“I’m not sorry I killed him,” Jessie said. “I’m only sorry I got you involved. Lucy...if it had gone any further, I would have confessed. I would never have let you go to jail for me.”
“Then I’m glad it didn’t go any further.”
“Did your daughter tell you I came by? A couple days after?”
“She told me. She was very curious about my mysterious friend.” Lucy smiled wistfully.
“She mentioned she was getting married. She’s really turned out great, Lucy. You should be proud.”
“Thank you.”
“You know, all these years... Sometimes I would call information, just to find out if you were still here, still living in San Francisco. I guess I just liked knowing that I could find you again. But all that time I never knew you had a daughter.”
“It’s...it’s a long story.”
“I’m sure it is,” Jessie said gently. “It can’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t. But it’s all right.” Lucy paused, wondering how much to tell him. “It might seem strange, but I never really told her about that time.”
“I never talk about Manzanar,” he said, the faint lines between his eyes betraying his age. “Maybe it’s just easier, you know, when you’ve lived through something like that. But ever since I moved to Portland...since my divorce...I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I had nightmares, I—I had a sort of breakdown. One day I bought that gun, but even then I wasn’t really serious. I mean, I bought it in a feed store, for Christ’s sake, it’s made for stunning livestock. You don’t need any ID. Hell, a kid could buy one. I didn’t even know if it would work.”
“When you called me that morning, you said you were just going over there to talk to him.”
“I know. I’ve thought about that a hundred times. I mean, calling you... Maybe I still hadn’t decided, I don’t know. But once I got there, once I saw him sitting there, working at his job like he was anyone, like he hadn’t done all those...things...well, right then I knew I was going to do it all along.”
“Jessie. You know you have to be careful now. If they have your gun, they have your prints. Just because they closed the case—”
“I know.” Jessie shrugged, and in the gesture Lucy saw the boy he’d once been, and a thousand memories tumbled through her mind. The way he’d walk with his bat bag slung over his shoulder, like he couldn’t wait to get on the field. The way he held her hand as they roamed the streets of Manzanar. “I know. But I’m not afraid of what happens anymore. He’s gone. That’s what matters.”
He moved toward her and put his arms around her. For a moment Lucy stiffened, and then she relaxed. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, and let him hold her.
When at last she drew away, there were tears in his eyes. “You look beautiful today, Lucy,” he said gruffly. “Please give your daughter my congratulations.”
Lucy watched him from her window, her fingertips resting lightly on the glass. He didn’t look back as he crossed the street and got into a tidy sedan and drove away.
All these things from the past coming to a close. All these loose ends finally being tied up.
Lucy’s back had been aching for hours. Too much standing in those ridiculous, shiny shoes. She stepped out of them right there at the window and left them on the carpet, and then she tugged off the panty hose too, and let them fall on top of the shoes. She could not recall another time that she had walked through her house barefoot.
In her bedroom, Lucy unpinned her corsage and set it on the dresser. She hung her dress and put on her nightgown and went back through the house, turning off lights. Jessie’s visit had stirred up a confusing blend of emotions, on top of her exhaustion from the wedding.
It had been a long time since she’d made so much polite conversation. Jay’s mother never let anyone get a word in edgewise. The men from his office seemed skittish around her, but their wives made an effort. Lucy appreciated that. She wanted her daughter to be in good hands. Patty wasn’t as wary as she ought to be.
Lucy got into her narrow bed and turned off the lamp. She pulled the covers up to her chin and stared at the bars of street light that came through the blinds and striped the ceiling. The crack was getting worse—each year it seemed to travel a few more inches. Nothing that some plaster and paint wouldn’t fix.
Lucy let her eyes drift closed, and the image that came to her mind was from that long-ago moment in San Francisco when Mary had left for the train station and Lucy and Patty were alone in the tiny room she’d rented. She lifted a corner of the Woolworth’s blanket and peeked at her baby. Patty was plain, even at a few days old. Her mouth was slack, her forehead broad, her cheeks ruddy and damp with sweat. Her tiny hands grasped at nothing. She would never know the thrill of turning heads when she walked through a crowd. She’d never move a boy to recklessness or a girl to bitter jealousy. She’d work for her rewards and suffer ordinary disappointments and, quite possibly, she’d always feel as though she was missing something she couldn’t quite define.
One of the final wedding details to be worked out was Patty’s walk down the aisle, since she had no father, no uncles, no older brother, no friend of the family to give her away. When Jay took the two of them to dinner one night a couple of weeks ago, Patty had said that she would just walk down the aisle by herself. She looked so wistful that for a moment, Lucy wished that she had done everything differently.
But Jay had toasted Lucy with his coffee mug. “Don’t be ridiculous. Your mom can give you away. Can’t you, Mrs. T?”
And so it was Lucy who walked with Patty today, holding tightly to her daughter’s arm, unsteady in her satin shoes, trying to ignore the people staring at her. The altar seemed a mile away. I can, I can, I can, Lucy repeated in her mind, just like a hundred other times, and before long they arrived.
* * * * *
Acknowledgments
This story began the way so many of my favorites do: on the road with Juliet Blackwell. Over the years, many a boring stint on a plane or in a rental car have been enlivened by conversations with Julie, who I’m convinced knows a little something about every subject on the planet. “Just enough to be dangerous,” I imagine her saying, but it was idle musing on the subjects of Japanese internment and Victorian taxidermy that inspired this book.
Barbara Poelle, my cherished agent, didn’t even bat an eye when I told her what I wanted to attempt. Without her unflagging support, I doubt I’d have had the courage to imagine this story.
I am very grateful to Adam Wilson, my intrepid editor, for embracing this project, advocating for it and guiding me through the early stages. Then, when new adventures called Adam elsewhere, Erika Imranyi was entirely gracious about inheriting not just an author but a manuscript that needed serious attention. Erika and I went through several bruising rounds of revisions, and it means the world to me that she didn’t give up until it was right. It is a privilege to work with her.
A few more thanks are in order: Leonore Waldrip for the brainstorming; Rachael Herron, Nicole Peeler, Mike Cooper and Bob Littlefield for the early reads and encouragement; Dave Madden, for writing a wildly entertaining book that changed the way I view research forever; The Pens Fatales and Murder She Writes for their friendship and support.
Special thanks to William Wiecek, Judy Hamilton and Kristen Wiecek. You are there when I need you, and I will never be able to thank you enough.
A Conversation with Sophie Littlefield
Garden of Stones is very different from other books you’ve published. What led to your decision to write something new, and what inspired your ideas for the story and characters in the book?
When I began writing several decades ago, I found I loved the freedom of moving between genres—crime fiction, young adult, dark fantasy—trying to craft the most compelling story possible. There is great excitement in treading on unfamiliar ground, and I think risk-taking can lead to captivating and unforgettable stories.
Garden of Stones came about over a series of conversations I had with my dear friend, author Juliet Blackwell. She is a native Californian, and knew much more about the Japanese internment camps than I did, having grown up in the Midwest. I found this chapter of our nation’s history engrossing and horrifying, so I started thinking about how to explore it through fiction. My own novels often feature women—specifically mothers and daughters—at the heart, which led me to focus on their experience during this troubling era. Other story elements came about serendipitously, even small details like the Nancy Drew mysteries mentioned in the book—I’d unearthed an old copy of The Mystery at Lilac Inn, and I kept it on my desk as I wrote.
You’ve written about a very specific—and difficult—period in U.S. history. What drew you to this time and setting? What kind of research did you do, and what were the challenges you faced writing a historical novel?
When I began this project, I knew I had a daunting research challenge ahead of me. I read everything I could get my hands on: dozens of books, first-person accounts, journals, newsletters. I pored over photographs and covered the walls of my office with maps and illustrations.
I made the trip to Manzanar and spent a day at the restored camp, talking to the staff and viewing the exhibits. Walking among the ruins of the blocks and gardens I’d read so much about was inexplicably moving. I felt as though I was standing with the spirits of those who had lived there. I also visited a small museum in the town of Independence that had a wonderful collection of ephemera and memorabilia: letters, handicrafts, school photos, newspapers, dishes, clothes and furniture made by internees.
There are also many wonderful websites about the pop culture of the era; I spent an entire afternoon learning about 1940s cleaning products!
Did you find it challenging to write about a culture that’s different from your own? What sort of research did you do to ensure the authenticity of your characters and life inside the Manzanar prison camp?
I was concerned about this aspect of the book until I started reading the first-person accounts and interviews of internees. The perspective differed greatly between the Issei (born in Japan) and Nisei (born in America), and between those who were children and those who were adults. The accounts are rich with detail and helped me understand the values and priorities of the families and communities whose lives were affected by the war, which in turn helped me create credible fictional accounts. There was such a strong sense of patriotism among many of the internees, despite their treatment by our government and citizens. The determination to self-identify as American remained powerful in nearly every account I read, and I tried to reflect that in the novel.
In the book, you explore the lengths a mother will go to protect her children—even if it means hurting them. Some readers may find Miyako’s actions cruel and unspeakable, while others may feel the consequences of doing nothing would have been far worse. Did you intend for Miyako to be a sympathetic character? What do you want readers to take from her actions?
Despite Miyako’s struggle with her fragile mental health, she fights to hold herself together for the sake of her daughter. A woman with Miyako’s challenges in modern America might find effective treatment and be able to lead a full and rewarding life. During the war, that was nearly impossible, and yet Miyako did the best she could for Lucy.
I think the interesting question is whether she failed Lucy in the end. I spent a lot of time considering how a girl who had suffered what Lucy suffered would grow up—what kind of woman she would become, and whether she would be able to forgive. I must admit that I’m not entirely decided, myself.
What was your biggest surprise as you were writing this novel?
I am very surprised at how familiar the adult Lucy felt to me as I began to write her. I thought I would have been much more tentative in describing her attitudes, emotions and actions. But she arrived, as characters occasionally do, completely formed, and I felt no hesitation as I wrote her scenes.
Can you describe your writing process? Do you outline first or dive right in? Do you write scenes consecutively or jump around? Do you have a schedule or routine? A lucky charm?
I am still searching for my best process, and I’m getting the feeling that search will last a lifetime! True to my restless nature, I try lots of different things. I’ve written with detailed outlines and none at all; in chronological order and jumping around.
I do keep a detailed guide for every book and series. This includes a table of characters with their most salient characteristics, a time line and a list of significant places. As for schedule...I adore the fact that this job lets me set my own hours. I work throughout the day—from first sip of coffee through the glass of wine that marks the end of most evenings. But I take breaks whenever I feel like it: to do chores, go to the gym or hiking, have lunch with friends, hang out with my daughter after school.
I have a variety of talismans in my office. There are three little plastic penguins, a mini Etch A Sketch on which my son wrote “I Love You” when he was 8 or 10, a tiara given to me by a writing friend, and the card that came with the flowers my brother sent to mark the publication of my first novel.
What can you tell us about your next novel?
I am working on a novel in which an affluent suburban family is forced to endure a terrifying event together. Over the course of two days, all of their relationships with each other are profoundly altered.
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
1. After Pearl Harbor, many Americans worried that citizens of Japanese descent, especially those living on the West coast, might be acting as spies and traitors. Are such fears understandable? Can you think of similar events in recent history? How can we avoid reacting as we have in the past, with suspicion and intolerance?
2. Miyako’s husband was nearly twice her age, and her only friend is fifteen years her senior. What do you think drew them together? How does Aiko try to help Miyako, and do you think she succeeds? How did camp life affect their friendship? How might Lucy and Miyako’s experience in the camp have differed if Renjiro had not died?
3. The Takeda family was wealthier than many who were interned. Do you think that made the transition to camp life harder or easier? In what ways?
4. George Rickenbocker, Reg Forrest and Benny Van Dorn created a sort of underground social network at Manzanar. How do you suppose they got away with it? How did internees figure into it? Do you think George and Benny were aware of Reg’s involvement with Jessie, and if so, why did they tolerate it?
5. What finally drove Miyako to her desperate act in Manzanar? Do you feel she had other options, or was it the only way she could save Lucy?
6. In the deaths of George Rickenbocker and Reg Forrest, was justice served? Do you think Patty truly accepted the possibility that her mother killed Reg? Is she at peace with her mother’s choices?
7. Patty grew up thinking her mother never experienced romantic love, but in fact, she did—twice: first with Jessie
and then with Garvey. Why do you think Lucy continues to keep a few secrets, even after telling Patty nearly everything about her past?
8. Garvey is considerably older than Lucy. By contemporary standards, their relationship would be considered inappropriate. Do you think their relationship was genuine? Could they have survived in Lone Pine as a couple?
9. Taxidermy is more than an avocation for Garvey, and later, for Lucy. What is the symbolic significance of taxidermy in the novel? Why do you suppose each is drawn to it, and how does it bring them together?
10. Why do you think Jessie chose to contact Lucy and pursue vengeance after so many years? Had Patty not intervened with Van Dorn, would Lucy have taken the fall for her childhood sweetheart?
11. Disfigurement is a recurring theme in the book. Besides Lucy, what other characters might be said to be wounded, either literally or figuratively?
12. There are several starkly different portrayals of motherhood in the novel. In what ways, if any, could each of these characters be considered good mothers?
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