Shaker (Censored Version)

Hey! Yoshi here. This novel is called Shaker, a mixup in 24 hours. I was kind of forced to do this thanks to my English teacher, but I had fun doing it. This is only the censored version, though. In order to comply with the Club Penguin Shops' policies, all mild language has been replaced with even more mild language. If you want the uncensored version, please visit this page. Enjoy!

Foreword
On March 11, 2011, a magnitude 9.0 earthquake shook up Japan. This caused a massive tsunami to occur, killing thousands of innocent people in the process. On top of that, the Fukushima nuclear blowout occurred due to the earthquake. The 2011 earthquake in Japan was a serious event, and it is certainly not an event to make fun of. It is, however, an excellent base for a novel.

This novel is not intended to poke fun of this event. This novel is intended to show readers what people had to go through after the earthquake happened. Some passengers in Tokyo’s Narita International Airport were stranded for days, trying to find a flight out. It was a horrible time for those who were about to go on a vacation, go home, or even those who had another emergency to deal with.

A disaster can happen at any moment, and they can even happen during the most inconvenient times. After you read this novel, ask yourself, what would you do? This is an excellent time to reflect and learn something new.

Chapter One - Customs and Security
“Have a nice day!” yelled the flight attendant.

“You too!” I replied to the flight attendant. I’m finally at Tokyo! My flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo was an hour late, and I was finally here. Apparently, they were having trouble with the catering, so the flight didn’t have a snack service before we landed. Next stop, Hong Kong. If I don’t make my flight, I’m screwed. The SoCal Technology Institution is requiring me to be an intern for a tech company. My company was HK Tech. I was going to be an intern at Apple, but the college provided my airfare, so here I am!

I was on the escalators down to customs when my phone rang. It was a black iPhone 4, the latest and greatest iPhone from Apple. My parents gave me this phone along with a second generation MacBook Air and an AirPort Express as a college gift. For years, I have wanted something made by Apple, and I was really, really happy.

“(Hello? Jeff?)” asked my mom in Mandarin.

“(Mommy, I’m at Tokyo safe and sound. No need to worry.)”

“(I’m just making sure, okay? Mommy loves you.  Where are you?  I just need to know!)”

“(Customs, Mommy. I need you to hang up.)”  I hung up and continued to proceed to immigration.

The immigration area at Narita Airport is not the most inviting place in the world. The ceiling is low and it is starting to show its age. The hallways were narrow and the walls were white and had some posters on them. I believe that they were advertising Japan Airlines or Blossom International. Since I have never been to Japan before, I needed some help navigating the immigration area.

“Sir, could you help me?”

“Yes,” replied a security person. “Are you foreign?”

“I’m from the United States.”

“Good. Go to line say foreign. Have passport and form out.”

“I’m sorry? I having some difficulty understanding your English.”

“Ugh!” yelled the security person. He said that ugh in such a stern way, and some other people were looking at him. I would have never expected this from the Japanese people. The security person pointed towards a crowded line with people from many races, but I mostly saw Chinese people.

“Okay, thanks!”

For some reason, the line for immigration did not move much. It might have moved an inch every minute, which, for me, seems a bit inefficient. To make up for the time, I put on my iPhone’s Mophie juice pack and started playing some Angry Birds.

As soon as I was at the front of the line, I could see why the line was so slow. Only a few people were staffed, and some Chinese people were having trouble passing through security. I heard a Chinese man and an immigrations officer fighting, which didn’t look very inviting.

Finally, it was my turn. The immigration officer seemed young. He was certainly Asian, but I was not sure if he was Japanese or not. The first thing he said was, “Passport.”

I handed him my passport and all of my completed forums, but the handed the forums back to me. “No,” he said. “Wait until I done passport.” He was looking at my passport, and he handed the passport back to me. “Now give me paper.”

I gave the immigrations man the forums with hesitation. The immigrations man didn’t seem like he wanted to be at work! After that was over, I proceeded to go down the escalators to the baggage claim area.

There were several baggage carousels lined up. Alarm bells were ringing, the carousels were spinning, and passengers were grabbing their checked baggage. My dad once said that checked baggage was lost baggage, so I only had carry-on with me.

The next stop was customs. There were two different types of lines. One group of lines said “Items to Declare” while the other group of lines said “No Items to Declare”. I had no fruits, vegetables, meats, or animals with me, so I proceeded to go to the “No Items to Declare” lines.

“Do you have declare form?” asked the customs person.

“Yes, but I have nothing to declare, sir,” I replied.

“Okay. Give me form and bag. I check bag for illegal item.” He took my form and my luggage. Then, he opened up my luggage and carefully checked all the items. “No suspicion. Go ahead.”

“Thank you. Have a nice day!” The customs person didn’t reply.

After this, I was at the arrivals hall. The arrivals hall was filled with various passengers. Some passengers were at the currency exchange while others were exiting through the sliding doors. There was a counter for ABA Airlines in the arrivals hall, so I decided to get some information regarding my flight to Hong Kong.

The counter was pretty standard. There was a metal desk with a heavy looking slab. On the back, there was the familiar red ABA logo, along with what I think is a silhouette of Tokyo. The customer service lady was typing some stuff on the computer. Then, she faced me and started talking.

“Hi! This is the ABA Airlines customer service desk. How may I help you?” I was actually surprised! Although the customer service lady was Japanese, she was quite fluent in English. It’s a nice change from those confusing immigration workers.

“My name is Jeffrey Ng, and I want some information regarding ABA 763 to Hong Kong.”

“All right, sir. May I see your boarding pass?” I handed her my boarding pass from my flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo. It was a bit folded, which was expected. However, the barcode was still readable.

“Let me see…” The customer service lady scanned my boarding pass and typed some things. “ABA flight 763 will be leaving at 14:13. It is currently 13:45. I’m not sure if you will be able to make this flight, honestly.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. The line for security during this time can be pretty long, and it’s a hike from the security checkpoint to Gate 43, the assigned gate for ABA flight 763. However, there is still a very slim chance that you will make the flight!”

This got me thinking. Do I want to attempt to make my flight on time, or do I want to just be on another flight later today? Well, the sooner the better, so the former was ideal to me. After all, layovers aren’t really that great.

“I will try to make my flight.”

“Great idea. Good luck!”

With that, I took an elevator to the departures area and ran as fast as I could to the security checkpoint. Despite what the customer service lady said, the line for security wasn’t really that long. It was about ten to fifteen minutes long. I was greeted by a security worker that was Japanese, but he was actually happy to be working.

“Good afternoon, sir! May I see your boarding pass?”

“Here you go.” I handed him my boarding pass.

“Okay, you’re all good!”

Next stop was the buckets. Like the TSA back in America, all liquids must not exceed one liter. I put my iPhone, my MacBook Air, and my liquids in one of the grey buckets. I packed my bags days ago, so the liquids were still in that same bag. That was all I needed to do!

“Go through here,” gestured a security person. I walked through the metal detectors. There was no alarm or anything like that, so I was all good. I picked up my Kirkland Signature luggage, my Jansport backpack, my personal items, and packed up.

Right after the security checkpoint, I encountered Shopping Row. There were some luxury shops like Coach and Louis Vuitton, a duty free shop, and a few restaurants. It seems like the Japanese really like shopping. It took me five minutes just to walk from security to the departures hall!

Then, there was another problem. My assigned gate was the furthest away from the center of the terminal. Like what the customer service lady said, this was a hike. The walk took another five minutes. There were some moving walkways this time, which helped a little bit. Like the immigrations area, the departures hall had a low roof, which wasn’t really inviting.

Finally, I made it to the gate. Although the plane, an ABA Boeing 767, was still at the gate, the door was closed. I wanted to have a talk with the gate agent. With her blonde hair and blue eyes, I knew that she was American.

“Hi! How may I help you?” asked the gate agent.

“I’m on ABA flight 763 to Hong Kong.”

“Sir, the door is closed. You cannot get in the aircraft.”

“Listen. The plane is still at the gate, and I should be able to get-

“Sir, I really don’t want to say this, but please, shut up!”

“That was rude!”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t like arguing with passengers. If you want, I can put you on standby for another flight today. Is that fine with you?”

“That’s great,” I replied. “My name is Jeffrey Ng.”

“Jeffrey Ng. All right, then. There’s another flight to Hong Kong later today. It’s ABA flight 425. I’ll put you on standby. Please note that, since you are on standby, you may not be able to get on the next flight.”

“Why?”

“Standby passengers are those who are not paying for the flight, so we want all of our paying passengers to get on the flight first. Then, we’ll call all standby passengers.”

“That’s fine.”

“Here’s your new boarding pass. The gate for flight 425 is gate 31, which is located near all the shops. The flight is set to depart at 17:26.”

“Thank you so much!”

“Have a nice day!”

Chapter Two - Matcha Noodle
The next flight from Tokyo to Hong Kong wasn’t until around 5:30. That was too short of a layover to go to the city, and that was too long of a layover to just wait until the flight. Due to my flight’s catering problems, nobody on the flight from Los Angeles to Tokyo received a snack before landing, so I was a bit hungry. Nearby my gate, there was Shopping Row smack dab in my view. I saw a few restaurants earlier, so I wanted to check out all of the shops in more detail and see if there’s any good restaurants.

Shopping Row is self explanatory. It’s a row of shops. None of the airports that I have been to in America have a large selection of shops all in one place, so this was quite a change. I finally was able to look at the shops at more detail. There were some luxury shops like Louis Vuitton and Coach, quick eats restaurants like McDonald’s and the ubiquitous Starbucks, and some shops I have never heard of before like Daiso Japan. I didn’t want to eat at an American place like McDonald’s, and I don’t want to eat at a fancy restaurant like the “Luxury Sushi House” I saw.

Luckily for me, I stumbled upon a green facade. The sign said “Matcha Noodle”. This rang a bell. I remembered going to their Portland restaurant when I was a kid! I loved their dumplings and ramen noodles. There was also a Matcha Noodle restaurant nearby my dorm in Los Angeles, but I have yet to eat there. I haven’t eaten at Matcha Noodle in a while, so I simply walked in. The prices were fair, with bowls starting at 1,000¥, which is equivalent to around ten US dollars. This was a steal to me.

Inside, a smiling Japanese man in a casual green shirt greeted me. The shirt had Matcha Noodle’s logo, which was a bowl of noodles and “Matcha Noodle” in a clean looking font. “Welcome to Matcha Noodle! How many people are in your party, sir?”

“Just me.”

“All right! Here’s your menu. I will guide you to your table.” He seemed like a very polite person who loved his job.

This particular restaurant was not the biggest restaurant I’ve been to. There are only around thirty tables available, and each and every one of them was full. The chairs were either a forest green or a light green, and the tables were a simple white color. The floors consisted of a light wood. It was obvious that this was only a casual restaurant. However, there was a nice window that overlooked the planes, which was a nice bonus.

“Here is an airplane view table, sir. If you are ready to order, press the big green button. Have a nice day!” With that, he left and went back to his stand, waiting for more customers in the crowded restaurant. The chairs were made of plastic, but they are still just fine. The condiments that were available were soy sauce, tempura sauce, different types of vinegar, chopsticks, napkins, the usual salt and pepper shakers, and even some other spices.

The menu had lots of nice items. The menu contained Japanese, Chinese, and then English words, which was a bunch of different languages. There were the standard Japanese foods like ramen, udon, mochi, tempura, and even sushi. There were also some quick bento boxes as well. However, teriyaki chicken was nowhere to be seen on this menu! Was this dish not authentic? There were also some items that were strange to me like natto, which was some sort of bean dish. The menu said that it was “popular in Kanto”, so if it’s popular in Tokyo and the rest of the Kanto region, of course I want to try it!

I decided to order a “Make your Own Bento”, which included tempura, natto with white rice, and yakitori, which are Japanese grilled chicken skewers. This seemed like a tasty combination of foods, and I was excited to try this mysterious natto dish. After I knew what I wanted, I pushed the big green button. A young Japanese lady soon approached me and started speaking Chinese, which is a great assumption.

“(Sir, are you ready to order your food?)”

“(Yes I am. I would like to have a Make your Own Bento.)"

“(What items would you like?)”

“(Tempura, natto, and yakitori, please.)”

“(Sounds great! Is there anything else you want?)”

“(One Coke, please?)” I needed a Coke so that I could get over jet lag.

“(All right!)” The lady left, and she proceeded to go to the kitchen. I decided to check out MacRumors, which was my favorite website for everything about Apple. There was a story regarding the new iPad 2, which would be released today. However, since I was in Japan, this wasn’t entirely accurate. It was only March 10th in the U.S. As I was reading the article, the man who greeted me just a few minutes ago came back.

“Sir, is it okay if this lady sits at your table? Our restaurant is full, and no one else was kind enough to allow her to sit.” I was hesitant for a while, but I remembered that it was nice to do something good every once in a while. Good first impressions lead to a better time, so this was an easy decision.

“Of course!”

“Thank you so much, sir.” The man talked to the lady in Japanese. After that, he left, and the young lady took a seat. She was sporting a white dress with various Mickeys around it. This screamed “Disney fan”. She had a slim body, some small earrings, and brown eyes. Her luggage was white in color, and it had a plastic shell. I wanted to ask her some questions.

“What’s your name?”

“Chikako,” she replied.

“Chicago?” I asked with hesitation.

“No. Shee-Ka-Ko.”

“Ah, okay.” That has got to be one of the strangest names that I have encountered. “Where are you going to?”

“America.”

“What part of America? New York? Florida?”

“I go to Florida and Epcot in Disney World. I’m part of Culture Represent Program. I visit Epcot one year.”

“Wow, that sounds pretty darn cool! What are you going to do at Epcot? Will you be greeting people? Will you share your Japanese heritage?”

“I am cook at Epcot. I make noodle for guest.”

“Chef, eh? What kind of foods do you specialize in?”

“Ramen noodles. They are good and delicious. What is your name?”

“Jeffrey, but you can call me Jeff.”

“That’s good name.” After saying that sentence, she pressed the green button. A waitress appeared and took Chikako’s order. I have no idea what they were talking about, but I heard the word ramen.

Soon after that, my bento box arrived, along with my Coke. The waitress this time had a traditional Japanese dress, with a very dark green base and scattered cherry blossoms. I guess that they want to keep the “matcha” theme. “Custom ramen box for you, sir.”

“Thank you!” The tempura looked nice and crisp and my chicken skewers were simply mouth watering. They had beautiful grill markings. However, my natto and rice didn’t look very pleasing, and that is coming from a Chinese person. It looks sticky, slimy, and it’s just not appetizing. I’m guessing that the garnish of what looked liked green onions looked better, but don’t quote me on that.

“Natto!” exclaimed Chikako. “It good for health. It also taste good.”

I wasn’t sure if I could trust her remarks. However, I tried some natto, anyways. When I grabbed some of the beans with my chopsticks, there was a very slimy texture. I gave it a sniff, and it doesn’t smell good. I took a bite.

“Oh, crap. Damn!” It was bitter and rotten. Natto isn’t the tasty and savory dish that I expected. It wasn’t all that great. I sipped some of my Coke, which helped cleanse my mouth a little bit. How was this “popular in Kanto”?

“You don’t like natto?” asked Chikako. “It’s good!” She grabbed her pair of chopsticks and grabbed some beans. “This actually nice!”

“Perhaps it’s because I’m too used to American cuisine?” After I said that, another waiter came to our table. She said some words in Japanese before handing the bowl of ramen noodles to Chikako.

“Ramen makes me happy. I love mom’s Matcha Noodle.”

“Your mom owns a Matcha Noodle franchise?”

“Yes. Matcha Noodle in rural area.”

Chapter Three - Get Down
All of a sudden, there was a slight vibration. No worries. I thought it was just the planes. Then, as they slowly got more powerful, I had second thoughts. This wasn’t a plane, I thought. The sauces in the sauce bottles were moving like ocean waves. I had no idea what was going on. I looked around, and some passengers were also confused. The waiters and waitresses were doing there job as usual.

“Chikako, do you know what’s happening right now?”

“Might be earthquake. It okay. Happen often. No worries.”

“But I need to finish my ben-”

“Get down! Under table!” I took her command and went under the table. I had my hands on my luggage and the leg of the table. By then, the shaking was quite obvious! There was lots of banging, some of the plates and bowls were falling, and I even heard a baby crying.

“Does this usually happen in Tokyo?”

“No! Earthquake usually very mild!”

From under the table, I could see the waiters and waitresses trying to assist the guests. They seemed calm, but I believe that they were quite shocked. Then, a box came down. It was my bento, on the floor and contaminated.

“Darn! My bento!”

After that, Chikako’s bowl of soup came crashing down. Ramen noodles now littered the floor, and there was a puddle of soup.

“My ramen! I didn’t eat it!”

“What’s so special about your bowl of ramen noodles?”

“What special about you bento?”

Then, a few minutes later, the shaking calmed down a little bit. As suddenly as the quake began, it suddenly stopped. That earthquake only lasted a few minutes, but it seemed like it took forever.

“Attention guests!” yelled the male waiter. “We have just experienced an earthquake. Please stay inside the restaurant until further instructions are given. Please remain calm!” Another waiter yelled a message in Japanese. I think that the Japanese waiter yelled a similar message about the recent earthquake.

I looked up and surveyed the area. A lot of the tables shifted from their original position. Most of the posters were still in their original position, but the same can’t be said about the plates, bowls, and silverware. Crumbled pieces from the ceiling were scattered in several places. When I looked out the window, I could see all of the planes, but they were not moving. The luggage carts and tugs were also abandoned. Everything came to a pause. Then, I heard the intercom. At first, a pre-recorded message in Japanese was heard. Then, there was another message in English.

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for choosing Narita International Airport. We have experienced an earthquake. Please, stay inside of the terminal. Do not use any mobile devices unless it’s for an emergency. Narita International Airport is designed with earthquakes in mind. Please be aware that all passengers will be safe. Thank you for your attention.”

After that, the waiters and waitresses of Matcha Noodle allowed everyone to leave the restaurant. The alarm bells also started ringing. “Where do you want to go now?” I asked.

“Departures,” Chikako replied.

And so we left. Some passengers were heading towards the security checkpoint. However, a Japanese security person said otherwise, I believe. Some of the shop tenders at Shopping Row were busy putting items back on the shelves. Fine wines from the duty free shop fell down and various produce from a mini supermarket were rolling on the floor. The lights were still functional and the signs were still in place. Plus, it still smelled relatively “fresh”.

After a hike, Chikako and I made it to the departures hall. The moving walkways were now non-moving walkways. The arrivals/departures screens were now black and were not functioning. I believed that the computer systems were disabled. Some passengers were close to the walls, confused and clueless. I saw a few passengers using their phones to try and contact their family. Several of them were lined up at a store with nothing but vending machines. I saw a few of them get water and a few others get instant noodles and other snacks.

“Let stay here,” ordered Chikako, pointing at a gate area. This gate was assigned to Japan Airlines, and there was a Boeing 777 still parked outside. Most of the passengers at this particular gate area were still huddled against the walls, but some were casually sitting down. Since the walls were way too crowded, sitting down was the only thing that we were able to do. Both of us tried to relax like everyone else. There was basically nothing that we could do at the moment. All we could do was to wait.

At this time, I wanted to call my parents and inform them about the earthquake. However, when I tried to place a call, it wouldn’t work. I assumed that either the phone lines were clogged up or they were simply not working. No worries. Using an app that I have created myself (as a college project) and my AirPort Express, I was able to message my parents, anyways. There were plenty of power ports at the gate area, so I had no problem with setting up the hotspot. Since my parents don’t know much English, I used Apple’s built in Chinese keyboard.

NgChat beta build 034

Danxin Lee - (Jeff, while I was watching TVB News, I heard about an earthquake in Japan. Are you all right?)

Jeff Ng - (Mommy, I’m fine.)

Danxin Lee - (Are you sure? You’re not hurt?  Oh, I’m so worried, baby!)

Jeff Ng - (Mommy, I said that I was okay! You worry too much.)

Danxin Lee - (How dare you say that to your mother!)

Jeff Ng - (You have to realize that I’m an adult now! You just have to stop treating me like a baby.  Gosh.)

Danxin Lee - (Okay! Just tell me more information!  I’m about to go to sleep, okay?)

I simply didn’t want to talk with my mom anymore, so I closed the app. I also wanted to contact HK Tech and inform them that I may be late, but since I was unable to call anyone, I couldn’t contact the company. Steve Jobs once said that dropped calls was the result of “holding the iPhone the wrong way”, so I decided to call the company on speakerphone. I only placed my iPhone face up on the ground. Guess what? There was a dropped call!

“What are you doing?” asked Chikako.

“I’m trying to contact HK Tech and tell them that I might not make it, but all of my attempts are failing. Wait. It says No Signal on the phone.”

“I see.”

“Anyways, how often do earthquakes occur in Tokyo?”

“Many earthquake in a year. Very, very often. But never this big.”

“I live in California, but I have never experienced a major earthquake.”

“Okay. Jeff, why you not fat?

“Fat? What do you mean?”

“I hear that all American are fat.”

“No, that’s just a stereotype. Although a lot of Americans are obese, not all of them are big and fat.

“Right. And do you have gun?”

“No, of course not! Guns are very dangerous, and I’m probably too young to even own one. Are you stereotyping Americans again?”

“Huh?” After Chikako said that, I felt a little bit of shaking. I immediately thought to myself that this was an aftershock.

“Is this another earthquake?”

“Yes!”

The space under the seats at the gate area was not much, so I decided to kneel down beside the chairs. Those that were by the walls remained there. While looking around, I saw some signs swinging like swings in a playground, and there was a rumbling sound. Although the sound wasn’t as loud as from just a few minutes ago, it was still pretty prominent.

The first aftershock was a lot shorter than the initial earthquake. It also seemed less powerful. However, the aftershock was still a bit intense. Some babies were crying and even more passengers were now confused. What were we going to do now?

Chapter Four - Tarmac
to be updated soon