The other dishes are on the counter. He starts running water in the sink. The dishwasher broke almost six months ago, and Clifford said one evening, much to Evan’s surprise, that he liked washing dishes. Not as much as making ships in bottles, but enough to not bother replacing the dishwasher. Suddenly Evan misses his father so badly he can hardly bear it. He doubles over in pain, holding on to the counter so as not to fall in a heap on the floor. All that anger that was holding back the grief — pressing in on it — has lifted a fair bit now, enough to allow it to surface. A mixed blessing.
He recovers. He stands up and looks out the window at the pool. The only thing missing is fish. He’ll get fish. Those big gold Japanese fish. He looks down, sticks his hands in the hot water, feels the relief it offers, leaves them there, leaning heavily on the bottom of the sink as the soapy water climbs his forearms.
“We could find them.”
He looks up. His grandfather is standing at the door to the kitchen. Evan turns back to the sink, turns off the water. Pauses. Starts putting dishes into the sink, quietly, not wanting to break the spell.
“We could find them,” says Griff again. “Your relatives.”
Evan almost laughs. It’s so crazily unbelievable. Is it worth trying to teach this old man anything? Yes, he thinks. But start easy. “Our relatives,” he says, quietly.
Evan turns to look at Griff. He is standing “at ease,” his legs apart, his arms loose, his hands gripped loosely together in front of him. At ease isn’t easy for him.
“What did you say?”
“Our relatives, Griff. They’re your relatives, too.”
Griff doesn’t nod right off. It’s hard for him, thinks Evan. That much steel in your backbone makes nodding a difficult task. And it is, after all, hard to grasp. This family Griff has mostly only ever met as ghosts on a faraway island. Don’t make this hard on him, Evan tells himself.
“I’d like that,” he says.
Griff just stands there. Evan isn’t sure the old man heard him. He didn’t say it very loudly. It is hard for Evan, too. There had only been his father and him. And his father had been an always kind of father. No fight ever lasted past bedtime. And here was a man who had managed somehow to stay in a fight that lasted a lifetime. So what he had just said — what Griff had just said — why, you’d have to classify it as a minor miracle?
We could find them.
Evan turns to face his grandfather.
“I’d like that,” he says again. And watches a smile crease the old soldier’s leathery face.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This is a work of fiction. Alas, World War II was not. Wherever I have mentioned real battles, I have endeavored to get my facts straight. And where military matters are involved, I also hope that my research has been thorough. I am especially indebted to William T. Paull, who served in the U.S. Marines in the Pacific. His memoir, From Butte to Iwo Jima, can be found at: www.sihope .com/~tipi/marine.html. I borrowed two or three excellent details from the chapter called “Boot Camp, Camp Elliot & Brawley, CA.” The memoir is well worth reading as a personal narrative of the war. Paull died in 2007.
This book has gone through many incarnations, helped along by the encouragement and excellent advice of loved ones and writer friends who have generously provided information, read one or more versions, or put into my hand just the right book to read. I would like to thank, especially, Steve Bramucci, Sheryl De Paolo, Ikue Endo, Amanda Lewis, Dana Walraith, Pam Watts, and Lewis Wynne-Jones.
Mal Peet was also a big influence. His book Tamar finally helped me to understand where it was I wanted to go with this story. I was so looking forward to sending him a copy, but sadly he died early this year. He was a great author, a grand, good man, and a new friend. He will be missed for all of those reasons.
Thanks as always to my brilliant editor at Candlewick, Liz Bicknell, as well as to Kaylan Adair, who braved the Very Long Draft; Sawako Shirota, who reviewed and corrected my Japanese; Carter Hasegawa, who helped to steer me through the sticky bits; and Erin DeWitt, who did an inspired copyedit.
Ōshiro is a very common name in Okinawa, but the Okinawan reading of the kanji characters would render it as Ogusuku. I have gone with the Japanese rendition, because I think Isamu would have adopted the name Ōshiro so as to avoid discrimination when he joined the army. The name in either form means “big castle.” I’m sure the Emperor of Kokoro-Jima would have loved to have such a grand surname.
Rachel Cope, Sandra Nickel, and Nicole Valentine each contributed substantially to the Vermont College of Fine Arts scholarship fund for the chance to have a character named after themselves or someone of their choice in this novel. Thank you. And thanks as always to my colleagues and the endlessly inspiring students at VCFA, who have listened to me read excerpts from the novel-in-progress on at least four occasions.
The author acknowledges the support of the Canada Council for the Arts, which last year invested $157 million to bring the arts to Canadians throughout the country.
L’auteur remercie le Conseil des arts du Canada de son soutien. L’an dernier, le Conseil a investi 157 millions de dollars pour mettre de l’art dans la vie des Canadiennes et des Canadiens de tout le pays.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2015 by Tim Wynne-Jones
Cover photographs: copyright © 2015 Interfoto/Superstock (island);
copyright © 2015 Buyenlarge/Superstock (bird demon)
Calligraphy by Sawako Shirota
Extract from “A Process in the Weather of the Heart” by Dylan Thomas, from The Poems of Dylan Thomas, copyright 1939 by New Directions Publishing Corp. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. in U.S.A. and Canada and by permission of David Higham Associates Limited in rest of English-language territories throughout the world.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2015
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2014953457
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