Wherever Dad is, he doesn’t count.
Mum puts her arm around me. “I know it’s hard on you. There is only us. Your grandmother made her choice and I made mine.”
I pull away, but I don’t take my eyes off her face.
“You made my choice too and that’s not fair. I want to see Nana Ruth.”
“You need to trust me, Charlotte. I’ve made the right decision for both of us.”
“What happened? How can I understand if you won’t tell me what happened?”
Mum grips the book so hard I can see the veins in her hand. “It’s something I can’t discuss with anyone. You’re not to visit her. You don’t have a grandmother.”
“I do have a grandmother.” I wanted to stay calm, but my voice rises. “You can’t take her away from me.”
“We’re doing okay together, aren’t we, Charlie?” Mum’s voice shakes like a hollow wobbleboard.
She’s suddenly small and vulnerable, like a bedraggled bird sitting in the rain. I can’t yell at her when she cries.
“Yes, Mum.”
I let her hug me even though, inside my head, I’m still shouting. I’m not letting her decide for me. I’m going anyway. I’ve never done something like this before, but it’s too important not to follow my heart. Any information will be a bonus.
“Hurry up, Charlie,” Mum calls. “You’ll miss the bus.”
This morning’s conversation has been tidily swept under the mat. She’s back on schedule now. Every morning, Mum drives me to the highway to catch the school bus. Every morning, she panics about missing it.
“Whatever you’re looking for, it’ll have to wait. I want you in the car now.”
I can’t find my phone anywhere. I can’t think clearly enough to remember where I put it. The Japanese Gardens excursion is today, and first stop is the Visitor Centre. What will happen when I stand in front of Shin’s photo?
I take a deep breath and look in my backpack again.
Sure enough, my phone is exactly where it should be.
“Charlie!” Mum’s voice is louder, angrier and more insistent.
“I’m coming.”
I slide into the back seat beside Kenichi.
“What did you forget this time?” Mum asks.
“Nothing. I was just looking for my phone. It was in my bag all along. It looks like it might rain. Could you check the radio for an excursion update? Mrs Royston said any changes would be announced there.”
“Good idea.”
Mum switches on the radio. She won’t be able to hear Kenichi and me talking now and, once the news is over, she’ll be in music mode.
“Are you worried about going to the Visitor Centre?” he asks.
“A bit. I don’t have a choice. I have to face the photo. It might provide another clue.”
“I’ll be there with you. I’ll hold on to your arm to help,” Kenichi reassures me.
“No, I need to feel the full impact. I have to risk whatever might happen. We need to find out as much as we can.”
Mum turns the radio down to give us the weather report. “No mention of rain. This is the first time I’ve ever hoped it doesn’t rain. I’m sure the paddocks can survive until Kenichi goes home.”
I wonder if he realises what a huge sacrifice that is. The hope of rain traded for sunshine. Do they even have droughts in Japan? I know they have earthquakes and floods. A few months ago a tsunami killed thousands of people. It was on the news for days. Around here we occasionally have bushfires. Luckily, they’re not as high on the disaster scale and no one has died.
At school, it’s off one bus and straight on to another. The excursion bus sits waiting in the school car park for ages. It’s only a ten-minute drive between school and the Visitor Centre. I could have run there by now.
The clouds have faded, and the sun is warm against the bus window. My mood brightens. Sunshine always makes me feel happy. Most people say sunshine is yellow. For me, it’s green, like Monday, the number three and perfectly straight lines.
Lucy is sitting beside me, drumming her fingers on the bus window. I made her a promise and I haven’t kept it. What sort of best friend am I? I’m nervous but that will be better than the guilt that’s been building inside me.
I think she would understand green sunshine. Green is her favourite colour. She’s a big believer in green things, like solar power, compost bins and recycling.
“I’ve got something to tell you, Luce, but you can’t tell anyone else.”
I don’t have to whisper to keep my words private. The bus is the noisiest place in the whole Lachlan Valley. Thirty conversations going at once and a group of boys egging on an arm-wrestling competition where Kenichi is sitting, up the back with the cricket team.
Lucy leans closer, her eyes bright with the promise of classified information. “Is it about Nana Ruth?”
“It’s about me. What would you say if I said sunshine is green?”
Lucy looks out the window and giggles. “It sort of is. You can’t get much more environmentally friendly than the sun.”
“If someone had synaesthesia they might really see green sunshine.”
“You know the weirdest stuff. You should be in a trivia contest. Syna – what was it? Is that some sort of eye problem?”
“It’s when your brain is wired differently, and all the sensory inputs get mixed up. Like colours and sounds. I know because I’ve got it. I’m a bit uncomfortable talking about being synth because I don’t want anyone thinking I’m strange. Especially you.”
“You are strange.” She giggles again. “Who else likes Maths and wears tie-dye shoes?”
“I’m serious. I really see people surrounded by colours. Sometimes I hear numbers and smell words. Some bird calls feel wet like water. All sorts of stuff like that. I’ve always been like this.”
“That’s so brilliant.”
I lean back against the seat, relieved. “I thought you might be angry or disappointed I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“That’s okay. Sometimes it’s hard to know when to say something. Like me with Nan. What colour am I?” Lucy asks.
“Kenichi asked the same question. He’s blue, in case you’re interested, but you’re pink. You have a rose-coloured glow around you.”
“You told him first?”
“I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to tell anyone. He worked it out. He’s pretty smart.”
“And cute.” She takes a pink lip gloss out from her bag. “Am I the second person you told?”
“Yes, and if I had a choice, you would’ve been first.”
“You’re forgiven, then. I really have a pink glow?”
“Only to me. Other people with synaesthesia might think you were purple.”
“They’d be wrong,” she says.
I spent years avoiding telling Lucy I was synth. I should’ve known it wouldn’t have made any difference at all.
At the Visitor Centre, Lucy and I hang at the end of the line to go in. Kenichi is already somewhere inside.
“Come on.” She gives me a shove and the screen door slams behind us. “The hologram is starting. I’ll do the worksheet questions about that. I know you hate it. You can have page two and then we’ll swap answers.”
“Thanks, Luce. You’re the best.”
Kenichi waves me over to where he’s standing beside a glass case containing weapons from the war. I point towards the photo display at the far end of the room. I have to brave the photo while I can. He smiles encouragingly, as he walks over to me, but it doesn’t help.
I feel cold. Frightened. A hurricane of cabbage moths whirls in my stomach, their wings keeping time with my heartbeat. The air tastes like snow. I suck a deep, frozen breath that sticks inside my throat. I imagine there’s no class, no Visitor Centre, not even Lucy or Mrs Royston. Just me, Kenichi and Shin. I can do this. Easy as lemon meringue pie.
I give Kenichi a smile I can’t feel as I reach to touch the photo.
The world screams at me. Loud,
discordant words, thick with a violent urgency. Dizzy and hot, I brace my feet against the spinning floor, trying to stay upright. The drumming is frenzied and frantic, forcing the voices to shout louder.
Why is it so dark?
I hear Kenichi call, but I can’t answer. Inside my head, the noise swallows any thoughts before they can form sentences. The voices push and pull me into a dense, murky fog. My thoughts buckle, bent out of shape.
A lamp light flickers to reveal ten men hunched in a circle. Their voices rise and one man is pushed away, the argument raging on without him. The men are speaking Japanese, but no language barrier can protect me from their resentment and anger.
I feel the firm touch of Kenichi’s hand on my arm. He reaches in to wherever I am and the words rearrange into desperate, whispered instructions.
“Tonight,” one says. “Pass the message through the huts.”
“Does it have to be this way?” another asks. “Couldn’t we talk about it? They always listen.”
“This time they lied. We cannot trust them anymore.”
“We are officers of the Imperial Japanese Army. They cannot be allowed to separate us from our men. We must do our duty. It will be done tonight. Each officer must prepare his men for the battle ahead. Many will die, but it will be with honour.” The voice speaks with authority, tired yet determined and proud, older than the others. No one argues with him.
“Gather what weapons we have. Blankets and coats too. Send the sick to the kitchen with knives,” he says.
One soldier removes a butter knife from his pocket and walks over to the man sitting in the corner, his head in his hands.
“You can’t come with us.”
The man looks up and I see his face. Shin reaches for the knife.
“I know what to do,” he mutters. “I don’t need to be told.”
He limps along the path to the kitchen. There he sits under a table, his finger stroking the sharpened blade of the knife, his words like a prayer, too soft for me to hear.
The others are dispersing to their home huts. I’ve always associated history with older people, like Miss Beadle and Mum, but these are the men in the photos on display in the Visitor Centre. Eternally young, like Eli, suspended in time.
When I open my eyes, I’m sitting on the floor, Kenichi holding me steady with both hands. I try to stand but not before a group has gathered around me. So embarrassing. Kenichi passes my water bottle and I gesture him closer to whisper in his ear. “No pain. I’m okay.”
“Back off, Charlie needs some fresh air.” Lucy pushes through the crowd. She waves everyone away, including Kenichi, who frowns but doesn’t argue.
Mrs Royston fumbles in her handbag. “I’m going to call your mother.”
“I’m fine,” I insist. “I felt dizzy. It’s passed now. Probably because I didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”
“You need to be more sensible. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Lucy, take Charlotte across to McDonald’s and get her something to eat.” Mrs Royston wrinkles her nose as she hands Lucy twenty dollars. “Try to find something healthy.”
Lucy holds on to me, like I’m a rag doll about to flop over any minute. When we’re outside, I shake off her arm. “I’m okay.”
“You scared me. I’ve never seen your face so white.”
“I’m feeling heaps better now. Sorry about McDonald’s.”
If she had a choice, Lucy wouldn’t go anywhere near the place. She’s an ecowarrior, determined to save the world one Big Mac box at a time, lecturing me on everything from environmental damage to food quality.
“You picked the right time for a fainting spell. For once, I’d rather be at McDonald’s. The Visitor Centre is the same old boring stuff every time. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Perfectly fine.”
“You fell into Kenichi’s arms and then he lowered you gently to the floor.”
Now that she can see I’m fine she’s on to the more important details, demonstrating with an exaggerated sigh and a swoon backwards. “Just like the movies, and he caught you.” She sighs again.
“I didn’t do it on purpose and neither did he. He just happened to be standing there. He could hardly let me fall flat on my back.”
“I know. It still looked romantic. You should have seen the look on Rhiannon’s face.”
“Then it was worth it.”
I order two cheeseburgers, a large fries and a coke, then add a soft serve ice cream as well. I wouldn’t normally eat that much, but this will probably be the only time school buys me breakfast.
Lucy orders a banana muffin.
We make our way to the only clean table in sight. It’s bathed in the warmth of morning sunshine. Birds pick at the crumbs on the floor and the music their quick, determined movements make fills my head with soft music. I wish Lucy could hear it too. She manages a few mouthfuls of her muffin.
“Yuk. Ninety-eight per cent sugar and probably artificial flavouring, full of chemicals.” She picks off a piece. “No sign of any real bananas. How can you eat this junk? Even the salads look gross here.” Lucy pushes the remaining muffin towards me.
There’s no way I can fit that in with what I’ve ordered although I’m all for the occasional artificial-banana-flavoured sugar hit.
Lucy stretches back in the chair. “I’m not in a hurry to go. I’d rather sit here in the green sunshine.”
“Suits me. Would you believe it if I said objects can have emotions?”
“Sure. Why not. If sunshine is green, then I guess it can be happy too.”
“Remember how I always say Shin’s photo in the Visitor Centre is sad? Synaesthesia is how I know and ever since Kenichi came to stay, anything to do with the Prisoner of War Camp or that photo physically affects me.”
“That’s why you fainted?”
I nod.
“What did you see? Was it something awful?” Her face is filled with worry.
“I saw the inmates getting ready to escape. Nothing scary. But it made me black out. So, do you think I’m crazy?”
“Of course not. You’ve been acting strange ever since Ken arrived. I thought it was because you liked him and wouldn’t admit it.”
“I told you I didn’t.”
“I know, but I could tell there was something funny going on between you two and now it all makes sense. What are you going to do? You can’t avoid the POW Camp history. Bits of it are everywhere.”
Lucy grimaces as I lick the tomato sauce from my fingers.
“That’s what Kenichi and I have been trying to work out. I am taking your advice about Nana Ruth and visiting her this afternoon. She might even be able to help.”
“I hope so. I’m glad you’re going to see her, but I’m still worried about you. I wish I could do something to help.”
“I have a feeling it will work out,” I say, encouragingly.
“Is that a synthie thing?”
“No. A gut thing.”
More like wishful thinking. But I don’t want to focus on that. I need to believe Kenichi and I can work it out.
I look at my watch. 10 am already. “We’ve been here almost an hour. We should be getting back or Mrs Royston will send out a search party.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? If there’s anything I can do to help, promise you’ll ask me.”
I nod.
As we walk out, I dump my leftover food with the packaging.
“You just made a major contribution to contaminating the environment.” Lucy looks disapprovingly at the pile of containers.
“I’ll plant a tree.”
It’s not an empty promise. Mum and I are always planting trees – plums and peaches in the orchard, gum trees along the road and a lemon-scented myrtle in the rockery. She looks up the sky. “I wish I could see green sunshine.”
I’m so lucky. Lucy is the best friend ever.
When we reach the Visitor Centre, Mrs Royston is waiting at the door.
“Just in time. I was going
to send someone to find you. Are you feeling better, Charlotte?”
“Heaps better.”
Kenichi is sitting with the bee girls. He gets up when he sees us.
“I told Lucy about the photo,” I say.
Kenichi smiles at her. I bet that fills her world with heaps of green sunshine.
“What happened?” he asks. “If there was no pain, why did you faint?”
“The room was spinning. It was scary, like being inside a hurricane. I saw the inmates getting ready to break out.”
“Was Shin there?”
I shiver, remembering.
“Yes, and when you touched my arm I could understand what they were saying, again. They were upset because they were being separated.”
“That’s how the trouble started. We’re so close. We’ll have this all worked out soon.”
“I hope so, because the voices sounded desperate, as if time was running out.”
“It is,” Lucy says. “This needs to be sorted before Ken goes home.”
“I know. I’m hoping Nana Ruth can help. I forgot to tell you this morning, Kenichi, we’re going to see her this afternoon after school.”
“I’m glad you could convince your mum to change her mind. I have some news to share too,” he says.
His tone has already told us it’s not good news.
“While you were at McDonald’s, Miss Beadle rang. Her friend couldn’t match my great-grandfather’s photo to any of the unnamed airmen.” He scrunches his worksheet into a ball. “The War Cemetery would’ve been a good place for him to wait for his family, surrounded by comrades and elm trees. Instead, it’s as if he never existed.” He slams his fist into the paper ball.
“Not every bit of information finds its way into a museum or historical society. I bet there’s lots of things people keep secret until eventually they spill them to the right person,” I say, looking at Lucy, remembering what a relief it was to finally share my secrets.
I don’t know how to comfort Kenichi but, fortunately, Lucy rescues me.
“I’m confused. Was your great-grandfather at the Camp?” she asks.
“No. He was a pilot. When his plane crashed, he might have been the first Japanese serviceman to die on Australian soil. My family wants to know where he is buried so they can bring his remains home. I’ve been trying to find out while I’m here.”
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