Herman waved at her and smiled. He wore his goodness like a badge. His giant hands held a yellow plumeria lei, which he placed around her neck. His neck smelled like sardines and sweet flowers. His touch was tentative, and even after a week together and weeks of almost daily letter writing, she realized they hardly knew each other.
After the initial hug, Herman pulled out a small box.
He knelt down.
The people around them disappeared and she could see only his mouth forming words.
“Violet, will you marry me?”
In her mind, she began to frantically recall the letters and if she had possibly missed one. In all of their correspondence, marriage had not been mentioned. But then why else would a man buy a woman a ticket halfway around the world?
“We have your mother’s blessing.”
His eyes were so open and expectant. Was there any other answer than yes?
* * *
A loud pounding rattled Violet from her daydream. “Hello?” a voice called.
It was Luther. “Thank you for coming.”
“Anytime, you know that. What can I do for ya?” he said.
“Jean and I are going to sell pies in Waimea on Saturday mornings. Give the soldiers a feeling of home and make some pocket change,” she said.
Luther had to bend his neck straight down when talking to her. “I’m afraid I’m not much good at pie making, so if you’ve invited me here for that, you’re fresh out of luck.”
The thought of Luther with an apron on, baking a pie, caused her to laugh. He only cooked meat. She knew this because they shared an occasional dinner together, along with Jean and a few other faculty members. Being around Luther was a link to Herman, and she was glad for his company, even if he seemed preoccupied these days and kept more to himself.
“Now there’s a sight. But we do need a pie stand, something that we can fold up and is easy to assemble. I know you would be good at that,” Violet said.
“Now you’re in business. I can have something ready by the weekend if you’d like. How many pies you looking to sell?”
“I think we’ll start with twenty and go from there. But I have a little extra time now that Ella’s in Japanese school in the afternoons,” she said.
His voice boomed. “That such a good idea?”
Violet was fed up with paranoia. “It was her idea. And why the hell not?”
Luther tucked his hands in under his belt, lowered his voice, looked around as though someone might be hiding between the walls and leaned close enough that she thought she smelled liquor on his breath. “Just between you and me, I’ve been hearing rumors that they might close the school.”
Violet about fell over. “What? Where did you hear that?”
“Oh, in and about town. People talk. You know that.”
Closing the school would ripple through their small community, ruining her friends’ livelihood and cutting off her daughter’s newfound independence. Somewhere between the September heat and a rising feeling of dread, her palms broke out in sweat.
“Is there anything you can do about it? Herman talked to someone not long after Pearl Harbor, when there was mention of closing it then. Do you know who?” She had to take a breath to steady herself.
He shrugged it off. “No idea.”
“You must have connections. Please, Luther, we need this. Ella needs it,” she said.
He held up his hands. “I’m not privy to the government’s agenda. There’s a lot going on we don’t know about. Hard to trust anyone these days.”
She would have to warn Takeo.
* * *
October 2 turned out to be a good day for the Allies. According to the radio, they’d breached the Siegfried Line and would now be able to penetrate Germany along the northwestern border. The Germans had just crushed the Polish resistance in Warsaw and needed to be stopped. Maybe someone would finally do something about that mustached pig.
Violet was boiling coconut and listening to the news when Ella burst through the door, arms flailing. She was home far too early for Japanese school to be over.
“Mama, there are armed men at the school. You have to come!” Ella said.
Violet almost fell over. “What?”
Ella could barely get the words out between gasps. “They came while we were singing and stood outside. Sensei told us that school would be ending early today and to go home. The men didn’t look nice.”
“Honey, you stay here with Jean.”
Jean had heard Ella and hovered nearby. Shaking, Violet slipped her shoes on and ran up to the school. Branches tore at her dress and the dense air pressed in on her lungs. By the time she arrived on the small porch, she had to fold over to catch a breath. Two army jeeps were parked in front. Too late to warn Takeo.
When she opened the door, the chirping of the birds halted and the entire room froze. Papers were strewn across the room and drawers piled haphazardly on the floor. Without the singing children, the place felt stingingly cold.
“What the devil is going on?” she cried.
Three men stood around the desk, and an older one with a scar carved deep into his cheekbone stepped forward. “Ma’am, this is a government matter. I’m going to have to ask you to return to wherever you came from.”
Violet couldn’t restrain herself. “How dare you come in here when the kids are in class. Have you no common decency?”
The soldiers all began fidgeting. “We were prepared to wait but Mr. Hamasu requested for the children to leave,” the scarred one said.
Takeo stood off to the side with a blank face and unreadable eyes. He nodded toward the door.
Still, she wasn’t leaving. “I want to know what you’re doing here. Takeo already went through this after Pearl Harbor. They’re not even teaching Japanese, for heaven’s sake.”
The man spoke as though she was just a small annoyance. “That may be the case, but we’re doing what we see fit to keep the country safe. This is a matter of national security. What concern do you have in the matter, anyway, Mrs....?”
“Mrs. Iverson, sir. My daughter is a student here.”
The men exchanged glances and a look of confusion spread across their faces. “At Japanese school?” the spokesman said.
“Yes, and she loves it. She comes home with folded paper animals and is learning how to create a miniature tree. Terribly dangerous stuff.”
It seemed odd that they would be coming now. The threat of direct attack had lessened and the Japanese were being forced back toward their homeland. Violet knew Takeo like a brother. He had stepped in after Herman disappeared and been a second father to Ella. If she was sure of one thing, it was that Takeo was no spy.
The spokesman leaned against the desk and folded his puffy arms. “As of now, the school is officially closed and we are taking over the building. Sorry for your daughter but she doesn’t really belong here anyway.” The look he gave her said he wasn’t sorry at all.
Violet shivered from the understanding that these men had poisoned minds and were unable to think for themselves. The war had created some kind of mass hysteria. “My husband was the principal of Honoka’a School and the head of Hawaii Rifles. He vouched for Takeo. Shouldn’t that count for something?”
“Leonard, please escort Mrs. Iverson home so we can wrap things up here and get a move on,” the spokesman said to one of the younger men. And to her, “We are done here.”
Violet stepped back toward the door. “I don’t need escorting.” Her eyes met with Takeo’s, and behind his calm exterior, his eyes gave her the impression of a murky pond, one without answers. He failed miserably in his attempt at a smile.
Takeo spoke. “Violet. Thank you.”
Her name sounded lonely without the san at the end.
* * *
Rather than returning to her house, she went straight
for Setsuko, who she knew would be at home with the kids. She didn’t bother knocking and let the screen door slam shut behind her. Glancing across the room, she saw Umi and Hiro on the floor listening to the radio. Setsuko stood by the window, her face drawn down and her eyes bloodshot.
They were about the same height, and when Violet hugged her, Setsuko trembled and wouldn’t let go. “I’m scared. They said they were searching for something of vital importance,” Setsuko said.
She had never seen Setsuko like this. “They probably always say that. If they close the school, we can do crafts with the kids here. And they have our little garden here and Ahualoa.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about. I think they’re taking him.”
Violet pulled away, still holding both her hands, and looked her in the eye. “Taking him?”
“To the relocation camp at Kilauea. The captain said something about the Ni’ihau incident,” Setsuko whispered, then put her finger to her lips.
They were practically nose to nose and Violet could see the salt from the dried tears on Setsuko’s cheeks. “That was years ago. And what would it have to do with Takeo?”
Everyone knew about the Ni’ihau incident. In 1941, a Japanese pilot had crashed on the small island after raiding Pearl Harbor. Initially, the Hawaiian people of the island didn’t even know about the bombing, but when they got wind of the attack, they apprehended him. The pilot sought aid from three local Japanese, who assisted him in breaking loose, finding weapons and taking hostages. In the mind of the Americans, it proved that anyone of Japanese descent could not be trusted.
“Nothing at all, but they already have their minds made up,” Setsuko said.
Violet gripped her wrists. “We won’t let it happen.”
Chapter Eleven
Ella
All of us kids were scared when the armed men showed up, but Sensei told us not to worry when he went outside to talk to them. I wondered if I was the cause of this. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be there and they had come for me. But that wasn’t it. Over and over, I could hear Sensei saying, “I’m an American, you have to believe.” It turned out the men wanted to search for something in our schoolhouse.
Sensei came back in and told us that school would be closed until further notice, and that we should head straight home. Sumiko and Ethyl in front of me started crying. On the way out, the men gave me funny looks. Everything went orderly, but I got a taste of despair coming off of Sensei, like he wanted to fold himself into an origami crane and fly away. A single tear ran down his cheek when I turned to wave at him. All I could do was give him my biggest smile, one that I rarely use.
I hated the thought of Mama alone in the near darkness. There were a lot of bad people around. Or good people, depending on who you asked. One time, just after the army moved into town, we were walking up to see Papa, who was working late at school. At that point we were used to being able to do whatever we wanted, and being the principal’s family gave us what Mama called clout. It was just after sundown and I was telling Mama about the book Lassie Come-Home that Mrs. Hicks read us, and how they made it into a movie. Neither of us paid any attention to a man giving commands. Mama had her big blue eyes turned on me as though I was the only person alive—until we heard, “Stop or I’ll shoot!” We both turned into statues and Mama yelled who we were. He said he didn’t care and curfew was curfew. That was when we knew things had really changed.
It was dark by the time Mama came home. Her eyes were swollen and I ran up to hug her when she came into the kitchen.
She wiped her nose with a dish towel. “They took Takeo away.”
“Oh heavens, no!” Jean said.
I could see Mama was on fire. “You know what gets me? This whole hysteria. I understand that we need to protect ourselves, but there’s a line of human decency that has been crossed.”
Jean set down her glass of milk. “That may be true, but a lot of these people from the mainland don’t know our Japanese like we do. All they know is that we are at war and our lives are at stake.”
Well, that got my mama going, and her nostrils flared like they did when she was fuming. “Alma Jean, are you siding with them?”
“I’m not siding with anyone. It’s a complicated situation, and I can see both sides. You know I love the Hamasus.”
One thing about Mama mad is that she takes action. “We need to talk to everyone we know. I’m going to see if Irene can get me on the line with the governor tomorrow. Takeo is the most harmless man around.”
Jean nodded and I hugged Mama harder. I didn’t want her to get herself in a situation like my papa did. She looked down at me like she just noticed I was there. Her hands rubbed my scalp. “I’m sorry, Ella. That you had to be there for that.”
“Where are they taking him?” I said.
“To a camp near the volcano.”
If they called it a camp, it must not be so bad, and I wondered what all the fuss was about. “Will we get to go, too?”
Mama and Jean looked at each other like they knew something that I didn’t.
“No, but maybe we can visit,” Mama said.
When we sat down to eat, Jean asked God for an extra helping of love for Takeo and his family. To my surprise, she also asked for Brownie to grow a new set of shiny feathers. She had a special way with prayers, which made me wonder if I should ask her to pray for me.
Brownie had managed to live, but it would be a long time before she looked like a proper chicken. The top hen in the yard attacked her when we set her down outside one sunny morning, and I had to run screaming at them with a shovel to break it up. Pecking order is something real, not just a made-up phrase. So we still keep them apart and Brownie sleeps in a cage on our lanai.
I knew I should feel sorry for Takeo and his family, but I was caught up thinking about myself. And how I wouldn’t be able to go back to his little schoolhouse. “Can we do Japanese school here?” I asked.
Mama and Jean had been talking about the war and they got quiet. “No, we can’t. But that doesn’t mean that Umi and Hiro can’t come over and practice origami. And I’m sure Setsuko would be happy to help you keep your tree alive since she won’t be helping out at the school anymore.”
It wouldn’t be the same as in the old wooden house. I liked how our voices bounced off of the floor and the walls, and I wanted to make an oshie out of old kimono material. I had only seen ones of people, but I planned on making a chicken. More than anything, I knew I was safe there.
Suddenly, it looked like a light went on in Mama’s head and she said, “Say, I have an idea!”
Chapter Twelve
Violet
The week was shaping up to be one of the worst in recent memory. Sleeps were fretful, Ella wet her pants in class for no apparent reason and the trade winds had taken a vacation. By the end of each school day, Violet’s dress was stuck to her back and her hair looked more like feathers. Setsuko had no option but to keep teaching, and spent her lunch breaks crying, as though she’d spent her whole life saving up the tears, and now they wouldn’t turn off.
On Friday morning, none of Violet’s students wanted to follow instructions. All anyone could talk about were the marines that were coming at noon to display their tanks and latest artillery. The boys wanted to see the weapons and the girls wanted to see the soldiers. The only good that would come out of it was that Zach and the boys would be joining them afterward for supper. The house could use a happiness boost.
Even before the bell rang, her students lined up at the door, spilling into the hallway. You could hear the thrum of engines down near the field.
“Johnny, keep your toes on this side of the threshold,” Violet said.
Johnny Martinez was the kind of young man who tested her at every turn. Constantly in motion, he had an affinity for breaking things. “But, Miss, I want to get picked to ride in the tank.” She h
ad long given up trying to change the fact that all teachers here were called Miss, regardless of their marital status.
“When the bell rings, we’ll go. No sooner.”
She had to stand in the doorway to keep them in. Finally the bell rang and everyone beelined to the field. Johnny Martinez tore off on his own. Even so, she had a hard time being upset with him. When it suited him, he could be sweeter than fresh sugarcane, and she had learned that her most difficult students were often the most lovable.
Several olive-colored tanks were positioned across the field, along with artillery carriers and an amphibious vessel that looked like a big metal dinghy with wheels. Johnny ran straight for the tank, which didn’t have as many people around it as she’d have expected. Under the midday sun, she could already feel her dress melting onto her back. Near the flagpole, a crowd had gathered. Violet raised herself up on her tiptoes to see what the draw was, but saw only a military jeep with a few soldiers standing around it. The elementary kids were already there and she looked around for Ella without any luck.
At this point, she gave up trying to control her class and nudged her way to the front of the crowd. When she saw what the fuss was about, her knees almost buckled. A lion lounged on the hood of the jeep as though it were the most natural thing in the world. She blinked several times to make sure her eyes were not making this up. A handful of kids crouched on the front of the jeep, petting the lion. One of those kids was Ella.
Violet’s first instinct was to holler out, but Ella looked spellbound, and beamed at the lion with her whole heart. All of her features were scrunched together in an enormous grin. This was ridiculous. Whose idea was this—bringing a lion and letting it loose with the kids?
Island of Sweet Pies and Soldiers Page 7