The Fences Between Us

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The Fences Between Us Page 16

by Kirby Larson


  DeeDee —

  At lunch break, we could smell the fish from the dining hall from a block away. We didn’t even bother going in.

  Saturday, February 13, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Somehow word got around about me and my camera. I was busy all afternoon taking photos of different families. I was especially proud of the one of Mrs. Tokita with little Kenji. Who isn’t so little anymore! He says complete sentences. After I took their picture, he said, “Picture for Papa.” Mrs. Tokita’s eyes welled up and she gave him a hug. “Yes. We will certainly send this picture to Papa.”

  Little Kenji is growing up so fast. It must be tough on Mr. Tokita not to be here to see that.

  Sunday, February 14, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Margie and Stan’s first anniversary. I hope it’s their last one apart. We called her to wish her a happy anniversary. She said Stan was still training in England but that he’d heard a rumor they’d need their sea legs soon. I asked her why an Army guy needed sea legs and she just sighed. “I think that means he’s going to be shipped somewhere,” she said. “But I have no idea where. And even if he knew, he couldn’t tell me. It wouldn’t get past the censors.”

  The Men’s Quartet sang at church. It was a nice change from Miss McCullough’s piano pounding, that’s for sure. When they sang, “It Is Well with My Soul,” I saw Mrs. Harada dab at her eyes with her handkerchief. I’m sure it’s hard for her to feel any-thing’s well with her soul, with Mr. Harada still in Fort Missoula. I gave her an extra big hug when church let out.

  Later, the Quartet rehearsed for a performance at a Civic Club meeting in Milner Heights next month. The only song they sang that I didn’t like was Glenn Miller’s “Wishing.” The boys sang it fine; it wasn’t that. But the words were hard to swallow: “Wishing will make it so; just keep on wishing and care will go.”

  If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past few months, it’s that you can wish all you want and it doesn’t change one thing.

  Wednesday, February 17, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Pop has been writing even more letters than usual. When I ask what’s up, he says it’s work. Reports, that sort of thing.

  Ministers are very bad liars.

  Saturday, February 20, 1943

  DeeDee —

  The sun was bright and the sky blue today but it was gloomy at the camp.

  Pop and I didn’t get there until nearly suppertime and that’s when we heard the news.

  Three hundred Nisei from Minidoka did it. They enlisted.

  And one of them was Jim.

  Mrs. Sato’s eyes were red from crying, but Betty was hopping mad. “He promised me he wouldn’t. You were there, Piper. He promised.” She slapped the table so hard, her silverware bounced.

  I didn’t know what to say. “He must think it’s pretty important, to break a promise like that.”

  Betty sniffed. “There’s nothing important enough! Nothing.”

  I got up from the table and brought her back a cup of tea. “Drink this.”

  She took a few sips. “He thinks it will make a difference in the way we’ll be treated. But it won’t. It won’t.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “Not that I’m trying to defend Jim or anything —”

  “Good,” Betty said. “You’d better not.”

  “But I was just thinking about Dean. You know. The guy from the sugar beet harvest? Working with Jim changed his mind about the Japanese.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe having Nisei in the Army will help. Maybe it will change things.”

  Betty stared into her teacup. “Then all I’ve got to say is that it had better change things. Big time.”

  I hoped so, too.

  Tuesday, February 23, 1943

  DeeDee —

  I know something’s up. I get the mail every day and twice now there have been letters from Washington, D.C.

  I sure hope Pop’s not planning to move there.

  Friday, February 26, 1943

  DeeDee —

  The sun was out today for the arrival of the Bainbridge Island Japanese. They’d been at Manzanar but wanted to be here, at Minidoka, with the other Japanese from our state. Mrs. Harada painted a welcome sign that the first graders carried, and a bunch of us hooted and hollered to them as soon as they got inside the gate.

  They sure timed it right. The mud’s almost all dried up.

  Monday, March 1, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Got a telegram from John — he popped the question and Donna said yes! I think it’s swell he found someone to love but I wondered if it would be hard for her, with him missing an arm and all. I asked Pop about it. He said everybody’s missing something—a knack for numbers or remembering names or even patience. “John’s no different than the rest of us except for the fact that he can’t hide what he’s missing.”

  Pop had a point. I mean, look at Mr. Crofton. There was no way to tell by looking at him that he was down a quart in the milk of human kindness.

  Wednesday, March 3, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Pop got a call from the chairwoman of the Milner Heights Civics Club. Her members “object” to a Japanese Quartet singing at their club meeting. Pop told her the Quartet was disbanding anyway, because two of its members had volunteered for the Army.

  She didn’t have much to say after that.

  Friday, March 5, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Mystery solved about all Pop’s letters back and forth to Washington, D.C. He’s been trying to volunteer for the Army! And he didn’t tell me. Miss McCullough accidentally spilled the beans when she came over to fix supper tonight.

  “I have to say I’m very thankful the church sees what an important job your father is doing here,” she said as she cut up carrots for the stew.

  “Was there some kind of problem?” I ate one of the carrot chunks she’d cut.

  “No. No. It’s just that your father was so persistent —” She stopped in mid-chop, a panicked expression on her face. “He hasn’t told you?”

  “Told me what?” I said.

  She sighed. “I’m so sorry I spoke out of turn. You’d best ask him about it.” And that is all I could get out of her.

  I pounced on Pop the minute he walked in the door. “Is there something you’ve been meaning to tell me?”

  It all came out. He had volunteered for the 442nd, to serve as their chaplain.

  “You mean, you’d leave me here?” I asked. “All alone?”

  He shook his head. “I would’ve sent you home to Margie. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Anyway, it’s water under the bridge because the church higher-ups won’t let me go. They think I can do more good here.”

  Sometimes I think my pop cares more about “doing good” for the Japanese than he does for his own daughter. Sure, I want to go home to Seattle. But not if it means Pop’s off in a war somewhere.

  Good golly. You’d think my own father could figure that out for himself.

  Saturday, March 6, 1943

  DeeDee —

  It seemed like everyone turned out today to start work on the project farm. Betty and I helped Mrs. Tokita in the kids’ Victory garden. Mikey and Tommy looked like someone had tried to plant them by the time we were done. I don’t know how those two can get so dirty!

  At lunchtime, Jim brought Betty and me some tea and the three of us looked out over the camp’s big Victory garden, the one the adults were planting. I thought of what Jim had said the day of Mr. Matsui’s memorial, when we looked out over the sagebrush-dotted desert.

  “It is going to be beautiful,” I said.

  He knew right away what I was talking about and he smiled and said, “I told you so.”

  Monday, March 8, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Miss McCullough is going to stay with me for a few days while Pop goes on a business trip. He’s being very mysterious again. Thank goodness, he’s got that chaplain stuff out of his system.

>   Tuesday, March 9, 1943

  DeeDee —

  I had to promise not to tell Pop, but Miss McCullough taught me how to play poker! We play for bobby pins. I’m losing.

  I never knew that Miss McCullough was so much fun.

  Thursday, March 11, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Pop got home late tonight. He looked tired but happy. I’d learned enough from playing poker to guess he had good news.

  But he was playing his cards close to his chest.

  Friday, March 12, 1943

  DeeDee —

  In Core class, I whispered to Betty that Pop was acting strange. She said maybe he’d fallen madly in love with Miss McCullough and had decided to propose.

  That got us both laughing so hard we got in trouble with the teacher.

  Sunday, March 14, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Margie called. She was feeling lonesome. She hadn’t heard from Stan in a while. “I guess that means he’s on the move to his next assignment. But it would be good to hear.”

  I told her about Jim enlisting. She clicked her tongue. “That’ll be tough for his mom.”

  “Do you think it will make things better? Them being in the Army?” I asked.

  “Kiddo, if I knew the answer to that, I’d be richer than Midas.” Margie sighed into the phone.

  “It should, shouldn’t it?” I said.

  “You’ve got that right,” Margie said. “You’ve got that right.”

  Thursday, March 18, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Miss McCullough and I made cupcakes, which I carried to school in two shoe boxes.

  “Have you been shopping?” Betty teased when she saw them.

  “Not likely, with the shoe rationing,” I answered. It was hard to keep from grinning. Betty would get quite the surprise out of what was in my boxes.

  “Smells like vanilla,” Jim said as we started off for school.

  “Uh.” I had to think fast. “I dabbed some behind my ears this morning. Pretend perfume,” I said.

  “Girls.” Jim rolled his eyes.

  Just after lunch — hot dogs and sauerkraut again — in Core class, I opened the boxes.

  Some of the other kids in the class knew what was up and they joined right in singing “Happy Birthday” to Betty.

  The teacher even let me light a candle on Betty’s cupcake. “Make a wish,” I said. She blew it out.

  “What did you wish?” one kid asked.

  Betty got a wistful look on her face. “If I tell, it won’t come true.”

  But I think we all knew what she’d wished for.

  Saturday, March 20, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Pop’s secret is no longer secret. I got woken up a bit ago by the Blue Box’s headlights in my bedroom window. I’ve gotten used to people coming and going at the Davis “hotel.” Even though Pop and the mystery guests were keeping it pretty quiet, there was something familiar about the voices I was hearing.

  I tiptoed to the landing …

  and burst into tears when I saw who was there, flying down the stairs to throw myself into Mr. Harada’s arms. His face was scratchy from needing a shave but I didn’t mind one bit. Then I greeted Mr. Sato and Mr. Tokita.

  “How did this happen?” I pulled Mr. Harada to sit on the couch and sat next to him.

  “Your father is very persistent,” Mr. Sato said.

  “And the authorities are coming to their senses,” Pop added. “Not one of the men they’ve taken to Fort Missoula has been found to be guilty of anything.”

  “Except being Japanese,” Mr. Tokita said.

  They were quiet for a moment but then I couldn’t stand it. “Wait until you see little Kenji. He chatters like a blue jay!” That got them all laughing.

  “We’re going to make a surprise delivery to camp tomorrow,” Pop said. “Be sure to bring your camera.”

  I said I would. I didn’t want to miss these reunions for anything.

  Sunday, March 21, 1943

  DeeDee —

  I had nearly turned inside out with excitement by the time the Blue Box was loaded with its “special deliveries” and we were headed to camp.

  We got to church plenty early. Mr. Harada, Mr. Sato, and Mr. Tokita sat on the pews. I don’t know how they could sit still. I was so excited I couldn’t get settled anywhere. Would it be best to take photos from the back of the room? From the side? I could hardly think straight.

  Finally, the wooden door creaked open. As always, Mrs. Harada was one of the first to arrive. She looked first at Pop, then at the three men, throwing her arms open. Mr. Harada moved toward her stiffly, giving me enough time to frame the shot. I think I caught them just as they came together in a warm embrace. I could barely see through my viewfinder, my eyes were so full of tears.

  Mrs. Tokita and Kenji stepped in to the church hall next, hand in hand. When she saw her husband she picked Kenji up and ran. Kenji pushed away from his father at first, crying “No man. No man.”

  Mrs. Harada said, “He’ll remember. He will.”

  When Mikey and Tommy saw Mr. Sato, they were like two little rockets launching into his arms. I’ve never heard so much laughing and crying.

  It was the best church service I’ve ever been to in my life.

  Monday, March 22, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Betty and Jim stayed home from school today to get caught up with their dad. Jim hasn’t told him yet about enlisting. But he’ll have to soon.

  Saturday, March 27, 1943

  DeeDee —

  The Satos got a camp pass so Pop and I drove them into Twin Falls. Mr. Sato’s coat was worn to threads; that was all he’d had to keep him warm in the bitter Montana cold. After the shopping, we all went to the café—not Mr. Crofton’s but the other one—and had hot roast beef sandwiches and lemon meringue pie.

  It felt like Christmas.

  Maybe better.

  Monday, March 29, 1943

  DeeDee —

  It’s a triple whammy of rationing: Now we’ll have coupon books for meat, cheese, and butter. Good thing the camp plans to raise pigs and chickens. That will help.

  Friday, April 2, 1943

  DeeDee —

  John called long-distance to speak with Pop. Turns out he wants us to come to Minnesota in June for the wedding. And he wants Pop to do the ceremony. I thought Pop would say he was too busy but he said yes, that we’ll swing it somehow.

  Who would’ve thought John’s story would have such a fairy-tale ending?

  Tuesday, April 6, 1943

  DeeDee —

  I’ve taken down the calendar in my bedroom but there’s still the one on the wall in our classroom. Now it’s only 25 days until Jim leaves.

  With every day that passes, Betty gets quieter and quieter.

  Saturday, April 10, 1943

  DeeDee —

  Betty was in a complete funk today. I couldn’t cheer her up with a Sky Bar. Not even when I offered her a whole one all for herself!

  I knew what it was. Jim and all the other guys who volunteered for the 442nd take their physicals today. The line outside the hospital snaked all the way up to Block 7, practically.

  “Hey, have you thought that he might not pass the physical?” I said.

  “He’s too darned healthy.” Betty rested her chin on her hands.

  I thought about that. Even when the rest of the families got colds last winter, Jim stayed healthy as a horse. Not even one sniffle. I was thinking so hard, I didn’t even realize I was eating the Sky Bar. “Maybe they won’t take him because he wears glasses,” I said.

  Her face brightened for a split second. But just for a second. “Stan wears glasses and the Army took him.” She grabbed the rest of the candy bar from me and took a big bite. It was the caramel part, the one she hates.

  But she was so worried about Jim she didn’t even seem to notice.

  Monday, April 12, 1943

  DeeDee —

  We hit the jackpot today! A whol
e bunch of Hank’s letters came at once. Of course, they’re all from weeks ago so we don’t know how he is this very minute — or where he is! — but reading his words brings comfort all the same. He’s still jazzed about learning as much about planes as he can. “I’m saving my pennies to take flying lessons when I get home,” he said. I loved reading those words: “when I get home.”

  He said he’d heard about Jim. He wondered how Betty was taking it.

  I wrote back: “How do you think Betty’s taking it? He’s her big brother.”

  Friday, April 16, 1943

  DeeDee —

  I keep pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. But there’s the telegram right there on the kitchen table. Hank’s coming home!

 

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