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All We Left Behind

Page 18

by Danielle R. Graham


  I wonder what would happen if I set the entire camp on fire. At least flames licking up the sides of the buildings would be colourful. I can’t write more because my hands shake too much.

  F/O Pierce Duration as POW: Long enough for Chidori to already be married to someone else and have a baby.

  F/O Pierce Duration as POW: Too bloody long.

  Please God make it end.

  F/O Pierce Duration as POW: An estimated 7,300 hours.

  I really don’t care about anything but Chidori any more.

  F/O Pierce Duration as POW: Approximately 438,000 torturously monotonous minutes.

  Chidori, can you feel me? If you can, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do it any more.

  Chapter 32

  The night before I shipped off from Vancouver to Basic Training in Vernon, my parents came into town and met Rosalyn and me at a restaurant. The last time I had seen my sister was only a couple months earlier, but when I picked her up at the nurses’ dormitory where she lived, she was almost unrecognizable because of the shocking amount of weight she had lost from the worry over Earl. She had applied bright lipstick to brighten her face, but there was no hiding how gaunt she had become. I didn’t say anything about her dreadful appearance because I didn’t want her to think she looked unattractive, but I did ask how she was feeling. She lied.

  Pop had already convinced Ma to stop hounding me to change my mind about volunteering for the Armed Forces – in the hopes that if they didn’t pressure me I would quit rebelling and come to my senses on my own. I was too defiant and determined for that strategy to work, but I did appreciate that they were at least outwardly being less oppositional to my goal. And once they saw the poorly state Rose was in, their full parental concern shifted to her.

  Ma pressed her with questions about Earl and her duties at the hospital, then lectured her on the importance of eating three square meals a day without skipping. Eventually, Rosalyn’s face grew even paler and her hands trembled so terribly that she spilled her tea all over the tablecloth. She looked about to faint.

  ‘Rose, are you sure you’re feeling all right?’ I asked and supported her elbow so she wouldn’t slide off the chair.

  She forced a pleasant smile and placed her weak hand on top of mine. ‘Fine, Haydie. Just fine. A little tired maybe.’

  ‘Earl’s going to come home,’ I said quietly and squeezed her fingers to reassure her.

  ‘I know.’ She blinked slowly, her eyes glazed over, and she drifted off into her tortured thoughts again. I tried to tell a light-hearted story about Joey and Donna Mae, but Rose wasn’t paying attention, and halfway through, she interrupted to say to Ma and Pop, ‘You mustn’t believe everything you read in the newspapers. Simply because it is written in a newspaper doesn’t make it true.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Ma asked before shooting a worried glance at Pop.

  Rose reached into her handbag, pulled out a folded newspaper, and placed it on the table. ‘One afternoon, one of my nursing friends and I were leaving the teashop and got to talking with the Takeuchi boys on Powell Street. Do you remember them? They lived on Mayne Island when I was in grade school, then moved to Vancouver?’

  ‘Yes, of course. They were fine boys. How are they?’ Ma said cheerfully.

  ‘Not good, Ma.’ Rose shook her head at our mother’s obtuseness and then poked her index finger repeatedly against the newspaper column. ‘They were taken away like Chidori’s family. And before that happened, the newspaper reporter lied about something that happened. He slandered their good names.’

  ‘What lies?’ Pop asked. ‘Was your name printed in the story as well?’

  ‘No, nobody cared to mention that I defended the boys. They ignored my side of the story completely.’

  ‘What happened?’ I asked.

  ‘As the boys and I chatted on the sidewalk, a more recently immigrated Japanese woman and her young child were stopped by two RCMP officers who asked to see her papers. She didn’t understand what they were asking her in English. The woman bowed repeatedly to the officers and glanced over at the Takeuchi boys in hopes they could assist her. The boys explained to her in Japanese that she was being asked to show her papers.’

  ‘I’m confused,’ Ma said. ‘How could a reporter cast two boys helping to translate in a negative light?’

  ‘The RCMP officers took offence to what they assumed was the boys giving the woman instructions. The officers claimed that the boys were directing her to disobey. More likely, the officers preferred not to admit that they needed help.’

  Pop nodded as if it didn’t surprise him.

  ‘Wait, it gets worse,’ Rose continued. ‘The officers took one look at my friend Louise and me and assumed that the boys had been harassing us. In their mind it was implausible that I would have been willingly conversing with two Japanese boys. Suddenly more interested in us, they let the woman go without checking her papers and walked over to ask the boys what they thought they were doing pestering us. The boys were nothing but polite but without waiting for them to explain how we all knew each other, the officers pushed both of the boys against a shop window to wrench their arms behind their backs. The window broke from their weight and a shard of glass cut one of the officers.’

  ‘Oh goodness, nothing good will come from injuring an officer,’ Mother said, missing the point.

  ‘The officer cut himself, Ma. When he smashed two innocent boys into a window.’ Rose sighed from the effort of telling the story, then focused more on Pop and me as she shared the rest. ‘A crowd of folks gathered around and some fellow from the newspaper took a photograph of the boys being arrested.’ She unfolded the newspaper to the photo to show us.

  The photo showed the officer’s face bleeding and the broken shop window in the background. The caption read: Two Japs Arrested. Harassed White Girls. Assaulted Officers.

  ‘The article reports that the boys smashed the window and cut the officer, which is absolutely not true. I just wanted to warn you not to believe everything that you read in the newspaper. They can make the truth look any way they choose, and they can also print thumping lies. The average reader is none the wiser. It is a shame. A horrible shame. The boys spent two nights in jail and had to pay for the broken window before they were then forced to evacuate to Hastings Park.’

  ‘Oh, dear, that is a shame,’ Ma said. While we were all pondering the injustice in heavy silence, she took over the conversation to tell her own story about how one of our relatives had been treated unfairly during the Easter Rising.

  ‘Ma, what does a religious protest in 1916 have to do with Rose’s story about the Takeuchi boys?’ I asked, trying to contain my frustration.

  ‘They were both a shame.’

  I shook my head in exasperation. Thankfully Pop changed the subject to something completely unrelated and distracted Ma. I slid my arm across my sister’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze so she would know that at least I understood. ‘I’m going to do whatever I can to end the injustice.’

  Her eyes met mine, but all I saw was intense sadness.

  After dinner, we walked Rose back to her dormitory. She hugged me for an extra-long time and whispered, ‘Make sure you return home, darling brother.’

  ‘I will. I promise.’

  She chuckled softly without smiling. ‘That’s what Earl said.’ Then she turned and disappeared into the lobby of her building.

  As my parents and I strolled back to the hotel, Ma chatted about pretty much everything we saw – the rose-beige colour of a Model A Coupé, the size of the lettering on a porcelain store sign, and the closeness of an iron bench to the sidewalk. She always talked about nothing when she was trying to keep her mind off something that made her uncomfortable. So she was talking about a whole lot of nothing.

  ‘I’m worried about Rose,’ I said to my father after my mother had gone into the hotel lobby. I stood outside with him while he finished his cigarette.

  He shrugged and took a drag before answering. ‘Her fiancé
is missing in action, she’s witnessed some unsettling deaths at the hospital, and her kid brother is shipping off. She’s heavy with concern. We all are.’

  ‘I don’t want to add to her burden. I’ll be in the country until I finish training. The war might be over by the time I get my wings, or I might wash out.’

  ‘I doubt you’ll wash out. You’re going to be a fine pilot.’ Pop butted out his cigarette, then turned to lean his back against the wall. He watched the folks pass on the sidewalk for a long spell. ‘Your mother means well.’

  ‘I know.’ I shoved my hands in my pocket, feeling guilty that I’d been annoyed by her guilelessness. ‘I’d rather she actually understood, though.’

  He nodded.

  I kicked the toe of my boot against the sidewalk with conflicted emotions. ‘I’m going to miss you, Pop.’

  He nodded again before reaching forward to pull me in tightly against his chest. ‘I love you, son. You make sure you come on home.’ He patted my back, then released me from the embrace and turned to go into the hotel.

  It was the first time since I had made up my mind to volunteer for service that I felt a shred of second-guessing. But then I thought about Chidori imprisoned for no reason and the shred was replaced with sheer determination.

  Two streets over from the hotel was called Hastings Street and it made me wonder if maybe Hastings Park was nearby. I jogged over to a fellow who was opening the door to his pick-up truck. ‘Excuse me, is Hastings Park far from here?’

  ‘The place where they’re keeping the Japs?’

  ‘Japanese Canadians. Yes.’

  ‘Just under five kilometres. I’m heading past that way if you want a lift.’

  I nodded, grateful, and opened the passenger door to get in.

  ‘There ain’t much else out that way.’ We pulled out onto the road. ‘Do you have a reason to be there?’

  I nodded again, not particularly inclined to discuss my personal life with a stranger.

  He glanced over at me and quickly realized I wasn’t going to be a real chatty chap. He thankfully didn’t ask any more questions.

  I hopped out when he stopped, thanked him through the open window, and crossed the street towards the barbwire fence. Dusk had fallen, but the silhouetted outlines of the buildings were visible. Thousands of cars that had been confiscated from the Japanese Canadians were lined up in the field. The only people around the facility were guards. I hooked my fingers through the chain link for a good while, just staring, until one of the guards wandered over to me.

  ‘You can’t be here.’

  ‘My fiancée is inside. I’m leaving for service tomorrow. Would you ask her to come outside so I can say goodbye?’

  ‘That’s not permitted.’

  ‘They must be able to have visitors. Even prisoners in jail are allowed to have visitors.’

  ‘Not at this time of night and not without a pass. Besides, they’re enemy aliens, not prisoners. They’ve been stripped of their rights.’

  ‘She’s not an enemy alien. She was born in Canada and did nothing wrong. Please just ask her to come out into the yard. I won’t take long.’ I pulled her picture out of my pocket and showed it to him. ‘This is what she looks like.’

  He shone his torch at the photo and shook his head. ‘Even if I tried, there are hundreds of women her age in there. I’d never be able to find her.’ He leaned his back against the fence and cupped his hands over a match to light a cigarette. ‘Why are you marrying a Jap?’

  My jaw tensed and I had to speak through clenched teeth. ‘Because I love her. Why did you marry your wife?’

  He chuckled. ‘Because she was the only one who said yes. I tell you what, kid, write her a note and I’ll see what I can do about getting it to her.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I fished around in my pockets and found my ship ticket to write on the back.

  Chidori Setoguchi: I came by Hastings Park to see you, but couldn’t get in. I leave for Basic Training tomorrow. Please contact my parents once you know your new address. I miss you and I love you. Hayden Pierce.

  I curled the ticket to pass it through the fence to the guard.

  ‘When did she get here?’ he asked as he tucked the ticket into his pocket.

  ‘April twenty-first.’

  ‘She’s more than likely already gone by now.’

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘An internment camp in the interior, or maybe to work on a sugar-beet farm in Alberta. I’ll get it to her if she’s still here.’ He turned and walked away.

  I sighed and stared at the buildings until it got too dark to make out the outlines. The hopelessness in my gut tried to rear up, but I pushed it back down by focusing on the fact that I was boarding a train the next morning to do something about it.

  Chapter 33

  F/O Pierce Duration as POW: 26,000,000 seconds and counting.

  Chidori appeared in the water as I drowned. She swam next to me and her black hair swirled around her face. She reached her arm out and said with the calmest voice, ‘They can’t break you. Our love is too strong.’ When I extended my reach to touch her she faded. I popped my head out of the ocean into the middle of a war zone. Everything – submarines, ships, airplanes, men – fired ammunition at me. Explosions went off all around, so I dipped back down into the water and let myself sink deeper into the darkness to get away from it all. I floated into the depths for a long while before a hand clamped around my arm and pulled me all the way across the ocean and back to Canada. When we surfaced, my saviour wasn’t even breathless. It was Gordie. I was about to thank him but then he sank. I dove down repeatedly to save him, but I couldn’t find him.

  I woke up screaming at three forty-seven.

  Harold won the bet, which was fair since he also gained a black eye when he tried to wake me up.

  To the son I will never have,

  Sorry I couldn’t be your Papa. I wanted to be your father more than anything in the world, but it looks as if someone else is going to need to do that for me. I haven’t actually lived that long myself, but I have learned a few things about being a man that I can share with you.

  First, ladies fancy fellows who know how to dance, so make sure you learn how to dance. On second thought, maybe it doesn’t matter whether you know how to dance, since I never did have a proper dance with your mother, and she learned to love me anyway. You need to be polite to a woman – no cursing, no spitting, always open the door for her, carry heavy items for her, ask her opinion about topics, tell her she looks pretty, give her your coat if it’s chilly, stand when she enters or leaves a room, and ask permission before you kiss her. If you happen to be a fellow who doesn’t fancy women, I suppose my advice still applies. Be kind. Be yourself. And never let anyone tell you who you should or shouldn’t love.

  Second, read as much as you can. Books teach you things about people and the world that you would never know otherwise.

  Third, learn how to swim even if you don’t ever live near water. It might save someone’s life one day. And it will ensure that you don’t lose your own life in a way that could have been prevented. If you can convince your great uncle Massey to learn how to swim while you’re at it, I would be much obliged. I never thought it was right for a man who made his living on the water to not know how to swim. And if you get caught in a rip don’t fight it; go with the flow.

  Fourth, make sure you own a sharp suit that fits you well, even if you don’t need it for your everyday work. Ask your father to show you how to tie a necktie. Ask him to also teach you how to fix an engine, because chances are you’ll own a car or a tractor or a boat and you don’t want to be stranded.

  Fifth, have a firm handshake and look folks in the eyes when you meet them. Be honest and generous like your mother. Judge people on their merit, not on the colour of their skin or the God they believe in. Better yet, try not to judge people at all if you can. There are going to be people you don’t respect much, but still treat them cordially. Solve problems with words whenever
possible, but you can sock a fellow in the mouth if he disrespects or hurts someone you love. Come to think of it, one fortunate thing about me not being able to be your father is you won’t inherit my temper. It only ever made things worse, so you’re better off without that.

  If you’re born a girl, that would be dandy too. I would have taught you all the same things I taught a son, including how to throw a proper spiral and hit a curve ball. You can learn everything else you need to know from your mother. She’s better at managing a rowboat, fishing, and everything to do with school than I am anyway. You’re lucky to have her as a mama. You take good care of her.

  Even though I will never meet you, I love you. I love you as much as God loves you.

  Sincerely,

  The man who desperately wishes he could have been your papa, Hayden Pierce

  I tore the pages of the letter out of my journal and folded them to place in my pocket next to the letter Pop had sent me before I was shot down. Even though I had tried to forget about it, every word was still etched in my memory. I didn’t even need to unfold it to read it again.

  The next day, when I was out in the yard, I noticed a slip of paper in the crack of the latrine wall. Gordie had left me a note to let me know it was Easter.

  God will judge the world in righteousness. On this day, He gave us living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead. Hold on, Hayden, freedom’s crowning hour awaits. The Americans have an ace up their sleeve. Wait for it.

  Folded up in the note, to my astonishment, was my photo of Chidori that the guard had torn into confetti. Gordie had somehow glued it back together with some sort of resin. So moved by the thoughtful gesture, I dropped to my knees and wept. There was no favour in the world that I could return to him that would even come close to what getting the photo of Chidori back meant to me. I would be eternally grateful and indebted to him.

  As I stared at her, a songbird chirped from its perch on the barbed wire.

 

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