Full Wolf Moon (7 page)

Still, his hand trembled as he held the book. He set it on the arm of the chair and walked out onto the cabin's porch to watch the sun as it set. For a moment he felt a surge of despair... no, don't go... but, then he had control once more. He went back in, sat down and tried to read again.
Chapter 9
Tulenar Internment Camp
Night. New Moon.
There was no moon out. Harriet Haku had only the silhouettes of the barracks to show her the way. Occasionally the black-on-black was interrupted by dim squares of yellow, hinting of evacuees that had not yet gone to bed. But these were few and overwhelmed by the long darkness of buildings to either side of the dirt road, featureless and flat in the night.
Harriet was late coming back from the Shibai theatre where she was helping with the final touches. Next month was September, and the theatre would have its first production, a modest Kabuki put on by some of the residents of Block Six.
She walked blindly but confidently down the road that led to Block Three, because she had walked this way twice weekly since theatre construction began. But she stopped when she heard the noise, a kind of shuffling. She turned to the sound behind her, seeing nothing but the black walls of tarpaper barracks. She began walking again, then stopped abruptly when she heard whispering. But both the whispering and the shuffling could have come from inside a barracks, so she went on.
The blow came from behind, not a hard hit, but a blunt push that knocked her to the ground, forcing the breath out of her. She struggled under the weight. At first it seemed the weight was her lungs straining to capture the breath they had lost, but soon she realized it was the press of someone on her back.
"Please," she managed, "I can't breathe."
"It'd be a waste of good air anyway, lady stooge."
"Please..."
"Please, please," the voice mocked her.
The right side of Harriet's face was mashed into the dry, grainy dirt. When she finally regained her wind she sucked in a mouthful of dust and coughed uncontrollably. She could hear laughter, guarded chuckles full of wariness, and tried to guess how many attackers there were. At least three. The one atop her was a young man from the sound of his voice, and he kept her head in his control by sinking his fingers deep into her pinned hair.
She was angry and terrified, and it was her anger that asked, "What do you want?"
"We want you to remember who you are. You're nihonjin! Come back to the fold, stop being Tebbe's stooge. You better quit tomorrow, or you'll end up like the rest of the informants are going to, you'll end up like Ataki. You understand me, lady inu?"
He tugged at her hair, she felt some of it tear loose from her scalp, but she refused to reply. Her face was forced into the dust, rubbed into it until she finally had to take in another mouthful with a breath. She heard the wary chuckling again as she gagged.
"You understand me, lady inu?"
"Yes. Yes!"
"Tomorrow better be the last time we see you walk up that hill."
She felt the weight lift, felt his foot press against the small of her back as he stepped on and over her, then heard them pounding away at a run as she rolled onto her back and screamed for help.
/ / / /
Doris hadn't been in an evacuee's apartment since the camp had opened. Then the quarters had been raw, wood flooring and walls. Small wood burners had squatted in the midst of the twenty-by-twenty-four foot rooms. Most of them had not yet been properly partitioned from each other. Privacy had to be improvised by hanging blankets and bed sheets.
Now, at least, the partitions were in place. The Hakus had done a nice job with their unit. Harriet's husband, Jesse, had made a sturdy table and three chairs. There was even a settee built onto one of the walls and the furniture had cushions and covers, ordered from Sears Roebuck. The walls were painted a winter white and held shelves for essentials; tea and a few snacks to nibble between meals at the mess hall; knick-knacks and family portraits brought in when the Hakus were transferred.
Harriet's daughter, Joy, sat on one of the Sears rugs, busy with her dolls. Mr. Haku sat at the feet of his wife who was propped up in bed. The first rays of the morning sun slanted into the window and onto Harriet's face, cruelly scratched and inflamed. But she was as calm and all-business as ever. Mr. Haku stood and brought one of the chairs over for Doris.
She sat down and said, "I am so sorry, Harriet. Was it the Inu Hunters?"
"Yes, we think it was them," Mr. Haku said for his wife. "They attacked her and threatened to do worse if she didn't quit as your secretary."
"If you feel you should resign, Harriet, you know I'll understand."
Harriet shook her head matter-of-factly. "Of course not."
"Well...thank you for that. I'd be lost without you. But I think you should take the day off to recoup a little."
"No, I'm fine, just a little scratched up. They intended to scare me, not hurt me."
But they did hurt you, Harriet, Doris thought, look at your face. Aloud, she said, "If you change your mind about that any time today, just let me know."
"Thank you. I'll be up to the office as soon as I make that report to the police."
"Take your time."
Doris rose to leave. Mr. Haku turned to his wife, said, "I'll be right back," then walked Doris out the door. He escorted her to the dusty road, and just when Doris was about to let him know she would be fine on her own, he touched her arm and stopped.
"Listen," he said, "Harriet didn't want to mention this because she thinks it was just bravado. But those boys mentioned Tsuko Ataki."
"What do you mean?"
"They told her that if she didn't quit, she'd wind up like poor Mr. Ataki."
"You can't be telling me what I think you're telling me, Mr. Haku."
He was a small, thin man and he looked out at her from deep set eyes, appearing so much older than he really was. The result, perhaps, of being among the first of the young Nisei men to spend time in federal prison before being transferred to Tulenar.
"It may be the empty boasting of young toughs, but I don't want to take that chance," he said. "If it were up to me, Mrs. Tebbe, Harriet wouldn't go back to work for you, you understand? But she's more American than Japanese and won't listen to me. Since she's determined to stay on, I want you to know what she's up against. I just hope this new police force can clip all this in the bud. Things are escalating. This was a physical attack and, next time, this pack of delinquents will do worse to her, I'm sure."
"Will Harriet tell this to the police?"
"I've already told her if she doesn't I will."
What now? Doris didn't want to bring Captain Pierce in on this. Damn. She said absently, "Thank you, Mr. Haku, for your honesty," and began walking toward the hill.
Would a band of bitter teenagers really do something grievous to an old man? Then again, they'd just attacked a defenseless woman. Doris did not want to think of the Inu Hunters as anything more than a group of frustrated boys misdirecting their anger. But were they more? Were they kidnappers? Were they worse?
No. She simply couldn't think in either of those directions. Besides, how and where could they realistically hold a hostage? And why hadn't any contact made, any bargaining for Ataki's return? There was no evidence to steer her to such thoughts, and she absolutely would not let herself think the Inu Hunters might have done worse to Mr. Ataki. She should turn back, tell Mr. Haku to keep that information confidential, not to tell anyone but the internee police. It would be as dangerous as dynamite in this place.
"Good morning, Mrs. Tebbe."
Doris looked up to see David Alma Curar leaning on his truck, its bed stacked with oriental vegetables. She gave herself a mental shake and said, "Good morning, Mr. Alma Curar. How are your sales going?"
"Better than I could hope."
It had been two weeks since Mr. Alma Curar began selling his produce, but Doris still wasn't used to him. Always his battered, green truck was poised between the camp proper and administration, so any time Doris needed to trek between the two, she was forced to encounter him.
Doris wanted to pass by quickly. "Well, good luck today..."
"You seem troubled, Mrs. Tebbe."
It was a calm statement, made in the same passive yet interested tone a doctor might use with a patient. It was that strange authority in his voice that caused her to stop as Alma Curar left his truck and walked toward her.
"Do I?" she replied, feeling pensive. "I'm just sorting out the day."
"Anything new on Mr. Ataki?"
The soft, downy hair on her neck prickled. "How did you know about him?"
"How could I not know about him? His disappearance is all my customers talk about. Is Mr. Ataki what troubles you?"
"Of course his disappearance troubles me," she replied curtly and tried to move on.
But Alma Curar took a step closer, his face softening with what seemed melancholy. Doris stiffened, but held her ground.
"You're troubled, Mrs. Tebbe, because you know he's dead, don't you?"
"Dead! It's my fervent hope that he's very much alive and safe."
"That's your mind's hope. But your heart tells you differently."
Doris managed to step back and gather her anger. "Mr. Alma Curar, if I hear of you spreading such wild rumors and throwing this camp into a panic, I'll not only ban you from Tulenar, I'll have you arrested. Do you understand?"
Alma Curar didn't so much as blink. "Mrs. Tebbe, there's already enough fear in this place to feed on for generations. The last thing I want is to plant more of it."
The thick crunch of someone walking up the gravel road pulled their attention from one another. A frail Issei couple was coming toward them. When she looked back at Alma Curar, he was already walking toward his truck, a pleasant smile aimed at his customers.
Doris went straight away to Mr. Haku and had a talk with him. When she finally got to her office, there was a file clerk and a block manager waiting to report that delinquents had bullied them the night before. The clerk said that he was threatened with Ataki's fate.
Chapter 10
Lakeside Post Assembly Center
Morning. First Quarter Moon.
A sense of urgency had nagged Max even before he had awakened, agitating his sleep until he'd left the bed long before his alarm clock rang. But, he was determined to control it, to discipline it. He kept to his routine, having his breakfast, having his coffee.
In the newspaper, an article disputed the rumor that Mohandas K. Gandhi was starving himself while held at Poona. Surreal, to read something unrelated to the war. More related was the news about the Food Requirements Committee. Coupons allotting two-and-a-half weekly pounds of meat per household were going to be printed. Word of this was spurring panic buying, so now there was a meat shortage.
Max tried to keep his eyes off his watch and scanned the War News Summary. The Marines raided Makin Island in the Pacific...the Russians fought Nazi troops in the Caucasus...
He couldn't hold the urgency that churned his gut any more. Max strode out of his quarters and down the little gravel trail that led to his office, and if he hadn't known better, he would have sworn he saw someone silhouetted, standing on the rise behind his house. By the time the image really connected, the silhouette was gone. It made him think of the Navajo farmer, that so-called healer.
That was all it took to keep Alma Curar in his thoughts. The man's image mingled with that uncomfortable urgency, and by noon Max did something out of character. He did something impulsive. He pressed the intercom key and, when the WAAC's voice came tinny over the speaker, he said, "Corporal, call Mrs. Tebbe's office. I'm on my way to Tulenar right now."
/ / / /
Not two hundred yards into the camp's gate Max came upon Alma Curar's old truck, a handful of evacuees picking over the goods in the bed. Max couldn't stop himself from ordering the driver to slow. Alma Curar began walking toward his car. Max had the driver stop.
"Good afternoon, Captain."
"Hello, Mr. Alma Curar..."
"I was beginning to think I might not see you again."
Max smiled as best he could and avoided staring at the healer's jewelry. "How's business?"
"Business is good. But the day feels odd, doesn't it?" He looked evenly at Max.
"I don't know what you mean."
"I mean there a sense of. ..I don't know...urgency in the air?"
Max swallowed. "All things have become urgent since the war began, Mr. Alma Curar."
"Which war do you mean?"
Max pulled himself up. "Listen. These people are struggling enough without that kind of rhetoric. There's only one war, mister. And it's not the U.S. against the evacuees. I better not hear of you stirring up trouble."
"So I've been warned twice in as many days." He took a step away from Max's car. "On your way to see Mrs. Tebbe?"
"What I'm doing here is none of your concern." Max snapped at the driver to move on as if it had been the corporal's idea to stop in the first place. Alma Curar barely had time to step away.
/ / / /
When Harriet Haku showed Max to the C.A.'s office, Mrs. Tebbe was leaning back in her chair, arms crossed. "Captain, so nice of you to drop in without an appointment."
Max watched Harriet close the door and asked, "What happened to your secretary?"
"She was bullied by the Inu Hunters two nights ago."
"Is she all right?"
"Well enough. Is that why you're here, to pay your respects to Harriet?"
"Mrs. Tebbe, I wouldn't have come on such short notice if I didn't have a good reason. May I sit?"