Martin had been blindsided by Liu and Chao and now needed to brainstorm a solution, even if it was only temporary. Then it hit him…I have two sons at home with nothing to do. Until they go to college, they could work for me and learn a thing or two. He thought about this solution all day as he cooked in the restaurant. That’s what was good about cooking—he could meditate at the same time and often get an answer, frequently the right one.
When Martin got home that night, Marty and Tom Paul were hanging around in the living room watching television. “Do you have a moment,” he asked. They both looked in his direction and nodded before turning back to their TV show. “Then let’s go into the den where we can talk without distractions.”
“This show will be over in ten minutes. Can’t it wait until then?” said Tom Paul.
“I guess it will have to. I’ll be waiting for you.”
When they finally made an appearance, Tom Paul lay on the sofa while Marty sank down into an overstuffed club chair. “I’m glad you made yourselves comfortable,” Martin said. “Now we can begin. I’ll get right to the point. Liu and Chao gave their notice today. In two weeks they’ll be gone and I’ll be without helpers.”
Tom Paul suddenly sat up at the news. “What does it mean for the restaurant? They’ve been with you for years?”
“It means I have to find replacements and quickly. They told me years ago that they would find their own but apparently there is so much work available elsewhere that they haven’t been able to find anyone. And, I suspect, they are keeping those they do find for themselves. They’ll be opening their own restaurant.”
“So, are you looking for some leads from us?” Marty asked.
“Not leads. But cooperation. I need the two of you to help me out.” Marty and Tom Paul looked at each other and then gave full attention to their father.
“You know I plan to go to college. That will mean I will be moving away,” said Marty.
“Same for me,” said Tom Paul.
“I know all that and I don’t expect you to work at the restaurant forever. Just to help bridge the gap. I need time to find the right replacements. Now that the holidays are over, the restaurant will be slow. It shouldn’t be too difficult for you to learn what to do.”
“We owe it to you to give it a try,” Marty said. Then he looked at Tom Paul, hoping he would second the motion.
“Count me in,” said Tom Paul. “It’s about time I learned how to cook.”
“On that note, let’s get out the sljivovica.”
Before Liu and Chao left to start their own business, Martin had them show Marty and Tom Paul the ropes. He noticed that Tom Paul with his outgoing charm was a natural fit for waiter. That left Marty as the sous chef. But he had developed skill at cleaning fish when he crewed on the Ave Maria out of Santa Cruz harbor. So Martin felt he had the initial skills he needed in the kitchen.
On Saturday night, things went so well that Martin was able to sneak out early to catch the tail end of the opening of the Lotus Blossom Cafe. He had not heard what they planned to name the cafe, but when he saw the sign something in him stirred. He had heard that name before—it was echoing from somewhere deep in his past but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
When Martin walked through the door, the room was still filled with customers who were now sipping tea and opening fortune cookies. The scene was somehow familiar to him but he could not remember when he had come upon it. Liu spotted Martin right away and came over to welcome him. “You honor us with your presence on this most important first night of our business.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, I am a bit curious about the name for your restaurant.” At that moment, Chao interrupted to shake Martin’s hand.
“You taught us well as you can see from the happy customers before you.”
“You helped ensure my success so I am glad I helped to ensure yours. But I have one tip. Get insurance. If there is a disaster, you’ll be able to recover more quickly. Insurance is the only reason I was able to start the Dalmatian Coast Cafe. Otherwise, I might still be picking apples.”
“We know all about insurance. Our relatives in Chinatown clued us in and a cousin sold us a policy. Like you, they learned from the earthquake what can happen when disaster strikes. And fires, especially, are not unknown to us. With all the frying Chinese cooking requires, a grease fire is always waiting in the wings.”
“So, since you already know about insurance, I will have to come up with a new piece of advice. Anyway, about the name.”
“Oh, yes,” said Liu. The lotus flower is very auspicious to Chinese. It is a symbol of enlightenment. While it grows in the muddy depths of a pond, the flower that rises above it is white, pure.”
“I see,” said Martin even though he did not.
“Let me explain more,” said Chao. “The muddy water is the life we lead on earth. Once we see the light and achieve spiritual understanding, we rise above the cares of the world, even material riches.”
“Thank you for enlightening me. I will reflect on what you said.”
“Please sit down and be our guest,” said Liu. “I will bring you some of our best dishes for you to sample.”
On his drive home, Martin kept rolling the word lotus around in his mind. Lotus, lotus, lotus. Where have I heard that word before? Then it struck him…in Chinatown…at tea with Nevenka. Had he come full circle now? All these years have gone by and he had not thought of the Lotus Blossom Tea Room. At the time, he had no interest in the meaning of the name…his only interest was Nevenka. But now his life was beginning to make sense. He had been living in muddy waters for a long time, and finally he had risen above them and gained wisdom, a gift more valuable than all the riches in the world.
Martin continued to visit Ken at his farm on a regular visit. In fact, they had established a regular habit of tea on Tuesday afternoons when they both had less work to do. “How are you doing with your sons helping out?”
“It’s going better than expected. But they are only a short-term solution. Both will be going to college in the fall and leaving home.”
Hector had walked into the office just as Martin was explaining his dilemma to Ken. When Martin left, Hector was waiting for him. “I was not eavesdropping, but I heard you are looking for restaurant help.”
“That’s right. I need someone to wait tables and someone to help me in the kitchen.”
“I have the ones you need.”
“Is that so? Do they have green cards?”
“Of course. I will send them to you tomorrow.”
Martin watched as Hector walked toward the fields. He still had not figured him out. But if he had workers available, and no doubt he did, he would try them out. I wonder if they speak English? He had forgotten to ask.
The next day, Juan and Carlos were waiting for him at the door. Juan spoke passable English, but with Carlos a lot of sign language was needed to compensate for lack of words. “Juan, I want you to wait tables. Let me explain the menu to you so you can make recommendations to the customers. And Carlos, come with me.” He followed the command with a few motions and Carlos understood. I’m back in muddy waters, Martin thought, but maybe I’m going to learn something new.
Chapter 77
In early September 1946, Martin noticed a letter to the editor in the Register-Pajaronian by Dr. Rosen, the same doctor that had treated Lena for tuberculosis. Dr. Rosen wrote about an article that had appeared in a magazine called The New Yorker, a publication unfamiliar to him. Dr. Rosen said the only article in the August 31 issue was one entitled “Hiroshima” by John Hersey. He briefly went on to describe the horrific injuries people sustained, all civilians, even women and children, from the atomic bomb which had been dropped on that city.
By telling stories of individuals, John Hersey put a face on the impact war had on human life. He encouraged people to read the article so they would know what the Japanese had experienced in graphic detail, many of whom had relatives in our community. He said
he had personally purchased numerous copies that would be available at the Watsonville Library to check out.
The next day, Martin went by the library to get a copy. Before he had a chance to read it, Dr. Rosen called and asked to meet with him about an important community matter. They scheduled a time on Sunday afternoon. When Dr. Rosen showed up at Martin’s house, he was accompanied by the superintendent of schools, Dr. MacKenzie, and a prominent local attorney, Mr. Murphy. Lena answered the door and welcomed the group. “Martin is in the living room expecting you. I will bring coffee and tea in a minute.”
The trio proceeded to the living room where they greeted Martin warmly. Martin had no idea why they wanted to meet with him and kept his reserve. After everyone had a chance to sip some coffee or tea and eat some of Lena’s kolache, Dr. Rosen introduced the purpose. “Martin,” he said, “we have an election for mayor coming up in town and Mayor Simpson has just announced he will not be seeking reelection. We are looking for a candidate who can unite our community so we can heal and move forward.”
“I agree there are a lot of strong feelings out there that have not been resolved by the armistice.”
“That’s right,” said MacKenzie. “For the sake of the children especially, all of the children, we need to come together in peace and friendship.”
“Did you read The New Yorker article on Hiroshima?” Dr. Rosen asked.
“I’ve only read a few pages so far and I don’t know if I can read more. Knowing Japanese as I do, it is heart-wrenching to learn what really happened to them and their city.”
“That’s why we are here to talk to you. You have friends in the Japanese community and therefore, have compassion for them. They trust you more than most round eyes.”
“Please don’t call me round eyes. We are all just human beings trying to do our best.”
“You just put into words what is at core the most important—our shared humanity,” said Dr. Rosen, his dark eyes full of kindness and compassion.
“Okay. Before we start down some philosophical tangent, I want to bring us back to our purpose. Martin, you have lived and worked here for most of your life. You have developed relationships with all sectors of our community. We want you to be a candidate for mayor because you have the ability to unite us,” said Murphy.
“Me?” Martin said. “I would have to think about it.”
“Well, you can’t take too long to ponder because the election is coming up. So far, there is only one candidate, Patrick Fitzgerald. I don’t have to tell you he’s an Irishman and a tough one at that—one of the black Irish, descendants of Spanish sailors who got moored on the Island. He was fashioned from the worst of both heritages. And from what he is spewing around town, he will be both divisive and destructive.”
“I know Patrick. He comes into my restaurant for lunch once in a while. He’s a real street fighter and will pull no punches to win.”
“Glad you are already aware of what we’ll be up against,” said Dr. Rosen.
“You’re right. He would be no good for the town or for anybody who lives here,” said Martin.
“Then does that mean you’re in?” said Dr. MacKenzie.
“I still need to think it over and talk with my family about it. When do you need an answer?”
“By Wednesday,” said Dr. Rosen. “I will come by your restaurant after lunchtime.”
When the men left, Martin went to his liquor cabinet, poured a glass of sljivovica, and sank into his armchair. His thoughts had been running wild but the sljivovica helped to clarify them. Maybe this is what everything in my life has been leading up to, what I have been preparing for. Perhaps, God is singling me out for this task. If so, I will have the right power behind me to succeed.
That night at dinner, Clara and her family as well as Frankie and Ivana, who was now with child, joined them. Marty and Tom Paul had left for college, both choosing to follow Marko to Stanford, which was now becoming known as the Harvard of the West. After dinner, Martin asked Frankie and Peter to join him in the den. Once the door was closed and everyone had a glass of sljivovica in their hand, Martin broached the subject of the election, more specifically, his candidacy. “What would you think if I ran for mayor?” He saw his audience had been made speechless by the question, so he waited a minute for someone to recover.
“I guess I should speak first,” said Frankie. “But before I offer an opinion, I would like to know what brought you to this idea?”
“Three prominent men from town were here earlier today and approached me with the proposition. They want someone in the mayor’s seat who can unite the town. They thought I might be the person to do it.”
“You certainly could,” said Peter. “And you would be much better than that other guy, Fitzgerald.”
“I think you realize these men are right when they say we need to unite. The war is over but the wounds are lingering. If we don’t apply the right medicine, they’ll continue to fester and infect us. That won’t be good for anybody. Dr. MacKenzie is especially concerned about the children, as we should all be. We don’t want them growing up in an atmosphere of hate, suspicion, and resentment.”
“You would be the person who could unite the town if anyone could,” said Frankie. “Have you spoken to Ma about it yet?”
“Not yet. I wanted to have a decision before I did. If my decision was no, then I wouldn’t have to risk her opinion.”
“You never know. She might just fancy the thought of being the mayor’s wife. It would give her life a new focus.”
That evening after his children left, Martin stayed up reading the Hiroshima article. Not only did it sicken him but he felt tears welling up ready to spill down his cheeks. The Japanese have been through enough. Now we have to reach out in friendship.
When Wednesday arrived, Martin was waiting for Dr. Rosen with a pot of coffee and cookies on the table. “I read all the way through the Hiroshima article,” he said. “I don’t ever think I’ll be able to get those tragic mental images out of my head.”
“I certainly hope no one does. While that bomb ended the war and saved thousands of American lives, we humans should never again perpetrate such horror on our world.”
“I’m glad you came across this article. People in this town especially need to read it.”
“I didn’t just come across it. I’m a subscriber to The New Yorker. Many years ago when I was a young medical student I did an internship in New York City at Mount Sinai hospital. The magazine was always laying around on a table in our lounge. That’s how I got exposed to it and became a life-long reader.”
Martin took a sip of coffee. “Well, your team and the article gave me a lot to think about these past few days, and I have decided to accept your confidence in me to run for mayor.”
“That is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. And I know Mayor Simpson will be pleased when he learns of it. He’s one of your fans and will be behind you all the way.”
Then how can I lose?
Chapter 78
The first person Martin wanted to tell about his decision to run was Ken. He found him, as usual, in the farm office sipping green tea. He looked up with a smile when he saw Martin enter. “Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. I will get you a cup of tea.”
Once they were settled, Martin began, “I have been asked to run for mayor and wanted your thoughts on my candidacy.”
“Of all the people I can think of, you would be the best for the job. You have lived here a long time and know so many people. Your roots run deep—a sign that you have learned wisdom from longevity.”
“Thank you for your kind words. I would like to get the support of the Japanese community who I hope to represent well so they can reestablish themselves and flourish here. Do you think there would be an opportunity to speak with your group?”
“Certainly. I will arrange something. But your timing is very auspicious. We just heard from a leader of the Japanese American Citizens League and how important it is to become
politically active. He instructed those of us who are eligible to register to vote and then make the effort to cast a ballot on Election Day. He said that is one way to wield power in this country.”
“He is right about that. When you don’t participate in the political process you have no voice, no power.”
“So, I will arrange a time for you to speak to us soon.”
“Thank you. I also wanted to mention an article I read about Hiroshima.”
“If it is the one in The New Yorker, that has been circulated around to us but it has been difficult to read it since it is so personal to many of us. So many people killed and injured in the most horrific ways. The land destroyed. They say it will take seventy-five years until plants will grow there again. We Japanese live so close to nature that when nature is harmed, we feel the pain.”
“I noticed that one of the people in the article has the last name of Nakamura just like you.”
“Yes, she is a cousin to me of some sort. While my parents immigrated here, hers stayed behind. And look at the difference in our fates. Even though we were interred and many have lost everything, we are still whole and the land is fertile. We have an opportunity to start again. But I have been really lucky because you took such good care of my farm that I had an immediate livelihood to rely on when I got back. For that, I will be eternally grateful.”
“It was the least I could do. Hector said it best. It was one way to right an injustice or words to that effect.”
Hector was waiting for Martin when he left the farm office. “I hear you plan to run for mayor.”
Word certainly goes around town quickly. Or maybe Hector had his ear to the ground. “Yes, I have been asked to be a candidate by a committee of prominent citizens and have accepted the challenge.”
The California Immigrant Page 27