by Jan Morrill
“Wait a minute,” Nobu said. “We aren’t spies. We’re Americans. Like I said, we’re from that camp a few miles down the road. Go ask. The guards will tell you.”
The leader poked his shotgun at Nobu. “Shut up! I know when something don’t smell right. Ain’t no need to go check with some guard ’bout what’s going on here.”
“You tell ’im, Howard,” one of his buddies said, eyes and gun still aimed at three of the boys.
A cocky grin swiped across Howard’s face. “Heh, heh. Pretty funny, ain’t it fellas? We come out here to hunt some deer, and what do we catch us instead? Japs.” He stared at Nobu with a cutting glare. “You don’t get it, do you? A Jap’s a Jap. It don’t matter if you’re spies, escapees, or even workers from that camp down yonder. It’s our duty as law-abiding citizens—red-blooded Americans—to take the enemy in.”
“What? You can’t be serious!” Nobu tossed his shovel to the ground.
Howard lunged his gun at Nobu. “I said, ‘shut-up!’”
Nobu tried to back away, but mud had hardened around one of his shoes, and he lost his balance. He fell into the cold mud, twisting his ankle before his foot dislodged from his shoe.
“Get up!” shouted Howard. “Boys, gather up the others. We’re taking them into town.”
Nobu got up and wiped his hands on his pant legs, staying focused on the gun Howard had pointed at him. How could this be happening? He was American. He had rights, too. When he stood, pain pierced through his ankle.
Howard pushed him toward the other internees. “This way.”
“I don’t think I can walk,” Nobu said.
“The hell you can’t. Don’t you be playing no games with me.”
“No. Really. I think I twisted it or broke it when I fell.”
“Don’t matter. You’re walking anyway.” Howard signaled to one of his buddies. “James Earl! Send one of your boys over here to help this pain-in-the-ass Jap walk.”
Kazu ran over.
“Hey, you!” Howard sneered at Kazu. “Your pal here says he needs some help walking.”
“You okay?” Kazu asked.
Nobu put his arm over his friend’s shoulder. “I twisted—”
“You two keep your mouths shut. Now git.” Howard shoved Kazu.
The group started down the road. Nobu assumed they were headed toward Rohwer. Two men walked on each side of the boys, guns positioned as though they expected an escape attempt at any moment.
Nobu’s ankle swelled and throbbed with each hobble. But his heart throbbed too, hard and fast; so full of anger he thought it might burst through his chest. The men and their shotguns marched the boys down the road like they were trophies or something. “You’ll be sorry,” he mumbled.
“Quiet, Nobu,” Kazu whispered.
“Oh, grow some balls,” he replied.
A fiery sunset cast long shadows onto the road. Mama expected him home before supper. He imagined her peeking from behind the curtain at the setting sun, knowing he should be home. Sachi would make Mama worry more, asking why he wasn’t home every fifteen minutes.
He should have listened to her warning. But no, he didn’t want to listen to her lately—or to anyone for that matter. He was the man of the family now. Nobody should tell him what to do. He knew best. Yeah, right.
They stopped and huddled in shadows that blended together as the blue-gray sky turned to black. The sun deserted them, sending a cold wind in its place. Its frigid fingers searched Nobu’s body for warmth, and stole what it found.
Howard lit a cigarette. “James Earl, you go on into town and bring back the sheriff. We’ll wait here.”
As Nobu recalled Mama’s warning—abunai—he wasn’t sure what it was that shuddered through him, the cold wind or fear.
Chapter 42
Sachi
October 15, 1942
Stones stacked, one by one
One day, two days, three days pass
Each a new surprise
Sachi walked out of the latrine, wiping her wet hands on her dress. She hated the public bathrooms more than anything else in the camp. Strange, the things she took for granted in her old life. Like privacy in the bathroom. Some of the women in camp covered their faces in the latrine, as if that would give them the privacy they needed.
She was bored already and it wasn’t even lunch time. Maybe she could go to the front gate, find that colored girl who had been hiding behind the tree when she’d arrived. Sachi had come to the entrance gate several times since arriving at Rohwer, looking for any sign of her. There was nothing else to do. It seemed like all she did was try to miss the mud puddles, but with little success. And the yucky mud was everywhere. Every night, Mama had to take her shoes from the porch step to clean the mud off, even though Sachi tried to tell her it was just a waste of time. They’d be dirty again the next day.
But Mama ignored her and cleaned them anyway.
Sachi had met a couple of girls her age, but they were boring. Besides, she still missed Sam an awful lot. It was so much more fun running around with him, looking for new adventures. And that had given them plenty of secrets to keep. The only secrets her new friends wanted to share were about each other.
So where was the colored girl who had waved to her? She had never had a Negro friend before. What did Negroes like to do anyway? Did they have dolls? Maybe they had some kind of toy she’d never seen before.
She watched the soldier in the guard tower pace back and forth and wondered what it felt like to watch everyone from so high up. Did the Japanese look like little ants on the ground? How many steps were on that ladder to the top? Back and forth he walked.
He must be as bored as I am.
The soldier didn’t look much older than Nobu, and maybe even younger than Taro. He stopped and looked down at her.
Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to be so close to the gate.
“What’s your name?” he called.
Had she done something wrong? Guilt turned to fear, but she knew she had to answer. “Sachi.”
He waved. “Hello, Sachi. I’m Private Collins.”
She returned his wave and wondered if he could see her hand trembling from the tower.
“I’ve seen you at the gate a few times now. Are you waiting for someone?”
“No, not really,” she said.
“Then why do you keep coming back?”
She didn’t want to tell him about looking for the colored girl.
“Well?” he asked again. “Come on, you can tell me.”
This was very strange. Why would a soldier talk to her? It had to mean trouble.
“I have a little sister about your age, back home in Utah. Come on. Maybe I can help.”
Sam would have thought this was an adventure. She decided to answer him, though her voice trembled. “Well, when we arrived … there was a girl … hiding behind that tree.”
“Yeah? Was she colored?”
Sachi’s eyes widened, and she nodded, “How did you know that?”
“’Cause she’s been on the other side of that gate almost every day. I figured she was looking for someone, too.”
“Really?”
“The two of you are just missing each other. You’ve been coming in the morning before lunch, and she’s been coming after lunch. I asked her name, too. It’s Jubie Lee. Pretty, huh?”
Sachi couldn’t believe the girl had been looking for her, too. For the first time since she’d arrived at Rohwer, she was excited about something.
Private Collins leaned over the rail, like he had a secret to tell from way up in the tower. “Bet if you wait by the fence over there by that tree, you two might finally meet up again.”
But she couldn’t wait. Nobu would be looking for her in the mess hall for lunch.
An adventure!
Who cares. Nobu would get over it. He’d probably be busy eating with Kazu anyway. He hardly ever had time for her anymore.
“Okay,” she called. “I’ll wait ove
r there for Jubie Lee.” She skipped along the barbed fence, running her fingers along the wire, careful to lift over each prickly point.
She stopped suddenly and turned, then skipped back to the entrance gate. “Private Collins?”
He pivoted. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for letting me know about Jubie Lee.”
“My pleasure,” he said, smiling. “Let me know how your meeting goes.”
It seemed she’d been waiting for a very long time and her growling stomach told her it was almost time for lunch. But, in perhaps another hour or so, she would finally meet Jubie Lee. So, what could she do for an hour? If she didn’t think of something, it would seem like forever.
She sat against a fence post near the tree and looked over her right shoulder. Cotton fields. Colored people moved slowly down the rows, bent over and pulling white bolls off prickly brown stems; she wondered if any of them might be Jubie Lee’s mama and papa.
Behind the cotton field was a forest so dense she couldn’t see past it. What was beyond those tall, thick trees?
She looked to the left. Black barracks. Most of them were still empty, but the train arrived every day, full of more Japanese to fill the six rooms in each rectangular building. Mama told her as soon as there were enough school-age kids in the camp, they’d start holding classes. At the rate they were arriving, it wouldn’t be long. Better have some fun while she could.
Sitting against that fence post was getting dull, dull, dull. What would Sam do? What kind of adventure could she have sitting there waiting? She couldn’t think of anything.
A butterfly flitted and danced around her, before landing on her knee. Blue. So blue, it caught her breath. Even the sky paled next to it. She reached to touch it—slowly, slowly. How would the color blue feel? Closer and closer she moved, until her finger brushed its velvety wing, but only for the tiniest instant. The blue fairy shivered and bound from her knee. Its sudden flight startled Sachi, and she whipped her finger away. But she smiled when she saw the bright blue dust on the tip of her finger.
Papa’s garden at home had lots of butterflies. Orange, yellow. But none as pretty as the blue one.
She hadn’t thought of Papa’s garden in a long time. His flowers were the prettiest on the block, the pink peonies, especially. And his rock garden. Though not as colorful as the flower garden, he tended it as often. She loved the rocks as much as the flowers, after he’d told her stories about each stack.
Under the big, red maple tree they would sit, and he would tell her how he had carefully stacked each rock on top of another. If he was troubled by what people said to him, or about the events in the world, it calmed him to build the towers. He’d told her that finding just the right stone to place on top of another was like meditation. It forced him to concentrate—to steady his hand.
“Try it, Sachi-chan.”
Still hearing his words, she leaned her head against the fence post and closed her eyes, remembering the calm in his voice, then remembering her frustration when the tower tumbled after only the third rock.
“Concentrate,” he said, placing his hand over hers. “Put everything else out of your mind. Focus only on balancing the rock in your hand then, place it on top of the other. Do not linger too long there.” When he let go, she had tried again.
There! It had balanced. And she had stacked another. Then another, until she had seven rocks. And a clear, calm mind.
A flutter whispered in her ears, and she opened her eyes. The butterfly had returned, perhaps to keep her company while she waited for Jubie Lee.
Maybe Jubie Lee wouldn’t come. And if she did, would she even want to talk to a Japanese girl? What would they talk about? Maybe she would only come to stare. And to tease.
Papa’s words returned. Try it, Sachi-chan.
But she wasn’t in his garden anymore. Would stacking rocks calm her fears, even in this internment camp?
She reached for a stone. Round and flat, it felt cool in her hand. She looked around for others like it and placed them in her pocket. Where could she stack them?
The butterfly sunned itself near the post where she’d been leaning, moving its blue wings. Up. Down. Up. Down. How the sunlight made the blue on its wings glitter! But as she moved closer to see the brilliant blue, it flew away. She touched the ground where it had been. Flat. It was a perfect place for her to stack her rocks.
Steadying her hand, she placed one stone on top of another, concentrating. Balancing. Waiting until just the right moment to release it and reach for another.
Papa was right. Every thought left her mind, and her world consisted only of the rocks. She stared at it, grinning. Five. Maybe just one more. She scanned the ground and found a tiny one for the top of the tower. Slow. Steady. She hovered her hand over the five rocks.
“Sachi?”
The voice startled her, and she jerked her hand away from its task.
The voice called from the gate. “Over here.”
Finally, there she was. Now that Sachi could see more than Jubie Lee’s head peeking around the tree, she was taller and skinnier than she had imagined. Jubie Lee wore jeans and a T-shirt, and Sachi might have thought she was a boy if it weren’t for the blue ribbons in her pigtails.
“You Sachi?” Jubie Lee asked. “That guard up there, Private Collins. He told me your name was Sachi.” She put her hands in her jeans pockets and walked along the outside of the barbed wire.
“Yes, I’m Sachi. And you must be Jubie Lee. He told me your name, too.” She giggled.
“Yeah, but they call me Jubie for short.”
Silence followed, and Sachi shuffled her feet in the dirt.
Jubie spoke again. “What you doing with them rocks, anyways?”
Sachi tossed the small stone to the ground. “Nothing. Just passing the time until you came.”
“Look to me like you was doing something. Concentrating mighty hard and all.” Jubie picked up the stone. “Can I try?”
Sachi smiled. “Sure, I guess.”
Jubie plopped down on the other side of the fence post and held the pebble over the stack of five rocks. Her tongue swirled around her lips and her eyes stared wide, not blinking once.
“Okay,” Sachi whispered. “Concentrate.”
Jubie dropped her hand and rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath. “Just how you expect me to concentrate when you talking to me?”
“Oh. Sorry. It’s just … that’s what my papa always used to tell me to do.”
“Aw, it ain’t nothing. I just didn’t want to knock over that nice pile of rocks you been working so hard to stack.” She put her hands in her pockets again. “Anyways, you said your papa used to tell you that?” Jubie bit her lip. “Why he don’t tell you that no more?”
Sachi didn’t want to answer, couldn’t answer. Why did she still feel queasy and get a lump in her throat at the mere mention of Papa? Of course she knew he was dead. But every time someone brought him up, it was like he was alive for an instant before dying all over again.
Jubie leaned against the fence post. She moved her foot back and forth in the dust on the ground. Her big toe stuck out of a hole in her shoe. “Ain’t he here with you?”
Sachi was going to have to say something, because it didn’t look like Jubie was going to give up. She brushed her hair out of her face. “No, he’s not here. He … died.”
Jubie’s eyes widened for an instant, before she looked at the ground.
Why so quiet all of a sudden? Sachi had just finished telling her that Papa was dead, and that’s all she got? Silence?
“Did you hear me?” Sachi asked.
“Yeah, I heard,” Jubie whispered. “I heard you real good.”
Silence again.
Jubie leaned her head on the post. “My daddy’s gone, too. Been gone almost a year now. It happened just after Thanksgiving.”
Jubie’s words made Sachi dizzy. She had to sit, too, and rested on the camp-side of the same post Jubie leaned on. “Papa died after some boys beat him up.�
��
“Why’d they beat him up?”
“Because he was Japanese. They wanted to get back at him for attacking Pearl Harbor. But he didn’t attack Pearl Harbor.” Sachi picked at splinters on the post. “How did your daddy die?”
Soft whimpers filled Sachi’s ears. It was worse than any silence. “Jubie? What is it?”
“Just when I think I done put that awful image outta my head, someone goes and says something that bring it all back again.” She hugged her knees close and buried her head. “I can’t never seem to forget what I saw.”
Sachi could tell by the way Jubie cried, it was something terrible. She was afraid to ask, but knew she had to. “What did you see?”
Jubie took a deep breath. “That night.” Her voice trembled. “Ma had just tucked me in bed … when I heard some yelling outside. She came to my bedroom door and told me to stay put. Then I heard the front door slam.” She was quiet again.
Sachi waited for her to finish.
“My heart was beating fast. I tried putting my head under the pillow to shut out the awful noise. But it didn’t shut out Ma’s scream.” She sobbed and took deep breaths over and over.
Sachi reached through the fence to touch Jubie. “It’ll be okay.” Dumb words. She knew how Jubie felt. It would never be okay.
“Then … I couldn’t wait no more. I had to see what was going on. Figured knowing would be better than wondering. So I ran to the front window and hid behind the curtain. Peeked around it to see outside.”
Sachi was afraid to hear what Jubie saw. She was sick to her stomach and her face got hot, then cold.
“Daddy was laying on the ground next to a tree. Ma was leaning over him and shaking him, screaming for someone to help him. But a couple of white men just stood there watching and by the time I run outside, they was running away. Daddy was just staring up at Ma, but it was like he wasn’t really seeing her. Now when I go to bed, I still see his eyes. No matter if I put my head under my pillow, I still see his eyes. Won’t it never go away?”
Again, Sachi had nothing to say. She looked up at the sky, searching for words that might make Jubie feel better. But she knew those words didn’t exist. She remembered her own father’s eyes.