Missing in Tokyo by Graham Marks

Nothing. He thought hard, trying to remember the last time he’d used it. It was the long weekend trip he and a couple of mates had taken to Amsterdam during the previous autumn break. And then he remembered. It would be where his mum always kept the family’s passports, ever since he was a kid. In her bedside cabinet. She must’ve found it when she emptied his bag and did his washing.
    By four o’clock, when he’d agreed to meet Suzy at a café just off the high street, Adam had got his money – £150 in traveller’s cheques and £75 in Yen, which cleaned him out, but what the hell – he’d bought the
Rough Guide to Tokyo,
some toothpaste, deodorant, batteries, shampoo and a new pair of sunglasses. The bare essentials. He also had a new battery put in his old Casio watch – it could show dual time, which he was sure would be useful. At home, after checking the weather in Tokyo again – hot and humid – he’d gathered together the minimum amount of clothing he reckoned he could get away with and had found a mid-sized backpack, hidden at the bottom of Charlie’s closet, that he was sure he could jam everything into.
    Every time he completed a task, ticking it off on his mental list, he felt good, but then when he did something major, like rinse his savings account, he felt sick with an awful mix of guilt and heightened anticipation; the emotional cocktail swung him first down into the depths of self-loathing, because he was doing all this behind his parents’ backs, and then way back up in the clouds. He was going to Tokyo. He was going to find Charlie. He really was.
    Suzy, already waiting for him, smiled as he walked intothe café. ‘You look pleased with yourself, anything happened?’
    Adam leant over and kissed her. ‘You could say.’
    â€˜Could say what?’
    â€˜You’re probably gonna think I’m crazy, but I’m going to Tokyo.’
    Suzy’s eyes widened. ‘With your dad, to try and find Charlie? That’s great, Ad!’
    Adam pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘By myself … I’m going by myself.’ Now he’d said it out loud for the first time, to another person. Waiting for Suzy’s reaction, he felt like Wile E. Coyote when he’d careered off the cliff in pursuit of the Roadrunner and was hanging in midair, waiting to plummet way, way down into the canyon. ‘Told you it was crazy …’
    â€˜But why … ?’
    â€˜I can’t stand watching my mum cry all the time because she doesn’t know what’s going on with Charlie.’ Adam sat back and watched a man at another table light up a cigarette. ‘And I can’t stand waiting for the time to be right for my dad to go. So
I’m
doing it. Going tomorrow.’
    â€˜Tomorrow?’
    â€˜Yeah, one o’clock flight from Heathrow.’
    â€˜Where’d you get the money, Ad?’
    â€˜You really don’t want to know … but I need your help.’
    â€˜To do what?’
    â€˜I’m going to leave a note saying that we’ve gone away for a few days … you don’t have to do anything – and they don’t know how to get in touch with you – but don’t tell anyone where I am, not even Andy.’ Adam could smell the cigarette, could almost feel the chemical reaction as he breathed it in; smell it, want it, like when you went past a fast-food restaurant.
    â€˜You shouldn’t’ve told me then, should you? Cos if you hadn’t, then I really wouldn’t know.’
    Adam frowned; there she was, being practical again. ‘I had to tell someone, Suze … I’ve been inside my head with it all since last night and had to run it past someone.’
    â€˜You normally run something past a person
before
you do it.’
    â€˜OK, so I said it wrong, sorree …’ Adam got up, not looking at her. ‘You want a cup of