THIS TIME, ANOTHER PLACE by CAM VILLANUEVA

It was the middle of summer and a Wednesday. Osama walked up to the corner, looking at his phone. He rubbed his hand through his military-style crew cut, and stood strong like a wrestler looking down at his defeated opponent. On this sunny afternoon, his black suit looked like it had been rubbed in coal, his tan shoes shined just this morning. Before the traffic light changed to red, Osama had disappeared into a white Mercedes.

#

The tall white man conjured all his energy to stand up. He had mostly been confined to one room more than 20 hours a day for three months. His blonde hair seemed glued to his scalp. He squinted in the bright lights being turned on which meant inspection.

“Hands on your head,” the young guard said. He stepped back in his dark blue uniform to let his colleague, an older guard who moved swiftly to inspect the room, lifting the futon, emptying a water pot, peering down the commode.

“All clear,” the old man said. He stood at attention in the corner waiting for the next order.

“Where am I being moved to?” the foreigner asked. He was beginning to wobble and squinted in the bright light.

“Raymond Fountain,” the young guard said. “Released.”

#

Fountain first came to Japan to be an English teacher. He was just out of college and looking to see the world. After a few months in Japan, he met a woman named Mayumi, fell in love, and after a year they got married. They soon welcomed their only child together, a boy named Len. Finding it difficult to support a family on his meager earnings as a teacher, Fountain was introduced to wedding work on the weekends. All he would need to do was to wear a robe, read a little from a Japanese script, and look like a priest. He would be paid $200 for 20 minutes. Soon enough he quit teaching and just did several weddings every weekend. But the pressure of being a father combined with the guilt of being a fake priest, living in a foreign country, led Fountain to recreational drug use and eventual incarceration.

#

It was just after 8pm. The streets of Nagoya were still wet, warm, shining, and soft to the voices, the sounds, the vibration of the night. Rain drops had made the car sparkle and reflect the city lights, the drops becoming tiny shooting stars as cars drove by. From a distance, the city looked like a glistening black canvas with holes poked in it, and held before an inferno. Outside the ramen shop, a group of men in suits parted like a school of fish as a bearded old man passed slowly through. The man’s clothes had gaping holes and he chewed on something, ruminating on it as he scanned the sidewalk for cigarette butts. One of the group of men threw a half-smoked one on the ground and laughed as the old man searched for it. The school of fish came back together as a smoke cloud rose up into the godawful black air. Inside the shop utensils clanged and the cars moving down the street sounded like passing flames, burning in the night. Some Chinese tourists walk by, the sound of their suitcases on the jagged sidewalk was like machine guns firing. Two men, Osama and Dainin, were sitting in a white Mercedes parked outside the shop watching the scene.

Fountain strolled up the sidewalk with his backpack and earphones. He was wearing his jeans and his red cap was backward on his head. He caught lights of the ramen shop across the street, where he was to meet his ex-wife and son. The lamps of the shop pierced the dark like light sabers. Fountain crossed the street and walked in front of the Mercedes, glancing at the two men looking at him, remembering one of their faces. He turned back to the windows of the shop to locate his boy. An old woman walked out of the shop. Fountain inhaled the smell of oil, pepper, meat boiled and torn from the bone. The old woman holds up two fingers.

“Please wait two minutes,” she said. She was wearing a black scarf around her head and a matching apron. She turned to look back at the shop and Fountain brushed by her to enter anyway.

“Daddy,” the little boy said as he ran up to Fountain.

“Len,” Fountain grabbed the boy. The boy bumped his head into Fountain’s stomach. “You got bigger,” he said.

"Who are those men?" Mayumi asked when Fountain sat down. The boy tried climbing into his lap but was too big to fit under the table.

"Hello dear,” he said sarcastically. Mayumi was pointing out the window and Fountain followed her fingers to the two men. 

“Oh,” Fountain said while scanning the menu. The big guy is my old boss from the weddings. 

"I thought he is in jail?" 

“He should be,” Fountain said. “Maybe that’s why he’s here. To ask about the accommodations.” Fountain looked out the window. The white Mercedes was gone. The old man with bags of cans tied on top of a bicycle reappeared. Fountain sipped his noodles and steam collected on his glasses, rendering him momentarily blind. Len laughed as the man drew circles in the steam. Later, Fountain walked Mayumi and Len back to their apartment and walked toward the subway and back home.

#

The job was to murder a low-level member of the Sumiyoshi-kai yakuza group. The man was beginning to cause trouble according to several businesses that had ties to the Inagawa-kai, Osama’s clan, and Osama was tired of the rival clan infringing on his outer territory in Mikawa, to the south of Nagoya. He had given them three warnings already. Dainin would be the trigger man and Fountain would just drive. That was easy enough. After meeting with Osama, Fountain would be given a gun for return fire and instructions on ditching the getaway car. His connection to the clan, an old friend named Servant, would return the verdict personally. If at any point Fountain made a mistake, Servant would suffer. He messaged Fountain to meet him at a tonkatsu restaurant near Shin-Sakae. Servant was was wearing a light grey suit and looked obviously like a gangster.

"You changed your hair," Fountain said.

"Yesterday. You like it?"

"Yeah, whatever." Fountain looked at the menu on the wall. "What's good here?"

"What do you think? Tonkatsu." Servant flipped the menu to Fountain.

"Anyway, you're in."

"Thank God," Fountain said. "I saw him last night. He somehow trailed me to my ex-wife’s."

"Well, let me tell you, don’t fuck with Osama. You know that already." 

Servant called over the waitress.

Servant pointed at the menu while the waitress jotted down the order. "You can drive," he said.

"Like a bat outta hell.” Fountain smiled at the waitress. She gave a half smile and looked at Servant, waiting for him to order.

"What do you want?" Servant asked.

“Whatever’s good,” Fountain said.

Servant ordered for both of them. “You’re meeting Osama again tomorrow night.” He slid over a piece of paper to Fountain. “Play time is on Saturday.”

“I’m supposed to keep my kid that day.”

“Your plans have changed, friend.”

Fountain looked at his outstretched fingers on his hands and he held them out toward the table like two giant spiders about to land. He clenched his fingers into a fist and squeezed them for a moment like he was making fresh lemonade.

“I love summer,” he said.

#

Fountain was in the passenger seat and looking down at his hands clasped tightly together, as if in prayer. 

“This is the time to prove your loyalty,” Osama said. He was wearing a black suit and gold rimmed sunglasses and gripped the steering wheel, relaxed and sitting back in his seat. A large diamond on his right little finger moved like a sparkling snail dancing each time he rubbed his finger, back and forth, on the shiny wheel. He looked at his watch.

"Don’t fuck this up," he said.

#

Fountain looked ahead into the street which became a black river. “I won’t,” he said. Silent revelers walked along the zebra crossing as if crossing a white bridge. Fountain glanced to the left. A child of about four looked out the window of the ramen shop and moments later slid open the door. He ran under a curtain and toward the car. A woman ran out to grab the boy and drag him back inside.

“I have gifts,” Osama said. He reached into the backseat and into a briefcase, pulling out a Russian handgun.

"Baikal IZH-79."

"That’s right,” Osama said. “Take care of it.”

Fountain held the gun feeling the cool metal, a dragon in his hands.

"There are five bullets here.” Osama put the box on Fountain’s lap. Each one must be accountained for.”

Fountain breathed in and his body seemed to expand in the seat which each inhalation, returning to normal with every breath.

“So, please do not shoot unless you are being shot at."

“What about the body?”

“Dainin will move it to Aokigahara."

"The Sea of Trees,” Fountain said as he put the gun and box into his bag.

The child broke free again from his mother and stood outside the car banging on the glass window. Osama glared at the boy. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman said before dragging him back inside.

“Be careful of the sidewalk,” Osama said as Fountain opened the door. “There’s a lot of dog shit on this street.”

Fountain nodded and gently shut the door and King drove off.

#

 Saturday night, 11:53pm

“Go mother fucker go,” Dainin yelled.

“I can’t find my way. I turned down…”

Fountain made a left turn at the next corner. Sirens were in the distance.

“What the fuck are you doing? You’re going the wrong way.”

“Fuck it man, just shut the fuck up.”

“Oh no.”

“We’ll be ok.”

Fountain turned into an alley under the tracks where many of the homeless lived.

“This is good," Dainin said. "Pull in here." They had ditched their phones so they couldn't be tracked and instead used a stolen navigation system to find their way. They were in a large tunnel made by an overhead highway, and many box houses were built within the crevices. Small trees and shrubs lined one side where a canal claimed a border. Fountain drove the car between several box houses on the canal side and Dainin got out and dragged some cardboard and branches to hide the front. No homeless came out from their boxes. After a while the men decided to speak.

“Here, see I found myself out,” Fountain said. “If we go down this street,” Fountain pointed and held a small flashlight above his finger like surgeon. “We can make it to the garage in 15 minutes.”

“There must be cops everywhere,” Dainin said. “It’s too risky.”

“Let’s leave at 7am and blend in with the rush hour.”

Dainin agreed and they both tried to sleep.

The garage was a modern cement structure that spanned between two streets. It was long, narrow, and had two floors. The roof had large concrete ridges that resembled something industrial. In a way, it looked like a bookcase laid on its back, shelves pointing to the sky.

“What’s the time?”

Fountain looked at Dainin. “8am.” Fountain could see some blood Dainin’s clothes as he stripped from them.

“What happened to you? Did you get shot?” Fountain did not see any wounds. Dainin threw the clothes in the red cart.

"Extracurriculars,” Dainin said.

“I thought it was just a shoot and go." Fountain’s face began to tighten, his eyes seemed to bulge out more.

"No man, that Yak just collected on like 50 massage parlors." 

Dainin opened the briefcase to reveal several dozen 10,000 yen notes rolled up. 

"And half is yours if you can keep a secret."

Fountain noticed some blood got on some of the notes, resembling finger paint.

"Nah man,” he said. "I’m not fucking with the King.”

Dainin pulled out his gun from the bag. He was standing in the nude pointing the gun at Fountain, who was backing away, his arms in the air.

“Look,” he said. “I won’t say anything. Just take the money. I don’t need it man.”

Fountain reached for the Russian pistol but before he could get it, Dainin rushed Fountain and knock him unconscious with the butt of his gun. Dainin tied up Fountain and left the garage with the money.

#

“How do you feel?”

“Not good. Where am I?” Fountain was strapped to a bed in a large gray room with concrete walls and resembling a basement.

“Well, normally, when someone has been through what you’ve been through, they would be in a lot worse shape.” The man had a white lab coat. He was holding up a syringe and examined it. He flicked it twice.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re doing well. I guess you don’t know what happened to you. All of that can be explained later.”

“How did I get in the hospital?” Fountain noticed the hospital bed, the curtain. There was no window but there was a television that was not turned on.

“You are not in the hospital Mr. Fountain.”

“Where am I?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

He turned back and tested the strength of the arm fasteners. "Ribo," he yelled. 

A large man in a black suit entered the room. He was obviously a former sumo wrestler. He stood silently.

“Right. Good day," he said. "And I’ll be leaving you a little something for you. Don't worry, just one color. White."

“What is it?”

"It should help you get some sleep.”

“Name?”

“It’s for the pain." The large man in the black suit stood silently.

The man in the lab coat handed Fountain some water. 

"Here, to help you swallow." 

Fountain could reach up just enough to his mouth with hand restraints.

He made sure Fountain swallowed. “Ahh,” he said. Fountain repeated. The man patted Fountain on the shoulder. “Good luck,” he said. The man walked toward the door and turned around. 

“You’re welcome," he said. “That I didn’t kill you.” The door was bolted and Fountain spit out the pills.

"Thanks," he said.

#

Fountain used the phone to call his wife.

“Why were you swimming naked?” Mayumi cried into the phone.

“I don’t know. I don't remember.”

Fountain stopped talking.

"Hello?"

“Holy mother of God,” he said. “Come get me.”

The next morning Mayumi came to see him. 

“The doctor said you have to stay here at least a few days.” Tears dropped from her defeated face.

“I don’t remember anything,” Fountain said. 

“You were in the park again. Ikeda Park. Again.” She started to cry louder. “They found you naked and thought you were dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Fountain said but he did not know what the word meant. He felt detached from himself. He needed a hit. Or a drink. He needed out of the bed. A nurse came into the room and told them it was time.

"Get better," she said. "I love you."

“Where’s Len?”

“I’ll try to come back tomorrow. I can’t bring Len. Not yet.”

Fountain just noticed the restraints on his arms. He struggled to free his arms. He wanted to grab Mayumi, to hold her, to help him exit his body. To free him.

“Mayumi, wait,” he screamed. She shook her head and cried as she backed out of the room. The nurse helped guide her out with her arm and another nurse came in with a needle and stuck it into Fountain’s hip and he found himself falling, falling fast.