Chapter Five—The Family

They had parked the truck in an empty warehouse while Ichiro, John, Harlan, Carter and Joji unloaded the food.

Ichiro had felt somewhat concerned when the neighbor spotted them in the truck, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Goda had never looked at them like that before, so why did he have that hostility in his eyes?

“Ichiro?” Joji asked.

“Mm?”

“Do you think Goda-san will be a problem?”

I hope not.

“I don’t know,” he said. “We should keep an eye on him.”

Dawson smiled. “How about you offer to give him some food? If he’s feeling a little jealous, an offering might make him think twice about doing something stupid.”

“I do not think it is jealousy,” Joji said with a shrug. “He’s concerned that we will bring the Madison Army down on us.

Ichiro sighed. “The more people who see us—the more of them we give food—the more the word spreads.”

John nodded. “I understand, but in this case, I don’t think you have a choice.”

Nodding, Ichiro said, “Go and invite him here then, Joji.”

“All right,” the older man said with a nod. It was hot and he was wearing only shorts, sandals and a sleeveless shirt, while Ichiro wore similar clothes, though he wore voluminous trousers cut off just above the ankle and his shirt was not sleeveless.

He wiped his brow and turned at the sound of footsteps.

“Ichiro.”

It was old lady Mamaia. She had six grandchildren and she was the friendliest old lady Ichiro had ever met. “You did not have to come all the way out here,” he said in protest. “The rains are coming.”

“Oh,” she said as she shook him off. “My old bones can handle a bit of walking—and I’ve walked through many a rain in my day, boy.”

“Hmm.”

She smiled, most of her teeth missing. She looked like she was a thousand years old at least, but her chipper demeanor and high energy made her somewhat of an anomaly—often making Ichiro laugh.

That was a thing he didn’t do often.

Smiling, he said. “We will bring food—for you and the children.”

She touched his arm and nodded. “You’re like the son I never had, Ichiro.”

“But you have seven children!”

“Ah,” she said, tilting her head. “All girls.” She raised her arms in defeat, but then looked up at him. “Having three grandsons more than makes up for it.”

He nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Dawson said as he put out a hand. She took it lightly “John Dawson. I met Ichiro just today. Can you say with confidence that he’s a good man?”

“What?” she asked, stressing the syllables of the word as her shock was evident. “Of course this sweet boy is wonderful. Always so helpful. The last time the food trucks didn’t come, he went out and found us so many mushrooms. He came back and made a big pot of stew. Where he found the meat, I don’t know. I’m not entirely certain I want to know.” She chortled.

Dawson smiled.

The rains began to pour down heavily atop the warehouse. “We need to get this truck out of here,” Ichiro said.

“Hiding food in the cellar is one thing, but if we get caught with this truck, we’re going to be in a lot of trouble.” John scratched his head. “I still need to get to my commander.”

“We will dump the truck,” Ichiro said, then tomorrow, I will help you get to your people.”

John nodded.

“Oh,” Mamaia said. “You’re with those resistance boys, aren’t you?”

“Umm…” Dawson said nervously. “Yeah.”

He was young, but smiling like that made him look even younger than he was. She patted his arm. “Then you be careful, you hear?”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Nodding her approval, she turned and strode away in a shuffle.

“Come on,” Ichiro said as he got into the truck.

Carter and Joji opened the gates. Joji saluted them on their way out and Ichiro nodded. Harlan glanced back and forth up on the road, then turned and beckoned them forward. John drove the truck out.

“Take the left,” Ichiro said as rain smacked the windshield. It sounded like little pebbles hitting the glass. “I know a good place to dump the truck.”

“You’re well-liked back there,” John said with a grin. “If it wasn’t for what I just saw, I would have said you were some kind of deeply contemplative type—taciturn even.”

“I do not open up quickly to strangers.”

“Strangers?” Dawson asked incredulously. “I say once you kill people together, there’s very little between you to be strangers about.”

Ichiro glanced at him, wondering if that had any merit. “Hmm.”

Dawson laughed as the buildings went by. “Don’t be so dour. I’m kind of glad it’s storming. They won’t see us driving down the road in their stolen truck!”

Ichiro nodded.

“So,” Dawson said slowly. “They’re like your family, huh?”

He glanced at the resistance man. “Why do you want to know?”

Dawson shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just trying to get to know you a little better.”

Ichiro said nothing.

“I give it a week. One week before you spill all your guts to me because we’re going to be best friends.

“Hmm.”

Unlikely…

Dawson laughed.