Cherry Blossom Baseball

by Jennifer Maruno

  At first, Michiko planned to pound on the front door and demand that Carolyn give the cat back, but her resolve faded as she leaned her bike against one of the trees in the boulevard. It was only a hunch. She decided to look in the backyard and walked to the gate at the side of the large stone house and gave it a push. It swung open with a loud creak. Michiko held her breath as she followed the walkway calling out to the cat in a soft voice. Just as she searched a large flower garden, a voice from the back porch said, “You know that you’re trespassing, don’t you?”

  Michiko straightened her back and turned to face Carolyn.

  Carolyn rose from a garden chair wearing white shorts and shirt. She held a tennis racket.

  Michiko stepped up to the porch. “If you took that cat,” she said, “ I will ... I will ...” She faltered, trying to think of a terrible fate. “I will KAMIKAZE you.”

  “Daddy,” Carolyn called out in a shrill voice. “Daddy, I need you.”

  The back door to the house flew open and a woman appeared. “Your father is on the phone,” she said in an irritated manner. “What’s the matter now?”

  “There’s a strange girl in our backyard,” Carolyn cried out. “She’s threatening to hurt me.”

  The woman stepped out on to the porch.

  “Hello, Mrs. Leahey,” Michiko said in her most polite voice. “I’m in Carolyn’s class at school. I guess she couldn’t tell because the sun was in her eyes.”

  The woman took a step closer to get a better look at Michiko. She looked at Carolyn and then at Michiko. “Why are you in our backyard?

  “I was looking for my brother’s cat,” Michiko replied. She looked directly at Carolyn and said, “I thought she might have gotten into your yard by accident.”

  “Your cat?” the woman said. “Carolyn said it was a stray. I’m allergic to cats, so she took it to the pound. It’s not far from here.”

  Michiko thanked her and went toward the gate. Just as she lifted the latch, she heard a plaintive mew. It came from the garden shed at the back of the property.

  Carolyn ran to the shed, but Michiko got to it first and opened the door. “Here, kitty, kitty,” she called in a soft voice.

  Mrs. Morrison, the black and white cat with its distinctive milk drop marking, came toward her, mewing softly. She looked scared. Michiko picked her up, took a deep breath, and turned to face Carolyn.

  “How could you steal a little boy’s cat?” she asked. “How could anyone be so mean?”

  Carolyn gave a shrug, but her smirk faded as her mother approached. “You told me you took that cat to the pound,” she said.

  Michiko unlatched the gate with one hand, cradling the cat with the other. “Carolyn says a lot of things, Mrs. Leahey,” she said, “most of which are not true.” Then she ran to her bike, placed the cat in the basket, and pedalled away.

  The fielder for the Seaway Seagulls ran for the ball, but not knowing whether to throw it to first or home, hesitated and threw it home. The catcher had expected a throw to first and was not at the plate. The ball dropped and rolled toward the pitcher’s mound. The pitcher scrambled to pick it up, but Michiko, who was on third, made it to the home plate, winning the game 7–6.

  “We’re going to get those hats!” Billy yelled. “We’re in first place!”

  Michiko grimaced from the thumps her teammates gave her on the back.

  The apple trees stood in fields of wheat-coloured summer grass dotted with lacy white flowers. School finished with the excitement of upcoming Dominion Day celebrations on July 1. There was to be a parade of servicemen, tug of war, sack races, and a huge game of bingo for the adults.

  Michiko suggested to Tony that he strike a deal with her father. He could help with the farm work in exchange for lessons in woodworking. Sam and Tony made a good team both in the field and shed. But they both insisted on one thing. No one was to see what they were doing until the boxes were done, except for Mr. Takahashi, who was allowed to inspect at any time.

  “We should do something special for Dominion Day,” Michiko suggested to her mother.

  “What do you have in mind?” her mother asked.

  Michiko looked over at her little sister sleeping on the blanket in the shade. She remembered a picnic under a cherry tree, before they were forced to leave Vancouver, before Kaz met Sadie, before Hannah was born. “It’s been a long, long time since we had a picnic.”

  Michiko’s mother lowered the stick she was using to beat the rug on the clothesline. “We’ll see,” was all she said.

  In the shade of a tree, Mr. Palumbo patted his breast pocket to find his pipe. He bent forward to shield the flame of his match from the breeze until the smoke escaped from the corner of his mouth. Then he settled on top of a turned-up crate to enjoy the day off. The two families had gathered to celebrate Dominion Day, but more importantly, the completion of Tony’s woodworking project.

  A wooden trestle table held the remnants of a summer feast. Michiko’s contribution was a plate of the crispy marshmallow squares from Mary’s party. To her surprise, the recipe was on the back of their new box of cereal, and using her berry money, she’d purchased a bag of marshmallows to surprise them all.

  That wasn’t the only surprise she planned to reveal. Her Uncle Kaz’s latest letter waited in her blue box in her bedroom. It was short, but so important that Michiko decided it was time to share it with her parents.

  Everyone admired Sam’s small, polished maple chest. A tiny heart-shaped lock dangled from the front clasp. Her father stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a key attached to a length of string. “Little brothers are nosy,” he said to her with a wink as he handed her the key.

  Before Tony revealed the large box under the blanket, he cleared his throat and said, “After I show the box to the man in Toronto, it will be a gift for my mamma.”

  Mrs. Palumbo looked about and smiled. Michiko knew she didn’t quite understand what was going on. She had seen that look on faces in the camp when English was spoken too fast.

  He lifted the blanket with a flourish, and everyone gasped.

  Rectangular in shape, with deep carvings on the front, it reminded Michiko of the kind of chest that carried treasure.

  Sam pointed out the large dovetail corner joints and then raised the lid to reveal a second set of iron hinges inside.

  Tony lifted out the fitted top tray and passed it to Mr. Palumbo for his approval.

  Mr. Palumbo gripped the edge of the pipe in his teeth as he examined it.

  Mrs. Palumbo ran her hands across the carvings with a grin.

  “A very solid, well-crafted piece,” Eiko said as she examined the box. “Good for you.”

  Back at the house, Michiko emptied her blue box and placed her grandfather’s letters, tied with red ribbon, back inside. Then she set four packets of letters out on the kitchen table.

  “You have been busy,” her mother commented. “I thought you wrote to three soldiers.”

  “The fourth soldier is a very, very, very, special one,” Michiko said as she pulled the thin blue paper from its envelope to read the last part of his most recent letter out loud. “When you hear it you will know why.”

  Congratulate me! I have been promoted to the rank of sergeant. You would think we would all be sent home now that the war is over, but we are needed now more than ever for what is called clean-up work. There is a chance I will get posted to Hong Kong as a member of the Canadian Intelligence Corps. Please keep in touch with your aunt. I know she will be lonely in Toronto.

  Kaz

  “You have been writing to Kaz?” her mother asked in surprise.

  “All servicemen like mail,” Michiko said. She paused for a moment and said, “It’s really hard for them to be far away from their family and friends.” She put the letter back into the envelope and placed it on top of his stack.

  Her mother usually held back on her conversation until her father put down his chopsticks, but this time she spoke just as he filled his mouth. “You need t
o go with him.”

  “With who?”

  “Antonio,” she said, “when he shows his box to the furniture store owner.”

  “He doesn’t need me, he’s a big boy.” Sam scowled and resumed eating.

  “He will need help carrying it,” Michiko said. “And your little box would fit inside.”

  Her father put his chopsticks down. “Leave Mr. Downey?”

  “There will be plenty of men looking for work now that the war is over,” Eiko said. She walked to him and placed her hand over his. “You gave up baseball for your family; don’t give up woodworking. You know you love that more than planting bulbs.”

  Sam brushed her hand away, his eyes only half-rising from the table. Then he stood and headed for the door.

  “Someone who stands behind a wall can see nothing else,” Eiko said to his back.

  But he did not respond.

  That night, Tony knocked on Michiko’s bedroom window. She wrapped her tiny tansu in a towel and passed it out to him.

  The next morning, when Mr. Palumbo helped Tony carry his treasure box to the Greyhound bus stop, Tony and Michiko exchanged a secret smile.

  “So my dad says,” Billy said, “why would I want to sell my farm? It’s been in my family for generations.” He wound up for a pitch and threw the battered baseball that the coach had given them toward Michiko. “Do you know what Mr. Leahey says?”

  Michiko shook her head as she caught the ball.

  Billy put his hands on his hips. “Leahey says my father will end up owning the only farm for miles, because everyone else is taking advantage of the war being over, selling up, and moving on with their lives.” He caught the return ball, and the two of them took steps back.

  “What did your dad say?”

  Billy broke into a huge smile. “That’s good, I’ll have lots of business,” but he didn’t throw the ball as the two swerved their heads to see to who was coming down the lane.

  A man in a brown uniform, with khaki puttees topping his highly polished boots, bicycled toward them in the middle of the afternoon. Under his large, peaked cap, a pencil stuck out from behind his ear. He leaned his bike against the maple tree and headed for Mr. Downey’s front door. There he held out a flimsy yellow envelope. Michiko watched what happened next. She had seen the Western Union man deliver telegrams before, and it usually was bad news.

  To her surprise, Mr. Downey stepped out and accompanied the man to their front door. “Eiko?” he called out as the man waited at his side.

  Michiko and Billy ran to see what was going on.

  “It’s a telegram,” her mother said. “For your father.”

  “Who is it from?” Billy asked.

  “Good news or bad, it will be shared after dinner,” Eiko said, propping it up front of the sugar bowl.

  Later, Michiko stood beside her father as he sliced the telegram open with a kitchen knife and read aloud.

  Got job (stop)

  Offer for my teacher too(stop)

  Tony(stop)

  Still holding the knife, Sam sank back into his chair. “I can’t go till the end of the season.”

  “And I can’t leave until the end of the baseball season,” Michiko chimed in. She put her arm around her mother’s waist. “I could stay and take care of Father. This time, you could go ahead and get everything settled.”

  Her mother rose from the table and picked up Hannah. “Surely Sadie would be able to find us a place in Toronto,” she said.

  “I don’t even know where this place is,” Sam muttered as he stuffed the telegram back into its envelope.

  “I do,” Michiko called out as she raced to her bedroom. She pulled the worn, folded advertisement from her little blue box. Why didn’t I notice that before? she wondered. The box is the same colour as Eddie’s eyes. She could use it for his letters when they moved to Toronto.

  The names of the Japanese families are changed, but the people involved in Michiko’s story are quite real. My mother-in-law, Eiko Kitagawa Maruno, allowed me to explore her life through personal photographs and memories. To better understand the family’s experience in the internment camp of New Denver, my husband and I travelled through the Kootenay Mountains to the Nikkei Internment Memorial Centre.

  Special thanks goes to Eiko’s very good friend, Pat Adachi, whose father took her to all the Japanese baseball games, where she happily munched peanuts. Her published books, Asahi Legends and The Road to the Pinnacle, about the famed Asahi baseball teams, provided me with valuable information. These British Columbia teams are now honoured in the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame.

  The Canadian Army Language School opened in Vancouver, British Columbia, in August 1943. The British Army needed men who could speak Japanese for service in Burma. Thirty-one Nisei swore allegiance to the King and enlisted in the Canadian Army. They were all sent to No. 20 Basic Infantry Training Camp at Brantford, Ontario. The Nisei were kept together as a platoon in B Company.

  Early in 1945, Canada began to prepare a special force for the invasion of Japan, and Major Aiso visited the first Nisei group in basic training in Brantford to administer language tests to fifty-two recruits. From Brantford they went to Vancouver to attend the Canadian Army Japanese Language School. They were able to graduate from the twelve-month course in eight weeks, promoted to the rank of sergeant, and went overseas as members of the Canadian Intelligence Corps. By the time they reached the British Intelligence Corps in India, the war was over, but they were needed for clean-up work. Roy Ito’s book, We Went to War, and the reports of Lt. W.H. Agnew, were valuable resources.

  Pete Gray was not a publicity stunt. Named MVP in 1944, he batted .333, with 68 stolen bases.

  The article about the All-American Girls Professional Baseball told the story of the Rockford Peaches, Fort Wayne Girls Club, South Bend Blue Sox, Kenosha Comets, Grand Rapids Chicks, Racine Belles, Anastasia Batikis, Annabelle Lee, Faye Dancer, Mary “Bonnie” Baker, and others. It appeared on page 63 of the sports section in Life magazine on June 4, 1945. I let Michiko read it two months earlier for the purpose of this novel; one bit of artistic license.

  The Kellogg’s Rice Krispies Marshmallow Treats recipe, first advertised in 1940, became a popular food for mailing to service people abroad.

  It wasn’t until January 2, 1945, that Canadian citizens of the Japanese race were freed from all federal or army supervision and allowed to go back to their homes. Having travelled so far from Vancouver, my husband’s family did not consider returning, making Ontario their permanent home.

  On September 22, 1988, Prime Minister Brian Mulroney attempted to right the wrongs of the internment with a formal apology and compensation for losses. His government also funded the Canadian Race Relations Foundation to ensure this would not happen again in our democratic country.

  I am grateful to Sylvia McConnell for accepting my first manuscript, When the Cherry Blossoms Fell, which began The Cherry Blossom Series, and Allister Thompson with the editing process. Thanks also go to the team at Dundurn Press.

  Sylvia McNicoll welcomed me to her writing group when I first moved to Burlington. Twice a month, Sylvia, Gisela Sherman, Amy Corbin, Claire Carver-Dias, Deborah Serravalle, Jim Bennett, Rory and Janice D’Eon, Chelsey Rainford, Steve Donnelly, and Sue Williams met. Thank you for running the bases with me.

  To Stan, David, Erin, and Phil, I thank you for your never-ending support.

  Japanese vocabulary in order of appearance in the story

  cha

  tea

  Yokohama

  a large Japanese city

  tokonoma

  alcove for flower arrangements

  origami

  Japanese paper folding

  hakujin

  Caucasians or white people

  sashimi

  extremely sharp knife for slicing raw fish

  yancha

  naughty

  Nisei

  of the second generation

  Issei

  of the first
generation

  kaibutsu

  monster

  bok choy

  Chinese cabbage

  nappa

  Japanese cabbage

  tofu

  bean cake

  shoyu

  soya sauce

  miso

  fermented bean paste

  arigato

  thank you

  Itadakimasu

  standard words given before a meal: I humbly receive

  taiko

  drumming

  odori

  dancing

  Kamikaze

  name given to suicide pilots in the Second World War

  jidosha

  car

  yakyu

  baseball

  kami

  god or divine spirit

  kaze

  breeze or wind

  nori

  toasted seaweed

  chawanmushi

  egg custard

  yakitori

  grilled on a skewer

  kairanban

  homemade newspaper or bulletin

  hanten

  housecoat

  furoshiki

  bundle made by tying four corners of a cloth square

  tansu

  hope chest

  ronin

  masterless warrior

  shogun

  general of/head of samurai government

  mochi

  Japanese rice cakes