The California Immigrant

by Barbara Anne King

  “I think you would make a very good mayor. You certainly have a good understanding of everything that goes on around here. I would like to help you win.”

  Martin was taken aback by Hector’s offer. “Of course, I appreciate any help I can get. Do you have something specific in mind?”

  “I would like to introduce you to my community of Mexicans. That would be a start.”

  “Certainly, I would like to meet your friends and relatives but if they are not allowed to vote, they cannot help me win.”

  “They can vote. They just need to get the paperwork done.”

  “Are you aware only citizens can vote?”

  “Certainly. Do you think we are all wetbacks here? Many of us were anchor babies before the government even coined the term.”

  “So, you are a citizen?”

  “That’s right. And also a citizen of Mexico. I have what is called dual citizenship.”

  No wonder he can go back and forth across the border so easily. “That being the case, I would be very grateful to meet members of your community. But until then, please focus on paperwork.”

  “This Sunday after the Spanish evening Mass, will be a good time. Many of them will be there.”

  “Do they speak English? Because I don’t speak Spanish.” Although I am learning since Juan and Carlos are not dual lingo.

  “It will not be a problem because I will be there and can translate.” Martin wondered how he would know if the translation was correct. He did not yet know whether Hector could be trusted.

  Chapter 79

  Martin easily won the election, even though his opponent cited voter fraud. Fitzgerald’s poll watchers had reported that an unexpected number of Japanese and Mexicans had shown up at the polls to cast their vote, most arriving near the end of the day when it would be too late to challenge them in person. So, Martin took office Wednesday, November 6 under a cloud of suspicion.

  The nursery rhyme came back to him—“Wednesday’s child is full of woe”—that’s how he felt about the task before him. But then he remembered he was elected on Tuesday—“a child full of grace”—and he reminded himself that God was with him—why else would he have put these nursery rhyme thoughts in his mind?

  The first group Martin met with was what he referred to as his tripartite commission—Dr. Rosen, Dr. MacKenzie, and Mr. Murphy. He felt this brain trust would know best how to approach his term in office.

  “As I told you when we first met, I think you need to unite the community. That has to be the first priority. Everything will fall in place from there,” said Dr. Rosen.

  “You are going to have to direct a public relations campaign. To do that, it often helps to have a slogan to rally around,” said Dr. MacKenzie. Martin nodded, trying to absorb his language.

  “Do you have a suggestion?” Mr. Murphy asked.

  “I have been playing around with some words. Diversity and unity need to be incorporated into the slogan,” said Dr. MacKenzie. “Maybe something like ‘Diversity is good; unity is better.’”

  “That doesn’t quite work for me,” said Dr. Rosen. “What about ‘strength in diversity’?”

  “And to follow that,” said Mr. Murphy, “‘unity in cooperation.’”

  Martin mulled the slogan over in his mind. Strength in diversity. Unity in Cooperation. “I like it. It is simple yet powerful.”

  “I have often found in speaking to my patients that the simpler I speak, the better they understand, and the more likely they are to take action to get the desired results.”

  “So, what you are saying is that you have proven these words already,” said Martin.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

  “So now that we have a slogan, we need to put a campaign together,” said Mr. Murphy. “And I know just the person to do it.”

  “Who is that, may I ask?” said Dr. MacKenzie.

  “My wife, of course. She was in advertising when I met her. She worked for one of the biggest firms in San Francisco—J. Walter Thompson.”

  “Well then, she’s hired,” said Dr. MacKenzie. “Let’s bring her in for a meeting.”

  “Just give me a little time. I may have to apply a little pressure.”

  If he applies it in the right place, there should be no problem convincing her. Martin chuckled to himself.

  Mrs. Murphy eagerly accepted the opportunity to create a public relations plan for the town. After years of drudgery raising children and doing housework, she was ready to do almost anything that would offer her an escape. But she knew it would take time for the slogan to work its way into the minds and hearts of the townsfolk. The approach required subtlety and finesse. By choosing opportunities strategically, the battle for the hearts and minds would be won.

  Meantime, Martin knew that the most important thing the returning Japanese community needed was work—a way to earn a livelihood. The Bracero program was still in effect and would be extended until 1964. But labor was always a concern to farmers who needed to get crops harvested at the right time and in the right way. Martin made a point of talking with farmers, individually at first, to explain the importance of getting people back to work. Although he met with some resistance, most had had a great respect for the Japanese before the war and the work ethic they embraced. Once he had made most of the rounds of individual farmers, he reached out to some of the farm groups so he could make a more formal presentation. By that time, many of them would have heard, seen, or read about the new town slogan. God created the world with words. Even Christ is called the Word made flesh. There is a power in words—a power to create, a power to turn dreams into reality.

  The letter Dr. Rosen had written to the editor about the Hiroshima article had gotten a lot of attention and had begun to turn whatever hate had existed for the Japanese into compassion. When townsfolk learned that Japanese living in Watsonville, such as Ken Nakamura, had relatives who had experienced the atomic bomb, they were touched even more deeply because the Japanese held little resentment. Most people in Hiroshima blamed the bombing on the war, something that was not unexpected even though the impact of Little Boy was not even imaginable in their worst nightmares. But while nightmares were soon over upon awakening, the effects of the atom bomb would be visible for decades, some people forever condemned to live with its after-effects.

  In the spring, Ken burst into the restaurant full of joy. “A miracle has occurred,” he said. Martin just stared at him, not knowing what he was talking about. “I just got a letter from a relative in Hiroshima. A flower bloomed. It’s a miracle. They said it would take seventy-five years for the soil to be fertile again, but a flower has made its appearance in numerous places giving hope to all the survivors.”

  “That is wonderful…amazing news. What type of flower is it?”

  “An oleander, in the color red. This has a lot of symbolism for us. It represents the heart chakra which is love, just as red, too, symbolizes love. But it also helps us grieve and reach peace—to leave the past behind and focus on what is before us. The oleander brought those messages to us and we need to act upon them.” When Martin heard Ken words, he knew there was hope for a future in true friendship, especially because within a year after the bombing, Hiroshima dedicated itself to peace.

  Chapter 80

  The next few years were busy ones for Martin as he tried to juggle the restaurant and grocery store with the duties of mayor. You always have to have one up in the air if you want to juggle. There is no way to have hands on all three at once. So, more and more he was delegating to Hong who was already an expert in grocery store management. And as he paid him well, always giving him annual increases, he had earned his loyalty.

  But as the forties drew to a close the world was growing restless again especially in Asia, and war broke out in Korea between the North and South. “Of course,” Martin said to Frankie who had stopped by the restaurant, “the big powers are again taking sides.”

  “Who’s on what side?”

  “China and
the Soviet Union are backing the north in its aggressive move to invade the south. And the US is taking the side of the south. We like to stick up for the underdog.”

  “Well, I’ve done my duty. And I’m glad my two sons are too young to go to war. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.”

  “It seems we can never get along in the world. Once World War II ended, the Cold War began. For a while the Soviets put up a blockade so West Berlin couldn’t get goods from the East. Now they’re meddling in Korea. And let me tell you, people here in town are so frightened by the prospects of being bombed by the Russians that some of them have built bomb shelters and stocked them with enough goods to last several years.”

  “Bomb shelters, now that is a new one on me. I’m just going to take my chances.”

  “Enough about war now. Tell me, how is the apple business going?”

  “It couldn’t be much better. And we’re always learning new methods to improve the crops and yield. Did I tell you I’m thinking of purchasing some land to start my own farm?”

  “No you didn’t. But I think it is about time to be your own man. You don’t want to kowtow to your father-in-law much longer.”

  “It’s actually worked out pretty well for me. Ivana’s father is a good guy and quite the teacher. I’ve learned a lot from him, but I’ve also added a lot to his knowledge.

  That night as soon as Martin walked in the door, the telephone rang. It could be Marty or Tom Paul wanting me to wire them money. The cost of school involved a lot more than tuition. He lifted the receiver and before he could even get out a greeting, the voice at the other end said, “Martin, is that you?”

  “It’s me all right. Who are you?”

  “Stan Dukich. It’s been such a long time since we’ve talked that you don’t recognize my voice any longer.”

  “Exchanging Christmas cards is not enough of a reminder. But I am sure you didn’t call at this hour for no reason. I only hope you don’t have bad news.”

  “I hope you will consider it good news. We have a chance to work together again.”

  “I bet I can guess—the Japanese Peace Conference that San Francisco is hosting in September.”

  “You certainly have your finger on the pulse of the world. The Fairmont will be playing host to President Truman and his entourage, so you know what that means.”

  “I certainly do. What kind of a timeframe are we talking about?”

  “Truman arrives on September fourth. I think the conference will be over soon after that.”

  “The last one, as you may recall, took months. What makes you think this one will be any shorter?”

  “That’s what I’ve been told. It will only last a few days but during that time we have to put on the dog.”

  “I have a big problem. Last time I had a couple of Chinese helpers I could really depend on. But they left to start their own restaurant. Now I rely on Mexicans. Even after several years, they still don’t speak English well and take their time getting orders out. I’d have to close my restaurant for the week.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to lose a lot of money, but I really need your help. Hopefully, this will be the last conference of this sort until after I retire.”

  “Retire…is it coming to that?”

  “Like you, I’m edging toward seventy, the Biblical four score and ten. And, quite frankly, the general manager is trying to push me out. Surely you understand there are new ways of cooking, fads that are in demand. I’m too steeped in tradition.”

  “I get the picture and will be there somehow. You can count on me.”

  “I knew I could. That’s why I called. Do you want to come up on Sunday to refresh yourself?”

  “That would be a good idea.”

  When Lena learned that Martin was going up to San Francisco on Sunday, she invited herself along. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to the city, and it will give me a chance to visit with some friends and relatives…catch up on all the news. Besides, in September it’s delightful there.”

  By the time they got on the road, the fog had lifted and they had a clear view of the Pacific as they drove along the coast. Martin dropped Lena off at the Adriatic Coast Cafe where she was planning to meet Katarina for lunch. Pauli had a corner table ready for her as soon as she walked in and offered her a glass of Prosecco. “It’s fresh and fruity as well as perfectly balanced.” Lena was thrilled with such a gracious offer of hospitality.

  “You have learned so well, Pauli. Your grandfather, Anton, won a lot of faithful customers with his warmth and generous spirit.” Pauli smiled in appreciation of the compliment. And before he could reply, Katarina walked in, pecked Lena and Pauli on the cheek, and took a seat.

  Meanwhile, Martin headed to the kitchen in the Fairmont where Stan stood ready to greet him. “As you will notice, we have replaced all our appliances. During the war years we tried to make do, but since then money has been good and manufacturers have created ovens, stoves, and refrigerators that were once only a dream. Come. I’ll show you.”

  Martin was impressed. He hadn’t replaced anything at the Dalmatian Coast Cafe since he went into business. Now he realized he was behind the times. Although in a town like Watsonville, there wasn’t much pressure from competition so he was in no hurry to spend the money. There was something in the word mañana…why do today what you can put off into the future…a future that may never come.

  “Martin, I just got the word that Truman will be holding a big luncheon on September fourth, the day he arrives. So, I will probably need you up here on Sunday so we can prep.”

  “You are giving me another opportunity to witness history in the making. I’ll do whatever you need.”

  When Martin got home, he realized he had only a few weeks to figure out a solution to his problem. Of course, the easy one would be to close the restaurant. But not only would he lose business and make no money but he might also lose his helpers since he couldn’t afford to pay them to take a siesta. The other solution would be more difficult—find someone to run the restaurant while he was gone. Here he had only one choice—Liu and Chao.

  Sunday after church, he took Lena to the Lotus Blossom Cafe for a dim sum brunch, which she had never had before. Liu and Chao were keeping the restaurant open on Sundays since they could make the most of hungry customers while the other restaurants took a break. Instead, they closed on Mondays, which were generally slow in the restaurant business.

  Liu waved to the pair from the kitchen while Chao showed them to a table. “Dim sum is the thing to order,” he said.

  “That’s what we came to have. Bring us the best assortment you offer.”

  After brunch, Martin and Lena lingered over their green tea, waiting for the other patrons to depart. Once they were the last table, both Liu and Chao sat down to join them. “It is an honor to have served you today. But my intuition tells me you are here for more than lunch,” said Liu.

  “You seem to be able to read the tea leaves,” Martin said. “I need to ask a favor.”

  “So ask, we’re listening.”

  “As you may know from your Chinese network, San Francisco is going to host the Japanese Peace Conference in early September. I have again been asked by my friend Stan to help out at the Fairmont Hotel, but that would mean closing my restaurant which I cannot afford to do. Would you be able to help me out?”

  “Of course, Monday is no problem since we are closed but the other days…wait…I have an idea. Please excuse Chao and I while we discuss it privately first.”

  Martin wondered why he could not just say his idea out loud, but he wasn’t going to question Liu’s ways—he’d known Chinese long enough to realize they had a different approach to life.

  When Liu and Chao returned to the table, Liu said, “We have come to a solution. Let’s do a swap. I will cook for you and one of your helpers will wait tables for us. How does that sound?”

  “It’s a great idea. Now I just need to convince Juan or Carlos to make the exchange.”

&nb
sp; “Tell them that order taking is much easier in our restaurant. We just use numbers. Language will not be a barrier.”

  “That should convince them. Thank you.”

  Chapter 81

  Saturday night was slow in the Dalmatian Coast Cafe, so Martin was able to get home early and get on the road at the crack of dawn the next day. As he drove through San Francisco, he already saw signs of life as taxi cabs prowled about looking for fares. Stan was waiting for Martin in the kitchen when he arrived. “Glad you got here early. That will give us a head start.”

  “Anything going on yet with the conference? I noticed the city has already come alive.”

  “Well, as usual there are already some issues.”

  “Of course, it wouldn’t be politics if there weren’t any.”

  “I heard the Yugoslavians declined the invitation.”

  “Oh no. I was looking forward to meeting some of them. What was their reason?”

  “I don’t know but I suspect it’s because Russia is not happy with the treaty.”

  “Now I understand. They don’t want to be caught between a rock and a hard place.”

  “You’re probably right about that. Then China wasn’t invited because they didn’t know which government should receive the invitation.”

  “That’s absurd. They were one of the Big Four during the war. What about the Koreans?”

  “I heard they had to uninvite South Korea since it’s got a war on with the North.”

  “This world is something else. I thought I was getting away from all the politics when I left the old country. But there seems to be even more here and on a much bigger scale.”

  “Well, the United States is the leader of the world, so it plays on a very big stage. You have to expect the stakes to be big as well—a lot bigger than in Croatia, I mean Yugoslavia. I believe that’s what we’re calling it again.”