Cajun Justice(41)

“What dreams are you talking about?”

“I wanted to be an airline pilot. That’s why I was in university in Florida, at Embry-Riddle in Daytona Beach.”

“Yeah, I know it. I was stationed at JAX for years with the United States Navy. We’d go down to Daytona for various events.”

“Yes—so many things to do in Daytona. I had a lot of American friends. I was becoming too American, my father thought. I was at a party where there were drugs. The police came. I didn’t take any of the drugs, of course, but I was in the house where they were. The police took us all to jail. My father is an inspector with the Tokyo National Police. He made me return to Japan immediately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Cain sympathized with Tanaka.

“No, I’m the sorry one. I talked way too much tonight. The train is no longer running.”

“It’s only just after one o’clock.”

“Yes, but in Japan, the trains stop at one. It’s very inconvenient for us Japanese. But we must not say anything.”

“You must not say anything?”

“We have a saying here: The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Trust me; I get hammered down a lot.”

“So you can take a beating? That’s good. Means you’re resilient.”

Tanaka seemed to appreciate the compliment.

“Well, surely we’re not the first people in Japan to close down a bar. So, what’s the solution?”

“Japanese always have a solution. Tonight, we sleep in a hotel.”

“That’s fine. I’ve spent so many years in hotels that they’re like second homes to me.”

“I assure you, Cain. You have never stayed at a hotel like this.”





Chapter 35



They walked the tiny streets for just one block before they arrived at a hotel.

“What is this place?” Cain asked. “It looks like those pods from the movie The Matrix.”

“This is a capsule hotel. It’s cheap.”

“Yeah.” Cain scoffed as he looked around. “Herpes is cheap, too. Doesn’t mean I want any.”

Tanaka didn’t seem to get Cain’s joke. “This is very popular in Japan. It’s our best option tonight. I’m so sorry. I should have looked at the clock so we didn’t miss the train.”

“Well,” Cain said, “it’s just for one night. Plus, one of the reasons I came to Japan was to try different things. I’m dead tired from the jet lag. I’ll be asleep in no time.”

Tanaka spoke with the clerk for a few moments, then used an automated vending machine to book rooms.

“This receipt has your password on it. You will need it to access your capsule. Also, we must take off our shoes and wear these slippers.”

Cain tried on the largest pair they had, and even though they were backless, his heels still stuck out by about three inches.

Cain’s “room” reminded him of something from a sci-fi movie: each was part of a row of stacked pods just big enough for a body. Inside was a thin mattress, a folded sheet, and a pillow.

Tanaka effortlessly climbed the ladder and slipped into the capsule. Cain, on the other hand, hit his head as he tried to enter the capsule.

“This was not made for Americans!” Cain exclaimed.

“See you in the morning,” Tanaka said.

“It is the morning,” Cain replied.

“Yes—you’re right. I meant sleep well.”

“There’ll be no sleeping well in this thing, Tanaka. The only way I fit in this thing is to curl up in a ball. And the mattress is only about an inch thick to pad my two-hundred-pound body. After tonight, no more of these capsule hotels.”

“It’s a deal. I promise. I probably won’t get very much sleep, either. It’s exciting that you’re finally here. I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone later today.”

Cain rested his head on his backpack and closed his eyes. After tossing and turning for a bit, he eventually drifted off into a deep sleep.





Chapter 36



Cain opened his eyes but saw nothing. He was in complete darkness. He couldn’t even see his hands in front of his face. Panic started to set in. He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the outline of his jaw, mouth, nose, and eyes. Where am I? The strong scent of pine wafted into his nostrils. He felt his heart against his chest, beating faster and stronger. Where the hell is this? He strained to remember.

He stretched out his arms in each direction, mapping out his surroundings. My Zippo lighter, he thought. Yes! He fished for it in his backpack. He retrieved it, flipped open the brass lid, and lit the wick. The warm glow of the dancing flame produced enough light for Cain to see where he was. He was trapped inside a wooden box—a coffin.

His casket crackled and warped as the red-hot fire raged, consuming the wood like a colony of starving termites. Cain’s body burned and the hair on his arms and face singed. “I’m burning alive!” he shouted in terror. He heard the faint sound of monks chanting in a foreign language. “Get me outta here!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “I’m in here!” He kicked and punched as hard as he could.

The loud bang and the hallway light that poured into his small cell jolted him awake. He had busted open the capsule’s door.