Different Days

by Vicki Berger Erwin

  Had the FBI suspected that Papa was using his radios against his country?

  Rosie stepped away from the radio shop, and as she looked up and down the street wondering where to go next, a sudden whine filled the air—the wavering tones of an air raid siren. Rosie panicked. What to do? Where to hide?

  Chapter 14

  At Aunt Yvonne’s when the sirens blared, she had them huddle in the downstairs hallway, complaining until the all clear sounded and they could return to bed or to whatever they’d been doing. So far, the sirens had been drills only.

  Here, people rushed by, all headed in one direction toward the far end of the street and what she only could imagine was a shelter.

  Was this a drill or was it again the “real McCoy”? As Rosie tried to decide where to go, a boy who looked to be around her age grabbed her hand and pulled her into the flow of people running.

  “Don’t just stand there,” he said.

  “I don’t know where …” Rosie tried to pull her hand out of his grip.

  “There’s a shelter at the end of the street,” he said as they joined the crush of people, shoppers and shopkeepers, flowing down a set of cement steps.

  Once at the bottom, the boy continued to move Rosie along through the press of people filling the tunnel until he found a bare space and pressed himself against the wall. Rosie remained where they’d stopped until he pushed her back beside him. “It’s a drill,” he said into her ear. “But if one of the wardens finds you standing in the open, you could be in big trouble.”

  “You’re sure it’s a drill?” Rosie said, her throat dry. Under the ground as they were, the mixed scents of the crowd’s perfumes and body odors on top of the mustiness made her feel slightly sick.

  The boy nodded. “Did you see any airplanes?”

  Rosie tried to remember and couldn’t recall seeing—or hearing—a thing beyond the siren.

  “I’m Kam,” he said. “Are you new around here?”

  “The radio shop—” she began, then cut off her words. No need to tell anyone that the shop belonged to her dad, although she immediately felt guilty for keeping it a secret, as if she was ashamed. “I was shopping,” Rosie mumbled.

  “What’s your name?” Kam asked.

  “Rosie,” she said quietly.

  “I love this long vacation from school. Don’t you? I mean, except for the war and everything.”

  Rosie nodded, although being at Aunt Yvonne’s didn’t feel much like a vacation.

  “My auntie that I live with used to make leis for the tourists. Now she weaves nets to camouflage the buildings. I run errands for her and the rest of the aunties. It’s something to do and they pay me,” he said with a grin. “Do your folks work around here?”

  Rosie shook her head, again ashamed she didn’t have the nerve to be honest.

  Kam slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Rosie joined him, finding the cement floor damp against her legs and bottom.

  “I guess there aren’t a lot of tourists wanting leis these days,” Rosie said to keep the conversation going and to keep her mind off what could be happening above ground, if it wasn’t a drill.

  “There are still some tourists here, left behind since the boats are afraid to make the trip back to the mainland. And there are the soldiers, more every day. I mean, I’m with my auntie because my dad is stranded on the mainland and hasn’t been able to make it back to the islands. He travels a lot.”

  “That must be awful! For the people stranded here and for your dad.”

  “But they are a part of history,” said Kam, tapping his foot. “All of us here are.”

  Rosie shrugged.

  “Just like my auntie tells me over and over about the day Liliuokalani stepped down from ruling the islands and turned them over to the United States, we’ll be telling our kids and grandkids about December 7, a date which will live in infamy.”

  Rosie had never thought that far into the future when she considered the bombing. All she knew was that it led to her parents being taken away from her.

  The all clear sounded and Kam stood up, brushing the back of his shorts. Rosie stood and smoothed her skirt.

  “This shelter is much better than having to dive into one of the ditches that they’ve dug for people to jump into when there is an air raid,” Kam said. “Do you have a shelter where you live?”

  Rosie shook her head. Aunt Yvonne said she’d had to ruin the inside of her house with blackout curtains, and she didn’t intend to ruin the outside by digging up her flowers for ditches that wouldn’t keep them safe from anything anyway. Rosie agreed with her about the ditches.

  “I didn’t say—I-I never said thank you,” Rosie stammered. “For showing me the way down here.” And keeping my mind off the possibility of bombs falling all around remained unsaid.

  “Hey, I wouldn’t want to see you carted off to the pokey.” Kam punched her lightly on the arm. “C’mon, I’ll show you the way back. Were you going to buy a radio or something from that old German? I hope you weren’t expecting to pick up one you left for repair!”

  Rosie didn’t like how he spoke of her father, dismissing him as an “old German.” Kam didn’t even know him. “That ‘old German’ is my father and that is his shop,” she finally summoned the courage to admit. “He’s the radio king of Hawaii.”

  “Oops. Sorry, I didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty.” Kam bowed. “And I guess he wasn’t that old.” He grinned at her.

  It was hard for Rosie not to smile back, so she gave in.

  They reached the street and the sun almost blinded Rosie. She blinked her eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness.

  “My auntie saw the government men take him away. What did he do?” Kam asked, holding Rosie’s arm as she tried to walk away.

  This was why she didn’t want Kam to know she was connected to the shop. How to answer? So many thoughts were mixing around in her head. Finally, she decided to be honest.

  “Nothing! He did nothing! At first I thought maybe they took him to help translate something in German, but now, after seeing his shop empty, I wonder if the radios have something to do with his …” she faltered, “detainment.”

  Kam nodded, looking thoughtful. “They took a bunch of Japs away too,” he offered. “Maybe they thought your dad was broadcasting information to Germany, Hitler even, on one of the radios.”

  Rosie jerked her arm away and faced Kam, her hands on her hips. Why had she opened herself to this boy she’d barely met? At least now she knew how people would react to news of her father and mother being taken away. Exactly the way she’d feared.

  “Radios are his business. They’re what he knows. I told you, he’s the radio king of Hawaii. And he would never be disloyal to America.”

  “Hey, I believe you,” said Kam.

  Did he? Rosie still wasn’t sure whether or not to trust the boy. But who else did she have to confide her suspicions to—S-U-S-P-I-C-I-O-N-S? Aunt Yvonne refused to discuss Mama and Papa. And Rainer, she knew better than to talk to him about anything.

  “But if it was the radios, why did they take my mama?” Rosie felt her throat tighten. “She barely knows how to turn on a radio.”

  “You know, we are all supposed to be on the lookout for spies. Maybe someone saw your father do something they didn’t understand and made a report to the FBI,” Kam said. “The FBI came and talked to the aunties one day. They see and hear all kinds of stuff. The men said they could make a report and not have to give their name if they didn’t want to. I imagine there are lots of reports being made these days, too many to look into too much,” said Kam.

  Aunt Etta had said the FBI was collecting reports of anything suspicious, but Rosie hadn’t realized until now that that meant citizens being asked to report anything suspicious. Had someone made a report to the FBI about Papa and his radios? If so, that person had certainly lied about Papa’s work and loyalty. Rosie took a deep breath and looked carefully at everyone passing by. The fact that any unknown person
could report that they suspected her Papa and Mama of doing something disloyal and that is likely what led to them being taken away by the government made her doubt everything she had learned in school about D-E-M-O-C-R-A-C-Y.

  “So, did your auntie think she saw something at my father’s shop?” Rosie asked.

  “They haven’t ever made a report on anything.”

  “Who would? Who does?” Rosie said.

  “Lots of people hate Germans these days. And they hate Japs even more,” Kam said.

  “Being German, just being German can’t be enough,” said Rosie. “And besides, Mama and Papa are American!” How many times would she have to say that before anyone believed her?

  Church bells rang out the hour and, startled, Rosie realized it was growing late. This trip had at least given her something to think about and to investigate—I-N-V-E-S-T-I-G-A-T-E. She needed to find out who would report on her mama and papa. And with all her heart and mind, Rosie knew whatever her parents had been accused of doing, they hadn’t done it.

  Rosie was hesitant to go. It felt good to talk to someone her own age. She turned toward the streetcar stop and saw a bus approaching.

  “If you’re ever back around here, just ask Auntie to give me a yell. She’ll be weaving nets and I’ll, well, I’ll be around.” Again, Kam grinned.

  Rosie waved as she ran to catch the streetcar. She sat back, breathless, and tried to sort her thoughts. By the time she reached Aunt Yvonne’s, she had convinced herself the radios were definitely connected to her papa’s detainment. Now all she had to do was figure out what to do next.

  She felt like Nancy Drew at the beginning of a case. It was a mystery for sure: the who, what, and why of her parents’ detainment. Rosie didn’t, however, believe it would be as easy for her as it was for Nancy to find out the answers.

  Rosie missed her journal. The first thing she would do when she reached Aunt Yvonne’s was find some more paper. Writing her thoughts always made them clearer.

  At the front door, she paused as ukulele music drifted down the steps. That couldn’t be Freddie!

  Rosie hurried upstairs and stood outside their bedroom door, listening. The melody was simple, but sounded pure Hawaiian, reminding her of soft breezes blowing through the trees and waves gently greeting them on a visit to the beach.

  Freddie looked up from the instrument when Rosie entered the bedroom. And it was only Freddie. “What? Where did you … ?”

  “Uncle Palu taught me. And I really miss the ukulele. And him.” Freddie laid the instrument on the bed beside him.

  “I didn’t know you played.”

  Freddie shrugged and slid off the bed, picking up the ukulele on the way. “I’ll put it back now.”

  “That was good, Freddie,” Rosie said.

  Freddie grinned. “I know.”

  Chapter 15

  Rosie knew it was wrong, but she found a blank spiral notebook in a drawer near the telephone and took it. She wrote:

  Dear Nancy Drew,

  I need your help. My parents were taken away and I want to know why. Here is a list of what I know:

  All of Papa’s radios, at home and at the shop, were taken

  Papa speaks with a German accent still

  We have a German name

  The FBI is collecting reports about suspicious activities that might hurt us in the war

  And here is a list of my questions:

  Who made the report?

  Why did someone make a report?

  And why Mama and Tante—she marked out Tante—Aunt Etta?

  Where? Where are they? If I could only see them to make sure they are all right.

  If Carson Drew were missing, what would you do first to find him? Don’t say “ask your friends and relatives” because they have no more idea where my parents are than I do! I went to the last place I knew Papa had gone and it is completely empty. If you’re up for a trip to Honolulu, I sure could use your help.

  Aloha, Rosie

  Now all she had to do was wait for Nancy to show up to help. Or Leilani. Surely she had received the letter by now! The two of them had always wanted to find a good mystery to solve and here was one. Rosie looked at her list. It might be too much for her.

  Rosie put down her pencil. She was hungry. Hopefully, Kealani had fixed their lunch. Aunt Yvonne had little imagination when it came to cooking. She missed Mama’s delicious German meals, as well as the tasty Hawaiian dishes Auntie Palu had taught her mother to cook.

  Rosie slowly walked down the stairs, humming a song Mama often played for the kinder in her school. She also missed those little rascals.

  “Rosie, is that you dear?” Aunt Yvonne called from the living room.

  Rosie leaned against the wall, “It’s me, Aunt,” she answered.

  “Come here for a moment. There’s someone you should meet.”

  As Rosie entered the living room a woman dressed in a faded dress and woven sandals sat up straighter in her corner of the sofa. Her aunt was going to actually let her talk to someone?

  “This Frau—I mean, Mrs. Launius. She has something for you. Something you will be very happy to receive,” Aunt Yvonne said in a soft voice, much softer than her normal tone.

  “Mrs. Launius, it is very nice to meet you,” Rosie said, standing tall in front of the woman.

  “You are as lovely as your mother described,” Mrs. Launius said in a heavily German accented voice.

  “You … you’ve talked to my mother?”

  Mrs. Launius nodded. “And she sent this. And please to know, this is the second try to send a note to her kinder. The first time was not secret.”

  Rosie grabbed the scrap of paper Mrs. Launius held out. It was folded into a tiny package and smelled of cigarettes. One side of the paper looked to be a printed laundry list. On the other side, she recognized her mother’s writing, very cramped.

  Rosie read eagerly, her heart beating quickly.

  My darlings, Papa, Etta, and I are fine. We are being held at Ft. Armstrong, in case no one has told you, as enemy aliens. Of course, we are neither alien nor enemy. George and Uncle Charles are working hard to obtain our release along with Etta’s. We will be so sad not to spend the holidays with you but know that Aunt Yvonne is taking good care of the both of you. Please mind her and help her by being mindful of the manners we have taught you. Soon, Lieblings, darlings, soon we will be together again to see our way through this ugly war. Papa and I love you very much.

  Mama and Papa were alive—Rosie felt as if a huge weight had lifted. They were alive—and at Fort Armstrong, whatever and wherever that was! Of course they loved her and Freddie, Rosie had never doubted that for a minute. She sat quietly, clutching the scrap of paper and letting Mama’s words warm her. She felt almost weak with the relief of knowing where they were and that someone was working to free them.

  “Can we visit them? Will you take a letter back to Mama?” she asked the visitor.

  “I cannot return,” Mrs. Launius’s voice broke. “I am on parole and cannot take the chance to return to the place I was interned.”

  Rosie glanced at Aunt Yvonne whose lips were pressed tightly together. “Don’t you have something to say to Mrs. Launius?” she prompted Rosie.

  “Thank you very, very much, Mrs. Launius. It’s the best present of all to have word from our mama and papa. I don’t even have enough words to tell you how good it is to know that they are alive and well,” said Rosie, feeling every word of gratefulness. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to share the note with Freddie?” She looked to her aunt for permission.

  “Of course.” Aunt Yvonne waved Rosie out of the room.

  Rosie would share the note with her brother, but not until bedtime. For now it was all hers. Lately, it had been difficult for her and Freddie to sleep, and hearing news of Mama and Papa might help the both of them. She sat on the bed and touched the note. Mama had also touched the paper and written the words on it. Rosie kissed it. She laid it back down and smoothed the wrinkles and
folds.

  In the hallway, she heard Rainer heading toward his room. Aunt Yvonne would never agree, but perhaps there was a way to convince her cousin to take her to Fort Armstrong.

  Rosie pushed open his door and leaned against it before he could slam it shut and turn on his radio—which had not been taken from her aunt’s house even though she was as German as Mama—so loud that it would be impossible for him to hear her.

  “What?” he asked grumpily.

  “I need a favor,” Rosie said.

  “No.” Rainer turned his back and tried to close the door but Rosie blocked it.

  “I want you to drive me to Fort Armstrong …”

  “Where the hell is Fort Armstrong?”

  “We can find that out as well. It’s where my mother and father are,” she added.

  “The answer is still no,” Rainer said.

  “Do you really not care if I tell your mother about Lily? It might be an accident that I ask whether Rainer’s girlfriend will be coming over during the holidays, but I’m sure it will bring up questions.”

  “And do you really want to be sent to an orphanage?”

  Rosie folded her arms and waited. Her cousin couldn’t scare her with that. She had made her threat and she was willing to carry it out to make Rainer do what she wanted. Her aunt would die if she knew Rainer was dating a Hawaiian girl.

  “I can’t show up someplace where Germans are interned,” Rainer said flatly.

  “You can wait in the car,” Rosie countered.

  “Mother is afraid we are under surveillance by the FBI and warned me to be careful. I don’t think going to check on German internees is being careful. I can’t do it.”

  Her cousin sounded like he was being honest for once. But Rosie wasn’t willing to let Rainer off so easily.

  “What if it was your parents or your mother who was interned?” she said.

  “That sounds pretty damn good to me,” said Rainer, smirking.

  “Okay.” Rosie shrugged. “I never could keep a secret.” She turned away, disappointed yet hopeful. Rainer could still change his mind. She walked away slowly.

  At her bedroom door, Rainer grabbed her arm. Rosie stifled her smile of triumph and turned, pulling her arm away.