THE MOON OF MARS

PROLOGUE

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PROLOGUE

DEATH OF A VANILLA BEAN

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Saturday. February 9th. 2002.

Belleville. Michigan.

3:35 pm

BIG SNOWFLAKES FALL UPON THE FROZEN WATER OF THE BELLEVILLE RIVER. No green in sight. The dead trees and grass are in a blanket of snow. Vehicles drive slowly on slippery roads that coat the steep hills of middle Michigan. A police cruiser blends in with the traffic of downtown Belleville. Leaving downtown, there's no red light for miles. The single lane road of Colombia Avenue is the combination of two roads: Belleville and High Street. Belleville High School sits on the branch of these roads. A railroad track pushes the small town to the shore, leaving the other side full of forestry. A neighborhood with a big pond wraps in cul-de-sacs sits next to the school. In the house closest to the pond, a mother cooks in her kitchen.

Momo Koe Ikki- Abe carefully yanks the red velvet cake from the hot oven. Warmth heats her pale face as she gently drops the pan on the stovetop. Her dark green eyes glare out the kitchen window somberly. Inside her mind drifts as little black kids race on their bikes down Red Pond Drive. Her eyes follow them until they turn down Brook Street, jetting to the tiny pond between Mrs. Kelly's dark green bungalow and Momo Koe's pale blue cape cod house. The pond isn't red, but Momo Koe is feeling blue. She lets out a deep exhale and rips her mittens off, tossing them next to the cake.

She goes towards the mini hallway, looking down to see the dog's food bowl was empty. The Asian beauty reaches low by the fridge and drags the bag heavier than her to the bowl. As she pours, the pellets hitting the plastic triggers tiny paw prints to clack on the wood. From the living room, a Loewchen—or 'Little Lion' in German— appears in the kitchen with her tongue out panting. She sits before Momo Koe, closing her mouth and staring with her big brown eyes. Momo Koe looks down at the dog, asking, "Hungry, Ita?" She rolls her tongue. The dog stands, opening her mouth again, this time whining out loud. Mom Koe a motions her to the bowl, holding her point for Ita to pick up the command. Her eyes look up, staring at a framed Japanese quote. It says the popular Japanese phrase, "What you owe your father is higher than the mountains, and what you owe your mother is deeper than the ocean." A phrase she and her family lives by, down to the soul.

The sounds of a cartoon plumber punching bricks overwhelm the smell of the velvet cake. Ita finishes and pushes the first door open, leaping on the couch as Momo Koe peaks inside the den. She sees her young son, Mo'Reese Ko George Abe, too close to the small box TV playing Super Mario Bros.

"Moko-Bo," she startles the toddler. "Away from the screen. You'll go blind." He does so, but only a little. She pinches her lip into her cheek and leaves down the hall. Momo Koe enters her bedroom with another deep sigh. George Luther Abe hears this one, standing at the white vanity fixing his red-stripe clip-on tie, fluffing the beige collar over. His bright blue eyes glance at his wife through the mirror, watching her come closer to sit on the stool below him. "What is it, fufuu?"

"She's not here yet." Momo Koe shakes her head. Their bedroom faces the street, she speeds to peek through the white curtains. "Mae Omi-san said three o'clock."

"The roads are bad, baby. She isn't used to driving in snow."

She scoffs. "We came here in a blizzard on a damn bus. I don't want to hear it." She also huffs, "I gave birth to my daughter on that bus, and I'd like to see her." Again, she shakes her long bob cut. She pulls the drawer out to grab her m*******a and tools, setting them on the vanity. "Onee-san also said something that concerned me."

"What?" George sits on the bed, snatching his black army boots and sliding his foot in. A silver cross dangles from his pale chest. He's a handsome white man born into an Irish and French bloodline, having a stereotypical blonde with a buzz cut and a bushy mustache to match. Kind as he looks, he even puts his shoes on gently.

"She said something happened that only needs to be talked about in person."

George looks up. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know. But when I asked her if it had to do with Moeko-chan, she got quiet."

"Huh..." he smirks weakly, "that's unlike Mae to be quiet."

"Exactly." Her eyes lower along with the joint between her fingers. "She's angry at us, Dan'na." Momo Koe puts the joint between her red lips and smokes.

He shrugs. "She must learn bad behavior is unacceptable in this house. It was just Christmas with your family, not border school."

"Mine as well be border school." Momo Koe chuckles awkwardly, feeling the numbing sting of the weed relax her whole body. She exhales, finally. Not for long. The sound of an engine lingers too long outside. "Is she here?"

George looks through the window to see a white jeep parked in front. "Yes." He says, looking back. "She's here."

"I'll be there in a minute." Momo Koe sips the joint.

George nods and closes their door. He walks past the wooden steps to the front door, standing at the doorway in a distant but direct eye contact with his pre-teen daughter, Moeko Kaye Atsumi Abe, in the passenger seat. Her raven hair has grown to pass her shoulders, and she wears an expensive fur coat he's never seen before. Curious, he walks to the car just as Mae Omi hops out of the driver side.

The small and chubby Asian lady carefully comes around, using the engine to support herself from slipping. Her neon-green platform boot anchors on a small bank of snow as her arm leans on the graphic 'Psycho b***h' décor on the side of her hood. "I f*****g hate Michigan." Hot air escapes her chapped lips. Her pale skin is dry, folded eyes watering. "Why? Why did you move here?"

"I actually want to be around my family." George says with a smirk. He looks to Moeko, who rolls down her window. "Hey, Moka-chan. I like that coat."

"Arigato, Tou-san." I said, holding the mink close to my body. It's hard not to speak Japanese when speaking English meant a belt to my back. "Obaa-san gave me it for Christmas." My grassy green eyes don't rise from the department. They go anywhere, the street, pond, my Sobo, anywhere but my chichi. I couldn't do it. Sobo notices, rising from the hood and gaining his attention.

"Gikei," She uses the Japanese honorific for 'brother-in-law, "there's something you need to know." Her head bows.

I see my father swallow hard as he glares at me. He has blue eyes that are sharp as a knife; they stab when he stares. I usually wasn't afraid of them, as I know he couldn't wield a weapon without provocation. "What is it?"

My mouth opens. "Please, Otou-san," I use the respectful honorific, "you have to listen. It wasn't my fault." My voice breaks. Tears stream down my face and into the white fur.

"What did you do?"

"Gikei, it wasn't her fault." Sobo says clearing her throat. "Let's talk inside. It's cold." She tucks her hands in her pockets and face me. "Come on." Like a force pulling me, I open the door and step out. I was the one to lead them into the house.

When I open the door, my mother cheers in front of the stairs. "Welcome home, Moeko-chan!" She holds a red velvet cake with no icing except for my name under 'Happy 12th Birthday' in Katakana. Mo'Reese Ko held her left leg, hiding behind her thigh with his head rested on her tiny waist.

I smile at her. "Thank you, Kaa-san. I miss you." My eyes drift down to the toddler. "Remember me, otouto?"

He nods his head full of thin, black hair. "Moeko."

"That's onee-chan, bocc-chan."

"Hey, we're not in Flagstaff with the Nazis." Sobo says. "We can speak English."

Kaa puts the cake on the coffee table. "He has to learn honorifics."

"I understand, but we need to talk straightforward."

"Why?" She squints her eyes at her older sister.

Sobo motions her hand towards the couch. "Sit down."

"No." Kaa denied. "Why are you being secretive? Speak now."

"I can't outright tell you, imouto-chan." She rolls her eyes at the use of the younger sister honorific. "I need to explain."

"Explain what?" Tou folds his arms.

I sit down on the couch, telling my baby brother, "Come here, ototo." He does so, walking to the cushion and climbing by my side. I hug the little marshmallow, pinching his chubby cheeks. Sobo joins, sitting on the other couch next to me. My mother and father stand side by side, peering down at us. Kaa is much shorter than my gigantic father, yet I fear her more than him right now.

Sobo opens her mouth slowly. "Do you remember Kunjo?"

"Our Japanese tutor?" Kaa got visibly uncomfortable. "What about him?"

"He... um..." Sobo looks at me and sighs. "Tell them, Moeko-chan."

I lick, then bite my lower lip. "He had s*x with me." A lump forms in my throat. My leg shakes. "I'm pregnant."

Kaa's eyes look down at the cake. Somehow, she's paler than her natural skin. A vacant gaze glazes over her hazel eyes. The same is for Tou. His blue eyes drag to Sobo as he says, "Excuse me?"

"She's about a few weeks pregnant. We took her to the doctor after she complained of cramps." Sobo answered.

Tou kept his eyes on Sobo. "Who is he?"

"Kunjo Rkuemon. Our Japanese tutor." Sobo answers.

Kaa clears her throat and plays with her thumbs. "Eh... it was when we were teenagers. Okaasan's mind made her believe we were in Japan, so she hired this Japanese teacher who supposedly passed the fifth level of the official Japanese language test." She looks at me, then to the ground.

"Great answer. Now answer this; how the f**k did he r**e my daughter?" He shoots his head to Sobo. "Where were you?"

"For your information, George, I no longer live with my parents. This was out of my control. I'm only there on Sundays. Don't put the blame on me."

"You're right." Tou rubs his face. "I'm sorry."

Surprise shocks Sobo. "It's... it's okay, Gikei."

"Don't blame our parents, either." Kaa says in a low volume.

"Why? They watch her every second. They didn't see a man have s*x with my child?!" He looks at me, talking softly, "How did this happen, Moeko-chan?"

Tears fall down my face. Kaa is right: Obaa watched me every second. While Ojii still works at the plant, Obaa stayed home doing her grocery list of chores she kept herself busy with. All of them included me. I wasn't ever going to leave her sight. It happened once. Obaa only went to the store because I wanting dumplings for dinner, and another snow storm was brewing. So, she went early and didn't want to wake me up. But Kaa is right as well. It's not her fault he took advantage of her absence. He took advantage of me. It took only one time for Ojii to have to go to work, and Obaa not to be home from the store yet.

"Misoka-san will be here shortly." My grandfather said at the door, putting his fedora on his bald head. "She's stuck in Ann Arbor's traffic. You know how it is, Kunjo-san." He speaks in Japanese.

"Yes, sir. I do. Everything will be fine here. You don't have to worry." He pats Ojii's shoulder. "You have a good day at work."

Ojii stares at his palm and to his young face. He grins that warm smile of his. "Take care, Kunjo-san." He eyes me, smile fading. "Moeko-chan, behave while Kunjo tutors you."

"Yes, Ojii-san." I nod from the couch. When Ojii leaves, Kunjo shuts the door behind him. He paces to the free spot beside me, reaching for the thick language book and opening to chapter three.

"Do you remember where we left off?" He asks me.

"Declension of words."

"Correct." He smiles. "I want to try something new."

"What's that?" I ask.

He scoots closer to me, eyes scanning down my body. "I ask you a question, and if you get it wrong..." Kunjo rests his hand on my shoulder. "Strip."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"You heard me, Moeko-chan. It's just a warm-up. Don't worry." There's an urge in his words.

"I don't want to do that." I said low, eyes glancing at the empty foyer.

"Moeko-chan," his eyelids lower, "didn't Obaa-san teach you about respecting your elders?"

I nod, "Yes."

"In Japan, if a person older than you tells you to do something, you do it. Especially your teachers and officials. Do you understand?"

I hesitate to nod. What he was asking me to do was wrong. Somewhere in me knew that. "... Yes." I say anyway with heavy hesitation.

The look in his usually soft eyes hardens. "f**k it." He growls, gripping my blouse. I hold his hands, but he rips the buttons off. When I try to cover my training bra, he yanks my wrists apart. "I don't have time for this. You scream or say anything, I'll go harder. Understand, Moeko?"

"Go harder? What does..." A lump forms in my throat. My body freezes in place. I cannot move. I am numb to the touch. The foyer is still empty. Kunjo has shown his sharp teeth, and I didn't realize it until I was in the beast's belly.

Lemony Snicket explains this expression as a theme for the ninth book of 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'. It means you've already seen the danger, the teeth of the beast, and did everything you can to beat him or escape. By the time you're in the belly, it's too late. You're a devoured meal. You are his victim. I accepted defeat instead of fighting. There was no fight to be had. I was weak. When Kunjo showed his teeth, I got scared. I froze and remained frozen the entire time. It only lasted ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. It felt like only pain. He could 'go harder' if I pissed him off. That terrified me more, turned me into a doll. I stared off at the living room ceiling the entire time. I don't think I blinked once. I don't think he noticed or cared.

Ann Arbor's traffic does suck. Obaa didn't arrive until after he put me in a bath. "He told her I pissed myself." My head lowers as tears flow down my cheeks.

"I'm going to kill him."

"George..."

"In Jesus' name, I'm going to kill him." Tou stands, leaving the scene. Kaa doesn't get up, until we hear a loud thud from the master bedroom. She gets up and leaves.

"It's going to be okay, Moeko." Sobo brushes my hair with her fingertips. By then my tears are slower and my sobs fade to silent. "You're going to be okay. You come from a long line of strong women. You will persevere, my dear."

My face doesn't budge, just like during the r**e. I accepted this as a result of my actions. For sleeping with my friend's ex-boyfriend and stabbing her so bad she couldn't use her dominant hand until healed. I was pregnant at twelve by r**e. I thought it only happened to me. Imagine my shock when I found out this wasn't that rare after all. And I believe that made me angrier.