Clark and Division

by Naomi Hirahara

  I wandered around the edges of the dance floor, trying to spot that head of thick oiled hair. Instead I ran into Harriet, standing with the hakujin man with the wire-rimmed spectacles. He, like Harriet, seemed surprised to see what I was wearing. This was getting ridiculous.

  I went straight to him, putting my hand out as if I were pursuing a business transaction. “I’m Aki Ito,” I introduced myself. “You were at my sister’s funeral. And I saw you at Bughouse Square the other day. You sure like to write things down in your notebook.”

  Harriet had no choice but to play the diplomat. “Ah, Aki, this is Douglas Reilly. He’s an anthropologist employed by the War Relocation Authority.”

  His handshake was a bit torturous, too sweaty and too long. “I’m sorry that I seem so obtrusive,” he said. “My job is to observe and make reports. It may seem that I’ve been in a lot of places that you have, too, but rest assured, I’m not following you.”

  “We work together in the WRA office.” Harriet attempted to explain their connection, but I was getting the feeling that their relationship went beyond the office.

  “I would like to interview you sometime,” he said to me.

  “What about?”

  “Moving to Chicago from Manzanar. How it’s been for your family.”

  “I don’t think that our story would be of any interest to the government.” I was loath to explore Rose’s death and its impact on the three of us. We were a house divided right now, hurting and confused. Why would I want to talk about that, especially to a bureaucrat?

  “Douglas is doing it to help us. To guide resettlement policy in the future.”

  I didn’t care about policy or the future. All I cared about was now and how we could keep our heads above water. I declined the interview as politely as possible, but before I left their presence, Harriet attempted a cheery smile. “I’ll talk to you back at the apartments,” she said.

  I was so irritated by the encounter that I almost crashed into someone. “Hello.” The voice I remembered, but he appeared very different. Instead of a sweat-soaked undershirt, Art was wearing a crisp white shirt, a gray suit and a maroon tie with two black stripes across its center. As soon as I recognized him, my whole body started pulsating.

  “Hello.”

  “I didn’t know that you were going to be here,” he said.

  “I didn’t know that you were going to be here,” I replied, and we both laughed. We sounded like idiots.

  “I guess it never came up.”

  “Do you come here every weekend?” I pressed on the sides of my face, hoping that beads of sweat wouldn’t appear on my hairline and ruin my makeup.

  “Nah, I haven’t been in a long time. I guess it’s my lucky night.”

  I was struck by his last comment. Was he flirting with me? I wasn’t used to hearing such talk and let it sink in before murmuring a response. “My first,” I said.

  “What?” It was hard to compete with the din of the lousy music and the sound of hard heels hitting the wooden floor.

  “My first time,” I repeated, louder.

  A low yell shook the ballroom. As if pulled by a giant magnet, the crowd moved to the door. Everyone seemed to have lost interest in dancing in favor of gawking at an unexpected occurrence.

  “What is going on?” Art asked a couple of guys who were rushing toward the action.

  “It’s the yogores again,” someone answered.

  “What?” I interjected.

  “Hammer Ishimine. He’s going at it with Roy Tonai.”

  There could be only one Hammer. Without explaining anything to Art, I ran into the eye of the crowd, pushing lookie-loos aside to find the source of the hubbub.

  By the time I reached the center, the scuffle was in full force, a flash of mustard yellow, thuds of fists and hoots from the boys in the crowd. Older men ran in to break up the fight. Roy finally emerged, his nose and lip bloody and his right ear swollen. Hammer’s face, on the other hand, was undamaged, but the collar of his zoot suit was completely mangled. In a protective stance was his ever-faithful companion, Manju.

  An older mustached man in his thirties pointed a finger at the zoot suiter. “That’s it, Hammer. You’re not allowed at any of our events in the future.”

  “Ah, who the hell cares? These dances are chicken shit, anyway.” He then noticed me standing there in the circle. “Hey, Tropico, let’s get out of here.”

  How dare he address me like I was his girl? I didn’t move or say anything.

  Hammer howled as if it was all a joke and strutted out of the Aragon with Manju at his side.

  I went over to Roy, who was spitting out a tooth. Luckily it wasn’t a front one. I handed him a handkerchief that I had stuck in the pocket of the dress.

  “Tonai, you’ll have to go, too,” the Kalifornian told him.

  “I was defending myself.”

  “Heard that you’re just as much to blame as Hammer.”

  By this time, Ike had found us and examined Roy’s lip. “C’mon, let’s go. You’re going to need some stitches.”

  Without thinking, I went with them, momentarily forgetting about Art. I wanted to run back and convey a proper goodbye, but it was all too late for that.

  Chapter 11

  There are nights when I miss my parents and Aki. And our dog, Rusty. Rusty was more Aki’s dog than anyone else’s. But when Aki wasn’t around, he would stick close to me.

  The mood in the crowded Oldsmobile was much more somber than on the way over. Kathryn, for some reason, seemed the most distressed. She kept sighing and making popping sounds with her lips. I didn’t know her well enough to ask her to stop.

  We were all disappointed in Roy. Roy, who had bloodied what I realized now was my favorite handkerchief, was dead silent, failing to explain or justify his conduct. He didn’t even have the decency to apologize for creating such a spectacle and cutting our evening short. All of us in his company were now tainted as troublemakers.

  We were a couple of blocks away from Clark and Division when Chiyo piped up, “You can drop Aki off first.”

  Ike signaled that he was going to change lanes, but I stopped him.

  “Keep going,” I said. “I went through nurse’s aide training at Manzanar. I can help you with stitching him up.”

  Ike found an open space at the curb in front of the girls’ apartment. Louise practically flew out of the back passenger’s side, faintly thanking Ike for the ride. Kathryn tried to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth except for another pop. Only Chiyo lingered in the back seat. “I can help, too, if you need it. I’ve slaughtered animals on the farm before so I’m not scared of blood.”

  Roy’s eyes widened and I had to stifle a giggle. Only Ike was the true gentleman, thanking Chiyo for her willingness to help but politely turning her down.

  She slid over to the open door. “Well, bye,” she said, and followed her roommates up the stoop steps.

  I was going to make a snide comment but thought better of it. So what if she had a crush on Ike? When it came to romance, Chiyo seemed a straightforward person. My mother would call her sunao, lacking in any pretense. Only when it came to Rose, Chiyo didn’t seem as forthcoming. At least Louise had shared some truth of what had been going on between the roommates.

  As we passed the Mark Twain Hotel, the same gigantic person wearing a fancy cocktail dress I had seen before jaywalked in front of us. Ike had to swerve to avoid hitting her, causing him to murmur a curse word.

  “I’ve seen her before,” I said.

  “Don’t you mean him?” Roy had found his voice, although his speech was a bit affected by his split lip.

  “What?”

  He lowered the soiled handkerchief. “Yes, that’s a man gussied up like a girl. There were even a few fellows like that in camp.”

  “No,” I said. I couldn’t imagine s
uch a thing in the Japanese community.

  “Yup.”

  “No, I can’t believe that.” Roy often played tricks on me, taking advantage of my gullibility.

  “Look, you were spending most of your time behind a counter issuing overcoats and blankets to people. I was walking around our whole block, delivering mail and doing business. I was walking in and out of barracks. A guy is going to see things.”

  “Like who? Do I know them?” I wanted evidence.

  Roy started to say something but then he stopped himself. “You know, Aki, sometimes you do remind me of Rose.” He didn’t say it as a compliment.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Rose was awful curious about things that were none of her business.”

  The admonishment stung.

  “You know that you’ve ruined my handkerchief,” I told him. “Rose gave me that handkerchief.”

  “Really?” he asked, his tone softening.

  She hadn’t, but I wanted to punish him, at least a little.

  Roy and Ike shared a unit in what was called a four-flat, essentially a fourplex, owned by Ike’s uncle. The uncle and aunt lived in two units on the left-hand side; I didn’t ask why a married couple resided in two separate apartments. A Chinese family lived below the boys’ apartment.

  The building was old but relatively kept up. The gray paint on the wood structure seemed to look uniform under the moonlight. They had left a table light on inside their apartment, which glowed through bars in an open window.

  Once we were inside, Ike turned on a standing antique light. The living room was well appointed with an Oriental rug on the hardwood floor, a fireplace, a couple of sitting chairs and a sofa with wooden feet shaped like bird talons. Their living room seemed absolutely normal, which made me feel both comforted and envious at the same time.

  Roy immediately collapsed onto the sofa, which was also adorned with two fat cushions. He laid his head on one of them, still clutching the handkerchief to his split lip.

  “I’ll get my bag,” Ike said, heading for one of the bedrooms. “I’ll have to sterilize my needle.”

  I stood awkwardly in the living room. “Do you need my help?”

  “No, no. Just keep the patient stabilized,” he called out. I could hear his footsteps going back and forth in various rooms. I finally sat in one of the chairs, feeling the breeze through the window.

  Roy was lying so still that I thought he may have fallen asleep.

  “Are you awake?” I asked.

  He moved his elbow and opened his eyes.

  “I saw Tomi today,” I said.

  “Where?”

  “I went to the house where she’s working.”

  “In Evanston?” He propped himself up on his elbows. “How the hell did you get over there?”

  I ignored his question. “What happened between her and Rose? And don’t say ‘nothing.’ Louise verified that they had a fight about something.”

  Roy tried to avoid giving me a straight response, but I persisted. I didn’t care that he was injured. In fact, I was committed to taking full advantage of his vulnerable physical state.

  “Rose never shied away from a fight, and once she got into one, she usually got her way pretty easily. This Tomi must be something else. I got a taste of her today, that’s for sure. Maybe I’ll go back to Evanston first thing tomorrow morning.”

  I finally wore Roy down.

  “Don’t go back,” he said. He lay back on the cushions and stared at the ceiling. “Rose thought that Tomi was certifiably nuts. You know, cuckoo-cuckoo. Camp and everything took a toll on her.”

  “She seems scared of something. You didn’t date her, did you?”

  “I went on one date. Nothing serious. We had dinner together. We didn’t click.”

  “Or maybe she didn’t click with you.”

  “I think that maybe her father had been a little rough on her. At least that’s what Rose told me. That I should lay off her. So I took Rose at her word. I left Tomi alone.”

  Rough on her? Did that mean the father abused her? My mouth went dry. Pop had treasured both Rose and me; I couldn’t imagine a father laying a hand on his own daughter. “She sure is beautiful.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Well, looks aren’t everything.” Roy glanced at me as if to say I was living proof of his statement.

  His comment stung and I quickly changed the subject. “Why were you fighting with Hammer tonight, anyway?”

  “That guy has had it out for me even before camp.”

  I remembered that he got fired at the produce market. I needed to ask Pop if he’d had any run-ins with him. Before I could pursue the topic further, Ike had returned with a metal tray with a needle attached to surgical thread.

  Roy’s face turned absolutely green. I didn’t know he was such a baby.

  “Don’t make me into a Frankenstein,” Roy joked weakly.

  “No worries. You’ll be on the beauty-pageant circuit in no time.”

  While I held the tray, Ike first cleaned the wound and then applied some local anesthetic with a piece of gauze. Roy cringed several times throughout the procedure; I’m sure that he would have cried out if I wasn’t there.

  I hadn’t noticed Ike’s fingers before, but they were slender and beautiful. He kept his nails neat and manicured, and I was transfixed by his movements as he sewed up Roy’s lip. He did two set of stitches, one outside of the lip and one inside. He was going to make a fine surgeon.

  He gave Roy aspirin and a pill to help him sleep. Roy pulled himself up and said good night to me before he trudged to one of the back bedrooms.

  While Ike put away his supplies, I wandered around the living room and stared at oval portraits of an impressive-looking Japanese man in a top hat and tie alongside a woman in a beautiful kimono. Ike was from a wealthy family, like Roy. They had much in common.

  “Sorry that I wasn’t more of a help,” I said to Ike once we were back in the Oldsmobile.

  “No, you were. You kept Roy calm and that was more than half the battle.” He turned the key in the ignition to take me home. It was late, about midnight. Even my father would be asleep by now.

  I looked out the window for a few blocks, not saying anything. I didn’t know what to expect to see on the South Side of town, but the line of homes on the street all seemed impressive and well maintained.

  When we stopped at an intersection, I finally spoke. “Has Roy been causing you many problems?”

  “He’s a good guy. I like him. He gets fired up sometimes. I can’t say that I blame him. His father is still locked up in Santa Fe, his mother in Manzanar, and the family business is in shambles. The government froze all their money in Sumitomo Bank.”

  “How did you two meet?”

  “It was actually because of your sister.”

  “Really?” I hadn’t realized that Ike had even known Rose that well.

  “It was at a dance at the YMCA earlier this year. The winter started off pretty warm, but then we had a snowstorm in February. All the Californians were dying with cold; they had never gone through below-zero weather. Roy was sure that he had frostbite on his toes, and Rose was telling him that he was being foolish. I guess he was insisting that it was true. She had heard that I was in med school, so she had me take a look.”

  “You got Roy as a roommate because of his toes?”

  Ike began laughing and I saw that he had a gap in between his two front teeth.

  “The timing was right. With my uncle’s export-import business shot because of the war, my aunt needed some extra income from a lodger. I’m at the hospital most of the time, anyway. Roy keeps everything neat and tidy. And he’s a hard worker, too.”

  That was definitely true.

  “That was when Roy and Rose were still close. Tomi, too.”

  “You
knew Tomi?”

  “She was at the dance. She was giggling so much that ginger ale was coming out her nose. She’s a funny one.”

  I was in disbelief. Tomi didn’t strike me as a girl who had one silly bone in her body.

  “How are you doing, anyway? Here in Chicago.”

  I didn’t know how to answer that question. “It’s better than being locked up.”

  “You’ll get used to it. The Midwest has good people.”

  “I want to know what happened to my sister.” To hear myself say it out loud in Ike’s presence surprised even me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She didn’t kill herself. And she doesn’t have two left feet or anything, so don’t tell me she tripped onto the tracks.”

  The inside of the Oldsmobile became eerily quiet.

  “Something happened to Rose.”

  Ike didn’t ask me to explain myself. Maybe he was afraid of what I was going to say.

  “Do you know Hammer that well?” I asked.

  Ike shook his head. “All I know is that he came to Chicago from Boys Town in Omaha, Nebraska. He actually ran away from there.”

  “The Boys Town?” I remembered going to see the black-and-white movie about Father Flanagan, played by Spencer Tracy, and his rough-and-tumble charges in a home for troubled juveniles.

  “Roy told me that Hammer got arrested for stealing in Manzanar.”

  Then it would make sense that he was sent away to a reform center. There was no way he was qualified for the leave program under normal channels.

  “Hammer hates Roy. He thinks Roy was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And then when Hammer got close to Rose, it drove Roy crazy.”

  I was too stunned to say anything. Hammer and Rose? I hoped that my silence would permit Ike to talk more, but we were now in front of my apartment.

  “I’ve probably said too much,” Ike said as the Oldsmobile’s engine idled. “Don’t mention anything to Roy, okay?”

  “Thank you, Ike,” I said before I pulled the lever up to open the door. “And thank you for being Roy’s friend.”