The Drowning God by James Kendley Page B

the mountains. They both breathed more deeply. Mori cracked the windows, and the car filled with a fresh, wild breeze. Takuda bowed his head from side to side to crack his neck, and Mori loosened his grip on the wheel.
    The breeze swayed the cedars on the mountainsides. It stirred stands of bamboo at the roadside and sent showers of falling plum blossoms across the windshield.
    When they left the mountains and began to descend toward the city, Mori closed the windows so he didn’t have to shout over the wind whipping through the car.
    â€œSo, Kuma is as simple as he looks. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t see anything strange because he’s never been anywhere else.”
    Takuda frowned. “What happened when you mentioned the water safety question?”
    Mori glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “He mentioned a boy you both used to know, a boy nicknamed Little Bear.”
    Takuda slapped the back of the seat. Little Bear. Sergeant Kuma had been the biggest in the club, so the boys had joked that he was a bear, kuma , even though the characters of his family name did not mean “bear.” When the new Kuma had shown up, the nickname “Little Bear” had been inevitable.
    â€œYou knew the boy?”
    â€œYes, the other Kuma. Tadanori was his given name. He was tiny, with arms like chopsticks. His mother pushed him into judo, and he cried every day. About the time he disappeared, we also stopped seeing his father heading to the fields. Someone said they were living with an uncle in the city.”
    â€œThis attempted abduction makes you think otherwise?”
    â€œIt sounds like the sergeant thinks otherwise, doesn’t it?”
    Mori didn’t reply.
    Takuda closed his eyes. Spring sunshine warmed the car, and shadows played blue and orange across the insides of his eyelids. The hum of the car was soothing, almost hypnotic. Soon he dreamt of sunlight flashing on the brownish water of the canal branch beside his parents’ house. Something moved beneath the surface, and then he was underwater, face-­to-­face with his brother. His brother was suddenly yanked away, but he dragged Takuda along behind. As they sped deeper and deeper toward the riverbed, his brother became his son. His son screamed soundlessly. Takuda could not see what force dragged his son down into the rocks and murk, but it was relentless. His heart died inside him as his son’s tiny hand slowly slipped out of his grasp, again, again, again, always just out of reach. As his son disappeared in the greenish water, the river stilled around Takuda. He could not breathe. He was trapped, spinning in darkness.
    Then the river tore his face from his skull.
    He woke screaming, but he could not open his mouth. It took a moment to remember where he was.
    In the rearview mirror, he caught Officer Mori returning his eyes to the road.

 
    CHAPTER 8
    A t headquarters, Detective Takuda filed a perfunctory report while Officer Mori returned the car to the motor pool. Takuda presented a copy at the desk of Superintendent Yamada.
    â€œI’d like to stick around this case. I know the area very well,” Takuda said.
    Yamada sat in the center of the office so subordinates could reach him. The detectives at desks that surrounded his didn’t bother to hide their interest in the conversation.
    â€œTakuda, it’s a good thing someone knows that area. Some ­people think it’s the ass crack of the prefecture, and other ­people think it’s the armpit. As with ass cracks and armpits, no one ever gets a good look. I forget it’s even there. Every time I meet someone who’s actually been, I’m surprised.”
    â€œOku Village is my hometown, Superintendent.”
    Yamada raised his eyebrows as he put aside Takuda’s report. “I think I knew that, but I forgot. Did anyone else remember that?”
    The other detectives had drifted off from the conversation. A few