Emmy, Angela, Jen, and of course Grant and Tiny left when Emmy was satisfied with her makeup disguise after breakfast. She’d applied Tiny’s makeup herself, pretending to not notice that it made Tiny uncomfortable.
Alone at last, I got back to work, certain that Emmy would be fine with her disguise and Grant’s watchful eye.
I really had been ignoring things too long and there was plenty of catching up to do for me, even with the new paradigm of letting the various Heads run their divisions autonomously. They still had questions or projects they felt might need my sign-off, or general guidance. This was ideal, as far as I was concerned. They were only coming to me with top-level issues now, and that was just the way I wanted it. I was very, very happy to leave the managing behind.
I had one personal email that caught my attention. It was from a Colonel Roger Bridger, and I would have marked it as spam and deleted it without reading except for the fact he name-checked Harry Powell in the subject line. Curious, I opened it and read what the good colonel had to say.
He reminded me that we’d been introduced at the afterparty for the show at London’s Royal Albert Hall.
I vaguely remembered the man, but had no idea why he’d gotten Harry to give him my email address, and there really was no clue in the email. He merely said that he would like to talk when I next found myself in London, and invited me to visit his club. By ‘his club’ I took it to mean the old-school men’s club he belonged to and not the sort of clubs I owned.
I filed it away mentally, telling myself that I’d do it if only to assuage my curiosity about his interest and see what one of those clubs is like inside. I pictured big chairs, fireplaces and waiters pouring brandy while old geezers discuss the Raj, then laughed at the mental image.
Donny had responded to my last email with a link to a gallery of family photos. I smiled at the pictures of little Aaron standing on a piece of driftwood at the beach, one leg raised and arms held in a classic cheesy karate ‘crane’ pose. My heart warmed a little at the picture of Aaron on a couch next to his grandfather, who was reading ‘The Little Prince’ to him.
Other pictures were of Aaron wearing a little apron, helping his grandmother make cookies or something like that. Aaron wearing a Seattle Seahawks jersey about seven sizes too big. Aaron, sleeping on a couch at home, just at the verge of sliding off and onto the floor…
My favorite, though, was a picture of Sana and Donny out at a nice restaurant on date night, no Aaron anywhere to be seen. The two looked happy and in love, if slightly tired. I was very glad to see that they were managing to find time just for each other when they could.
I was busy typing up a reply to Donny when somebody knocked softly on the suite’s door. I didn’t realize it was our door that was being knocked on at first- it was so quiet that I’d assumed it was some other room down the hall, until perhaps the third time I heard it.
Puzzled by who would knock so quietly, I tried to move silently to the door to peek through the peephole. There were two men outside in the hallway, one old guy maybe in his seventies and a younger, fit and athletic guy who might have been thirty years old at the most. They were dressed the way I’d seen a lot of Japanese men dress, in sort of a business semi-casual look. They could have been hotel employees, but they didn’t have the name tags all the staff seemed to wear.
That was when I noticed it- both seemed to be wearing dark eyeliner.
I hustled over to my suitcase and quickly found and put on my anti-slash turtleneck, then yanked on my baggy hoodie to cover it. I answered the door, holding Stabby Jr in my hidden hand.
“Can I help you?” I asked the men, only partially opening the door.
“We would like to speak to Emmy Lascaux,” the younger man said with a strong accent.
“If this is Night Children business, it’s me you want to talk to,” I answered.
The younger guy translated for the older man, who gave a quick reply.
“My grandfather finds your… words poetic,” said the young man. “He has never heard us described that way, but understood what you meant.”
“So this does have to do with our people?” I asked for clarification.
Again, the younger guy translated, and the older man’s response was clearly negative.
“We wish to speak to Miss Lascaux, to see her in person. We are very curious about her. But grandfather does not understand what you mean by ‘our people’.”
“She isn’t here, and as I said, it’s me you really need to talk to, anyhow.” I glanced up and down the hallway and saw it was empty save the two guys. “Do you intend any violence?” I asked.
After the translation came back, the young guy said, “We merely wish to see if…”
“Her coloration is real, just like yours,” I said. “Now answer my question. Are you here with violence in mind?”
The young guy translated what I’d said, and the older man got a bit agitated.
“No, we did not come here to shed blood,” the young guy said.
“Alright,” I replied. “You can come in, but I want your knives on that table there,” I said, pointing to the table near the door. I still hadn’t revealed my black-bladed dagger, but I was certain the two men were armed. After all, I knew I wasn’t wrong about them being Night Children.
The older guy entered first, looking around the suite.
“Blades over there,” I told him, pointing at the table. “I know you have some.”
The two looked at each other, then at me. The old guy nodded at the younger man, and they each pulled out sheathed daggers and set them on the indicated table.
I shut the door behind them, finally letting them see my own blade.
“Let’s sit and talk,” I said, pointing at the suite’s dining table. The two men sat down, their hands on top of the table, making a show of being inoffensive. I sat across from them, Stabby Jr on the table right in front of me.
“Let’s make some things clear,” I said. “I can see that you two are Night Children. Night Children business is my business, not Emmy’s. If you want to talk about how us being here in Japan is a problem for you, you tell me, not Emmy. If you want to discuss any sort of Night Child politics, it’s me you need to talk to.”
After some translation and back and forth between the two men, the younger guy asked, “You say ‘Night Children’. Do you mean,” and here he said something in Japanese.
“Night Children. People like us,” I said, wiping a fingertip across my cheek and then rubbing it with my thumb as if I’d just wiped makeup off.
“But you are not like us,” the younger guy protested.
“My mother was not blessed by the night, but I am like you,” I said. Hey, might as well lean into what everybody thought anyway, right?
“That is forbidden,” the young guy objected.
I looked at the two for a long moment, then said, “I think that we are running into some cultural differences here. Let me explain what I think is going on, and then you tell me what you think is happening. Maybe we can come to some understanding.”
When the young guy translated for his grandfather, the old guy nodded in agreement. The two talked back and forth for a while before the young guy said, “That might be best.”
“Look. It’s obvious to me that you two are wearing makeup to hide your true skin color. Underneath your disguises you’re as black as the blade of my dagger here.” The young guy nodded, so I continued.
“This means you’re Children of the Night. Night Children. Any babies born by your women are also as black as you are. Are we on the same page?” I asked.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“We have never heard the term ‘Night Children’ before, but as my grandfather said, it is a poetic thing to call us. We are, as you say, using disguises to hide our true skin color.”
“And you wanted to meet Emmy to see if she was like you,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Right. Well, she is,” I confirmed.
“But her hair,” young guy objected.
“Her hair is like that because she’s moon-kissed,” I explained. “That is really the color of her hair.”
After another round of translation and back and forth between the two men, the young guy said, “We have never heard of this ‘moon-kissed’ before.”
I will admit this floored me, leading me to doubt for just a tiny moment whether they actually were Night Children. The black edges of their eyelids and up in their nostrils were a dead giveaway, though, and they’d already admitted that they were covering up their jet-black skins.
“What do you call it when a child is born with light eyes and white hair?” I asked.
“That has never happened,” the young guy said, without bothering to check with his grandfather.
“Interesting…” I said. “I’m starting to think that you guys here in Japan might have been isolated from the rest of us for a very, very long time.”
The two men talked quite a bit before the younger guy finally said to me, “We had no idea there were others like us outside of Japan.”
“Hold on a moment,” I said, taking my phone out of my pocket. I quickly shot Grant a text telling him to stash Emmy and Angela in his room and bring Tiny to ours when they got back to the hotel. He’d understand the implications.
After that, I opened the photos app and scrolled through to find pictures of Night Children. “Here are some friends of ours,” I said, showing the two men some pictures of Michael and Jassie at dinner at an Indian restaurant in San Jose. “You can see they wear no makeup.”
I took the phone back and found a picture of Donny, holding Aaron in one arm, the other around Sana’s shoulders.
“He is the father of the child?” Younger Guy asked, pointing at Donny.
I nodded, then found another picture of Michael with Eddie and a few of the other outreach guys. After that, I showed them a picture of Emmy posing with her parents in Paris.
The two men were talking, their tones low and serious. Finally, Younger Guy said, “You have given us much to think about.”
“Now it’s your turn,” I said. “Tell me about your people, and let’s try to figure out why you’ve been cut off from the rest of us.”
They had a long back and forth before the young guy finally said, “We are very private people. We do not share information with outsiders.”
“Look- you came here to see if Emmy was really like you, right? I can tell you that she is. Not only her, but many thousands of Night Children live in Europe, the Near East and Northern Africa, as well as North and South America. You’ve never seen any examples before Emmy, because, like you, historically we have also hidden.” I looked them each in the eyes, trying to make it clear I was being very serious. “But the time for hiding is past. It is time we come out and into the sunlight, and show the world who we really are.”
The young guy was about to speak, but I interrupted. “Staying hidden is nearly impossible now, and soon, there will be no way at all for us to remain unknown. The world is ready to accept us now- just look at the fame that Emmy has achieved. Look at all those girls downstairs, who admire her and want to look and dress like her. Emmy has opened the door for our people- it’s time for us to follow her.”
The young guy explained what I’d just said and the two argued for quite a long time. “It is easy for you, since you do not bear the mark of the night,” the young guy said. “You can live in outside society without fear.”
“That’s true,” I said. “But I do not let my people hide, either, and now that they’ve become used to showing their skin, they would not go back into hiding if they had a choice.”
“You do not let them?”
“I’m the queen of the North American nation of our people,” I said. “Me. I tell them what to do, and they do what I tell them.”
A long conversation between the two was interrupted by the sound of the electronic lock and the suite’s door opening. Grant and Tiny moved quickly into the room, immediately focusing on the two men, who started to rise from their seats.
I indicated that they should remain seated, and they did, but they couldn’t take their eyes off of Jeremy.
“Sitrep?” Grant asked.
“These two gentlemen represent the local Night Children,” I said. “They came to see if Emmy really was like them.”
“Assessment?”
“Probably harmless,” I replied. “And this may present an incredible opportunity.”
Grant visibly relaxed. “But your weapon is still on display.”
“I felt it was necessary to keep it handy, just to let them know that violence would be met with force,” I replied. “But it looks as if we’re past that now.”
Grant nodded his understanding. He indicated the suite’s couch to Jeremy, who sat down, but remained alert. Grant stayed on his feet, a respectful distance back.
“You know what? Jeremy, could you please clean your face, then have a seat with us?” I said.
“As you can see, Jeremy is also a Night Child, but he’s wearing makeup now, like you two are. The reason for this is not to hide his nature- it’s to hide his identity. You’ve seen the girls outside the hotel, right?” I asked, and the young guy nodded that they had. “Emmy has had to wear a disguise to get away from her crazy fans, and Jeremy had to as well. Back home in the US neither of them wear makeup. In fact, I would be very angry if Jeremy ever did disguise his true nature under normal circumstances. But here, with those crazy girls outside, well…”
“I see,” the young guy said. “You say that the disguise is not to hide what he is, but who he is.”
“Exactly. Since they would know he’s Emmy’s bodyguard, they would know she was near.”
The two men spoke for a long time, only stopping when Tiny came back into the room, now devoid of his false coloring. He was again as black as night, and the two men stared long and hard at him as he sat down with us. This prompted another heated discussion between the two men.
“Look,” I said, interrupting. “Do your people have some sort of king or something? I’d like to speak with them.”
“We have a… council of elders,” the young guy said, after translating my question. “Grandfather was sent by them to meet Emmy.”
“We’re going to be here for a few more days. Why don’t you get in touch with this council and tell them that the queen of the North American Night Children wants to speak with them? I’ll give you my phone number and you can call me when it has been arranged,” I said, standing up.
Looking at each other, the two men stood. I gestured towards the door, and they got the hint. I grabbed a notepad from next to the room’s landline phone and quickly wrote my number down, including country code. I handed the note to the older man as they collected their own daggers from the table near the door.
“Do not come here to our hotel room again uninvited. To do so a second time would be a sign of hostility. Do you understand?” I asked.
“Yes,” the younger guy agreed as the two men left. Grant followed them out to make sure they left the hotel.
“Thanks, Jeremy,” I said to the large bodyguard. “Keep an eye out for those two. If you see them anywhere around, immediately let Grant and me know.”
“I understand,” he replied.
“I think you can bring Emmy and Angela here now,” I told him. “I don’t think we’ll be stepping outside the hotel tonight.”
Jenna called just as Jeremy led Emmy and Angela back to our suite. She told Angela they were just checking in and asked what room we were in. This completely derailed any discussion we might have had about the local Night Children, so I just told Emmy that I would explain everything later and it might all be under control.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“No,” I answered honestly. “But maybe.”
Just a few minutes later Andy and Jenna made their way to our suite. Jenna took longer than Andy did to recognize Emmy in her pink-haired, pale-skinned disguise.
“Oh. My. God!” she squealed when she finally realized that the stranger in our midst wasn’t a stranger at all. “Look at you! I never would have recognized you like that!”
“That’s the idea,” Angela said. “You saw the fans outside the hotel, right? We had to hide Emmy from them just to go out in public.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Andy said. “It was pretty crazy down there.”
Once Emmy washed the makeup off her face we all just chatted for a while, Jenna and Andy telling us about the places they’d seen so far in their trip to Japan. All in all they were going to spend two full weeks in-country, and had been enjoying their vacation quite a bit.
When Angela explained that she and Emmy wanted to go shopping the next day, Jenna immediately signed on. When Angela brought up the street that had nothing but cookware shops, she was ready to head out the door immediately.
“Wanna skip that?” I asked Andy in a low voice.
“Oh, Hell yeah!” he agreed, so we made plans for the two of us to see the Imperial Palace while the girls went shopping. I explained to him that the hotel was providing a driver and translator for us, so the girls would have no problems without us.
“Yeah, I’ve been doing the translating for Jenna,” Andy said. “I thought my Japanese was pretty good, but when I’m trying to understand echoey train announcements and stressed about making the right connections, well, that’s when I realized it’s not so good as I thought.”
“I can relate,” I agreed. “Paris was like that for me. I mean, I could read signs O.K. and I could order food at a restaurant and stuff like that, but when I had to hold a conversation or something it was a challenge.”
“There’s something else kinda funny going on. I have to repeat myself like three or four times until the person I’m speaking to actually realizes I’m speaking Japanese and they can understand me. It’s like they look at me and see this big foreigner making weird sounds, you know? They’re not expecting me to speak Japanese, so they don’t actually hear it at first.”
“Well, to be fair, I wouldn’t look at you and immediately assume you could speak Japanese,” I said with a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Jenna demanded, turning away from their conversation.
“The fact that Andy has to repeat himself over and over until people realize he’s actually speaking Japanese,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, that,” Jenna said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a real pain in the ass.”
We wound up ordering room service for the five of us and just hung out for the rest of the night, catching up and enjoying each others’ company. We talked about how the tour has been going, what Australia was like, and Jenna’s new car. Of course they knew all about the double pregnancy, so Jenna was fascinated when Angela told her that she thought she could feel the baby moving, but not really kicking just yet.
When Jenna and Andy finally left to go to their own room, Emmy and Angela took a long, hot (well, not Emmy-level hot, but normal person hot) bath while I showered. In bed afterwards, I scolded Angela for not telling me she could feel Angela Jr moving.
“It’s strange,” she said. “I think it’s the baby moving, but I’m not really sure. It isn’t like I imagined. It feels more like… I hate to say it, but maybe an upset stomach? But just for a moment every now and then. I think it’s the baby moving, but…”
“This sounds as if it is a question to ask Mamá,” Emmy said, giving Angela’s bare shoulder a kiss. “She would know.”
“I should,” Angela agreed. “It seems hard to believe we’ll be seeing mis papís in only a week,” she said.
“I am looking forward to seeing them,” Emmy said. “I am very happy they will be able to spend time with us.”
“Is Cecy coming, too?” I asked.
“Of course,” Angela said as if it was a silly question. “You know she has a crush on you, right? Any opportunity to spend time with you…”
“I cannot blame her,” Emmy said with a little laugh.
“No, it’s true,” Angela greed. “Lee is very lovable.”