Unknown Victim by Kay Hadashi (classic books for 11 year olds .TXT) 📕

secured in the back of his truck, they got in to leave. He didn’t start the engine right away, though. Instead, he nodded at something in front of them.

“Catholic Church, yah?”

Gina strained her eyes to read the sign. “Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Yep, that would be a Catholic Church.”

“Three services every Sunday,” he said, as though he already knew something about the place.

She gave him a hard look, knowing the subtle meaning of why they had gone out so early. “Too bad I have a plumbing project this morning.”

“Looks like a nice place.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said.

“Been there a long time.” When he left the parking lot, he drove slowly past the church sign. “Three times, three choices.”

Gina eyed the sign more carefully. Two of the services were in English, the early Mass and the afternoon service, while the late morning service was in Filipino. That was the usual time she would go at home with her family, if she were still going to church. She knew from experience that the afternoon services were attended primarily by young adults looking for a social life as much as for spiritual edification.

“I’d at least need to attend a service in a language I understand. If I’m going to get a guilt trip laid on me, I at least want to know what for.”

As usual, silence descended between them, which was beginning to wear on her nerves.

“So, do you do other things besides home repair?”

“Hanashi banashi for after work.”

The foreign words were part of his admonition from the day before, and Gina still had no idea what they meant, and didn’t know how to reply. All she could do was wait to get home and go back to bed. It was Sunday, after all, and nobody expected anyone else to work. Instead, they had a plumbing project waiting for them. “Okay.”

When they got back to the estate, they took the tank to the porch. Waiting there was the same cat as the first two mornings. This time, it simply looked up at her and meowed as though it wanted something.

“I’m not feeding you,” she said, looking down at the cat. Hesitantly, she reached down to rub behind its ears. “If you want a meal, go find one of those funny looking brown rat things that live in the brambles.”

While Gina removed the box from around the tank, Kenzo brought a tool box from his truck. It was turning out to be a bigger project than she anticipated, which required turning off the electricity and water to the house. After handing her a wrench, he showed her how to disconnect the old tank from the pipes that led in and out of it.

“Isn’t it full of water?”

“Hope not. Been broke for a long time. Pretty smelly water if there is some.”

Keeping her mental fingers crossed, Gina detached the last of the connections. When only a tiny dribble came out, it was as smelly as he said it might be. It also had a thick rusty appearance.

They carried that tank out to the back of the house and left it in the weeds. Kenzo said something in Japanese, which to Gina’s ignorant ears, sounded like a curse on the tank. While she cleaned the vacant floor, he brought a few new fittings from his truck. It took another hour before she had been taught how to reconnect the pipes and their new fittings to the replacement tank.

“Okay, acid test,” he said. “Go turn on the electricity.”

“We’re not going to burn down the house with this thing?” she asked.

“Hope not.”

With a shrug, Gina hit the main breaker and turned on the electricity to the house again. When she got back to the tank, Kenzo tapped a wrench on a valve.

“Okay, turn on the water.”

Gina turned the handle on the valve. The sound of water could be heard as it rushed through the pipe and into the tank. He had her open the kitchen sink faucet to let air out of the system.

“See any drips?” he asked.

“No. That’s good, right?”

“Only place water comes out of pipes is from the faucet, and only when you want it to. Know what to do if there’s a leak?”

“Turn off the water?”

“Right. Anything else?”

“Call you,” she said.

For maybe the first time, she saw him smile. “Try fixing it yourself first. Then call me.”

Kenzo packed up his tools and went back to his truck, which meant to Gina the job was finished and he was satisfied. And if he was satisfied, she figured she had nothing to worry about. Still, she kept her fingers crossed while making her breakfast, now two hours overdue.

When she heard a bang on the side of the house, she peeked through louvered windows to see what was going on. She found Kenzo climbing the ladder, once again wearing his tool belt. Bundled under one arm were several old palm fronds.

She went out to see what he was going to do with them.

“I thought the roof was done? What’re those for?”

“Over the porch,” he said, looking down at her. “Bring up more fronds.”

She found the giant stack of fronds that had been collected. It would take a dozen trips up and down the ladder to get them up to him. Remembering a length of rope she’d seen in a pile of trash, she tied a large bundle of fronds together. The roofer watched while she tossed the other end of the rope up to him. Palm fronds aren’t heavy, so the bundle was easily pulled up. It took only a couple more hoists to get all the new layer of roofing material up to him, and Gina joined him there.

He was stapling fronds to rafters over the front porch with a heavy stapling gun. The stem end aimed toward the pitch, with the leaves of adjoining fronds overlapping to make a thick matt that would provide shade to the wide porch. She knew better than to start a conversation, but needed to know what was