U.S. Department of Defense installation despite its five-star appearance and was now at a high state of military readiness. The bar packed with gaijins all mesmerized by the figures on the television screen –“Ebisu Station”- in bold letters at the bottom of the picture. Bernard Shaw saying something about deadly gas and an American woman. No identity released as yet. Pending notification of relatives.

  Art visibly shaken. No greeting for Adam. Only, “God, have you seen Rose!? Jesus, I should have brought her here myself!”

  “What about Rose?” Adam not putting things together yet.

  “She’s not here, god damnit! She was supposed to be on her way from Ebisu, for god’s sake, man! Jesus, have a drink. Useless.”

  Dan pulling Adam to the side now. Not his usual self. Not the normal Dan. Benny either for that matter. Everyone different. Bad vibes in the air. Like the morning in San Diego when the news of his father came. The smell of death permeating everything.

  Dan saying, “Rose was supposed to be here two hours ago. It looks like there’s been a gas attack of some kind at Ebisu Station. Gaijin female dead according to the news. Late thirties.”

  Adam dazed, now staring at the screen with the others. Deer lost in the eerie glow of the cathode rays emitting news of death.

  “Just got the goddamn answering machine.”

  Art not holding up well. The calls to Rose’s apartment had been answered by a disembodied voice. Beautiful, lost Rose. Would that be the last he would ever hear from her?

  “I’m not at home. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back. Have a great day!”

  Will you Rose? Can you call me ever again?

  “Lt. Chambers. Phone call for you, sir. You can take it in the lobby.”

  Art gone in an instant. Fleeing the bar.

  “She’s probably just stuck at the station. Jesus, between the Jap Swat teams and the American Military, it’s a miracle you got here, swabbie.”

  Benny, hopeful. Heart of gold. Trying to reassure Adam and the rest. For all his attributes, a lousy liar.

  “Double Jack. One for Benny. Dan, Gin?”

  “You twisted my arm. Double. Here’s to the tilt in your kilt.”

  Dan, merely mouthing his trademark salutation now. Real trouble brewing. A bad feeling all around. Death. The rest grateful though for the attempt at, what was it, normalcy? Status quo. Anything to beat back the growing tide of impending doom that felt like it could wash over all of them at any second.

  18

  Keiko Watanabe left her small shanty of a domicile and hailed a taxi for the trip to Aum Headquarters number 2 as preordained. The taxi dropped the small dark figure, and for some reason the driver, a student of American literature at the University, was reminded of “Laura” the tragic figure of The Glass Menagerie.

  Keiko had not spoken throughout the entire trip except of course to instruct him where to take her. Arriving in this seedy area of Shinjuku, the driver thought it unusual for her to get out here. Somehow out of place but then after a quick glance maybe not an unusual destination, this place of seedy bars and discarded souls. She paid her fare and walked into the strip club.

  Days later, Kenji Abe, taxi driver and student, would find a picture of a happy couple — he American, she Japanese — while cleaning out the back of his cab. The newspaper would portray this picture prominently for many days and weeks afterward. The glowing faces of Keiko Watanabe and Adam Welsh in a time when everything seemed possible.

  19

  Adam entered the lobby in time to see his best friend in the world dying on the floor. Art Chambers had taken the call from the base. His contact at Operations was well-informed. The dead American woman was Rose Carney.

  A cry had emitted from somewhere deep in the bowels of Art Chambers psyche, and the massive stroke had followed. Brain waves stopping but not before a Polaroid like image of Rose smiling, probably manufactured by one last synapse connection, had flashed before Art.

  Keiko watching the small television above the Pussy Cat Bar. Music throbbing from below. Keiko oblivious. The CNN reporter talking of the dead American woman. Showing the face of Rose Carney. Keiko bursting into tears. Her entire body shaking. Convulsing now. Falling off the chair and rocking in the fetal position. An inhuman shriek emitting from her small body. Coming from the depths of hell itself.

  “Oh my God, what have I done. Not Rose. Please, God, don’t let it be Rose.”

  Tears cascading down her face. A small flood on the floor beneath her. Her kidneys emptying. Pent up rage, anger, sorrow. Everything leaving Keiko Watanabe at once now.

  Why Rose?

  Out of thousands of gaijins, why Rose Carney? Of course only later would Keiko find out that Shoko had picked Rose specifically. Had known that Rose Carney and Keiko Watanabe had been like sisters at one time. What seemed like centuries ago now but alas not long ago. Keiko the pretty Japanese girl who had been schooled in all things American thanks to numerous visits to LA and New York as a young girl and various trysts with American men. Never falling in love. Just the sex. The feeling of power. Until Adam of course. Adam had changed everything.

  The Sanno Hotel banquet room appeared in Keiko’s mind’s eye as she slowly lost consciousness. There was Rose and Adam and Art and John Bannister, the sports medicine guy. The man who had advised sumo wrestlers like Akebono, Konishiki, as well as numerous American baseball players looking for one last hurrah in the Japanese baseball leagues. John a little on the wacko side as Adam would say. Good guy but one of those conspiracy theory nuts whose list of UFO sightings and government condoned massacres of Venusians increased in direct proportion to the number of champagne glasses piled in front of him.

  The Sunday brunch at The Sanno. God, we were happy then. Keiko and Adam in love more than any human beings deserved to be. Adam and Art and John and sometimes Dan and Benny would join them, although the group soon lost patience with Dan’s arrogant presence. Eventually he would leave in a huff, being sure to include everyone in his blistering diatribe of inventory taking and personal insults.

  Keiko and Adam fresh from a morning of blissful lovemaking. She could die at these moments and make a heaven out of these memories alone. Was I really that alive then? Yes. More than alive. Everything was Adam. My universe.

  So long ago now as Keiko lie crumpled on the floor of this tawdry strip club.

  Shoko entered the room.

  No words. None necessary. He knew. Walking over to the broken angel, he administered the needle in a quick sterile fashion. Keiko not having a chance to reject it. Not that she had any intention of doing so. The heroin doing its job now. The vacant look returning. Any life, emotion, feeling, a thing of the past. The old Keiko gone again.

  Naoyuki had done well. The American cunt had been banished. More to be done now. He would be here soon. Asahara would talk with him. Explain why he would have to die. To die for the cause. What an honor. Shoko pensive now thinking of the next move. Naoyuki a good soldier but must be removed now. Too much chance of being captured and then all would be for naught. All the plans drawn up over the last few years. Actually longer than that. Shoko had started planning probably from the first time that his father had molested him. A way of cleansing. A purging of all that had poisoned his young body and soul. Now the final purge was at hand.

  20

  Adam Welsh in the waiting room at Tokyo Hiroo Hospital. Thoughts of Christmas past. A meeting with the man who would become like a surrogate father to him.

  “You’re looking pretty good for an old fart. Damn good. A drink for this guy, please, Yoko.”

  “Lieutenant to you.”

  The brash façade cut through in an instant by the kind look in Adam’s eyes. There was love there. The potential for a father-son kind that was in a way indestructible. Something Adam had never had with his own father. Davey Welsh never there for him. From the first night that Adam had met Art Chambers, the bond had begun to form. The old salt officer and the troubled enlisted man.

  It’s a Wonderful Life playing to an all but empty bar except for the strong “Burl Ives” shape of Art Chambers. Christmas Eve and he was alone. Rose probably entwined with another young marine for the night. She would call him the next day in tears of course, but now he would hurt in solitude. Dying inside as Jimmy Stewart kissed Donna Reed in a world which had ended a long time ago. A world that as Art thought about it over the martini, probably never existed.

  “God, that Jimmy Stewart was a national treasure, you know. Donna Reed too. A real woman. Jesus, these American chicks these days. Don’t need us anymore. Women’s Lib screwed up everything.”

  Adam Welsh speaking to anyone who would listen. Art chuckling out loud.

  “Huh! Well now you know why I’ve been over here for almost thirty-five years!”

  “Damn! God Bless you, sir.”

  “This is one of my favorite movies of all time. Capra was a genius, and of course Stewart and Donna Reed are classic.”

  Adam moving over to the seat next to Art now. Two lost souls on Christmas Eve in the middle of Tokyo. Talking about this and that. Adam remorseful, about to go into another crying jag. Talking about his old man. Art having none of it.

  “Look, you’re a young guy. Your old man is dead. He did the best he could.”

  “The bastard,” voice breaking now. The tears starting as they always did.

  “I never had a chance, Art. The booze and the drama. Shit, now I’m in it. Hard whiskey. Just like him. Said I would never be like him, but here I am. No turning back. Ah, fuck it. Give me another, Yoko.”

  ”No more, Yoko. Beer only for this swabby. Pulling rank now. Sorry. You’ll thank me.”

  They talked. Surrogate father and son. Adam thought he saw a tear in Art’s eye at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life. Friends forever. The bond created.

  21

  Adam waited outside the emergency room. Not much hope. A massive stroke. The Japanese doctor not wanting to relay the worst, but Adam knew. Could see it in his eyes. In one horrible night, what was left of Adam’s world was being torn asunder. Rose dead. Art probably gone. Keiko nowhere to be found. Dan Bronsan sitting alone at the Sanno. Benny had gone home. The cancer and trauma of the nights events sending him to an early departure. Staring at the screen now. CNN reporting that no suspects had been found as yet. The American and Japanese authorities working closely. Lifting the drink to his lips slowly and then gulping it down. If Art was here he would have told him to get a funnel. No need for a glass. He missed him already. He seemed already dead when they wheeled him out. The loss of Rose too much for the old warrior. In a better place now. “God be with you my friend,” and then an Irish toast in Gaelic.

  Dan’s thoughts turning to his daughter, Kelley. She would be coming over from the States next week. He had a bad feeling. Should he ask her to postpone the trip? He knew the answer already. His daughter like her mother even more so since she had been diagnosed with MS. A bad hand for his little princess. She’d overcome it though. Twenty-three now and as normal as any girl her age. Same emotions, likes, dislikes. Probably even more well-adjusted in fact.

  . . . . .

  At the Hospital, only a few blocks from the Sanno Hotel, the emergency room lights glaring. Adam trying to find out about Art. He hadn’t been able to get any information since he arrived. His Japanese not that good. No chance to learn it. All the girls wanting to learn English. Adam accommodating. Wishing he had been more interested in their minds now than the patch between the legs. Trembling mound of Venus, an old porno he had read as a kid. Probably written by some out of work English teacher. He had heard they use to do that in the seventies. All these soft-core pornos being written by high school English teachers. Made you wonder. Wouldn’t want to be a parent. Dan in fact was the one who had told him about it. His daughter Kelley’s teacher had been doing it. They found out at the school one day when one of the parents heard him bragging about it at the bar, “My throbbing member between her trembling mound of Venus…” Actually maybe he had stolen it from Henry Miller. Anyway, the poor English teacher was history once Dan found out about it.