My Yakuza by A.J. Llewellyn (books for 6 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📕

she waved back. God helped those who helped themselves and Goddess Pele took care of her own.

For one brief moment, she wondered if she should have called the police after all, but she felt her grandson was in enough trouble as it was. Nobody would miss two damned yakuza. And look how she got to help a good man in his own kind of trouble.

Her thoughts turned to Shiro. She hoped he would soon call. Now she really needed that bath…

* * * *

Kono checked the directions Jerrell had given him. As they arrived at the quiet beach lining Long Island Sound, it seemed already to Kono that it worked its charm on his squirrely companion. Shiro was an amazing guy, and they both needed this.

“There really are boats in the harbour,” Shiro said. “Man, I’m an island guy and I feel like I can breathe at last. This place is something else.”

He jumped out of the car before Kono could even stop.

“Wait!” Kono called out.

But Shiro was already walking across the grass to the two-centuries-old building that housed several units split off into time-share rentals.

Kono found the lockbox Jerrell had said was rusted shut from the ocean air. He tried a few times to wrestle the numbers into submission and almost gave up when the lock popped open.

Shiro grabbed his hand with childlike glee. “Come on!”

They found their own entrance up a set of stone stairs. It was a long, narrow apartment with a definite holiday feel. They entered a very large room with two queen beds, a desk, chair, television and a love seat by the windows. They checked out the bathroom, which was all marble and roomy, and had a jetted tub. The whole place ended at the oceanfront.

“Holy shit,” Shiro said, opening the glass doors and moving to the fridge.

Somebody had been in here. Jerrell said he’d asked the guy who was the caretaker to the property to stock the fridge.

“The guy thinks I’m coming there and at some point I will, just to check on you two, but please keep a low profile,” Jerrell had said.

Kono and Shiro checked the contents of the fridge. Plenty of food.

“There’s a hibachi on the patio. I’m famous for my barbecue,” Shiro said. He seemed relaxed for the first time since Kono had met him.

“I’ll get the stuff from the car.”

He went outside, wedged the Tempo into the correct spot and as he emptied the trunk, his cell phone rang.

“Hey, Chief.”

“Any problems?”

“None.”

“Your funeral is the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh.” That feels weird. “How nice.”

Jerrell chuckled. “So keep your head down.”

“I will.” In that cute Hawaiian ass upstairs.

“It’s been tough keeping Shiro’s location a secret. After getting knocked around by our guys, plenty of others want a piece of his ass. ”

I want a piece of it, too.

“Keep him hidden. We’ve kept his prison transfer a secret. We don’t want any hassles until we can get you into court to deliver your testimony.”

“He wants to call his grandma.”

Kono grabbed some stuff from the truck and hauled it up the stairs.

“He can call her. He can say he’s in protective custody. He needs to keep it brief and not give her any reason to worry. In a few days, we’ll get you out to the house we discussed in Mastic.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Kono dumped everything in the hallway and kicked shut the front door.

“No problem.”

Shiro came into room and Kono ended the call.

“We’re staying here for a few days and then we’re going to a house in Mastic, which is farther out on the Island. We’ll stay there until the trial.”

“What is this house?” Shiro asked.

“It belongs to a friend of mine.”

“Can you trust this friend not to betray us?”

“He’s a former lover, so yeah, we can trust him.”

“Okay, if you say so. Listen, I need to call my grandma again, okay? I don’t like how the last call went. I sensed something wasn’t right and that she was being forced to ask me questions.”

“Sure, but tell her you’re in isolation somewhere and the guards let you make one phone call to anywhere you wanted for the right price. They can’t trace the call, so I’m not concerned about that. The cell number you’re calling from is blocked so they can’t even see that. Make it as quick as possible.”

Shiro walked over to the comfortable chair and sat as he dialed the number in Hawaii. After four rings, his grandma answered the phone.

“Yes, who is it?”

“Grandma, it’s me, your grandson!”

“Oh my dear, what have you done? I saw on the news that you were arrested for killing a policeman! Did you? Were you forced to do that?”

“I can’t really talk about that. I’m in isolation and was allowed by the guards to make one phone call to anywhere after I bribed them. Are you well? You didn’t sound okay the last time we spoke.”

“There were two men here, Japanese men, and they forced me to call you. I tried to tip you off by the words I chose carefully.”

“Yes, I felt there was something wrong. The men, where are they now? Are they still there?” a worried Shiro asked.

“No, they left about an hour ago and should be up in the mountains by now. Don’t worry about those men. They fell asleep and dreamt the long dream of tomorrow.”

Shiro recognised that sentence from a poem she used to read to him when he was little. It was about the trip to the hereafter that an old married couple made after over one hundred years loving each other.

Oh, my god. She killed them!

He chose his words carefully because grandma was a bit crazy and had her own way about things. If he got upset, she’d hang up on him.

“Do you know who these men were?”

“Yes, one man told me his name was Keizo just before he began his dream. The other man—the one with death in his eyes was Nobuo.”

“Keizo! Are you sure he said his name was Keizo, Grandma?”

“Quite certain.