Red Berries, White Clouds, Blue Sky (19 page)

“He worked very hard,” Mom said. “Your
baba
told me he was the hardest-working boy in the family. And he learned English before he came here.”

“But I did not speak it as well as your mother did. She studied it with a tutor. Your mother was born into a wealthy family. I was lucky to marry her.”

Tomi knew the story. Mom’s older sisters had married rich men. Then Tomi’s grandfather lost his money gambling, and he couldn’t find a husband for Mom. He decided then that Mom should marry a well-to-do American. Mom smiled at Pop. “My mother and father thought all Americans were rich. So that is why I became a picture bride. Your father looked at all the pictures of girls who wanted
to marry a Japanese man in America and picked me.”

“And you found out I wasn’t rich,” Pop said. “All I had was a silver dollar.”

“I am rich in family,” she told him. “I don’t want anything else.”

“I was very lucky when I chose your mother’s picture. I did not know she could speak English. It was a nice surprise. She taught me much.” Pop smiled at Mom. He didn’t do that often anymore.

“I was very happy he picked me. I thought he was so handsome he could have married a movie star.” She smiled back at Pop. “I still think he is handsome.”

Pop patted Mom’s hand. “I made a good choice. You are a good wife, even though you don’t stay home anymore.”

“I am an American wife,” Mom said. “My husband doesn’t tell me what to do.”

Tomi grinned at her parents. They hadn’t joked with each other much lately. She was glad she had questioned them about coming to America. She asked what it was like when Pop first arrived.

“Very confusing,” Pop replied. “In the beginning, I thought I would get a job in the city. No more farming for me. No getting my hands dirty. But I didn’t like so many
people crowded together. I didn’t like the tall buildings either. I went to work for Mr. Lawrence. He is a good man. He taught me how to farm in California.” Pop frowned. “That is, he
was
a good man. I think he has forgotten about me now.”

Mom shook her head. “No, no. He doesn’t know where you are. That’s all. We will go back when the war is over.”

“Bah!” Pop said.

“Was America what
you
expected it to be, Mom?” Tomi asked.

“It was pretty good, but maybe not as good as I had expected,” Mom replied. “Your pop wrote me that he lived in a big house with a servant.”

“I didn’t want you to get discouraged and marry somebody else,” Pop said. “That’s why I wrote that.”

Mom laughed. “But you were right when you said America was better than Japan.”

Pop nodded. “That’s what I thought then. I believed that in America, I could be anything I wanted. I didn’t have to be a farmer unless I chose to be. I knew if I worked hard, I could make a good living, and I was right. After all, we had a house with running water and electricity and three bedrooms. In Japan, we would have lived in one
room with maybe an oil lamp, and your mother would have had to carry water from a well. Women did the hard work there.”

“Women do the hard work here, too,” Mom said and glanced toward Pop. “One thing I like about America is women don’t have to obey the men,” she said with a smile.

“I don’t like that so much,” Pop laughed and gave Mom a little poke, and she laughed too. “I thought America would be a better place to raise children. I chose America for you and Roy and Hiro,” Pop said.

“We both chose it,” Mom added. The two of them looked at each other for a long time.

Tomi couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her parents enjoy themselves so much. It was almost as if they were back on the farm in California.

But then Pop frowned. “I thought it was a pretty good country, too, until the war came along. Then I learned America isn’t for a Japanese man or a Japanese woman. It isn’t for Japanese children who are born in America either. Even in Japan, I never saw so much hate. In America, they lock you up just because you look different. They blame you for the war because you came from Japan. The government can take everything you worked for and throw you in
jail. Bah!”

“Are you sorry you came here then?” This time Mom asked the question.

Pop didn’t answer, only shrugged as if he couldn’t make up his mind.

“I’m not sorry,” Mom said. “Even in this camp, I’m not sorry. This is a better life for me than what I had. Women can do more here than in Japan.”

“In an internment camp?” Pop had turned glum again. “I came to America because I believed in it. Now I don’t believe anymore.”

Tomi thought that over. “Then do you believe you would be better off if you never came here?”

Pop didn’t say anything for a long time. Tomi thought he wouldn’t answer her. Finally he said, “Who can tell? Maybe if I had stayed in Japan, I would be fighting against America. I wouldn’t like that.”

“If you refused to fight in the Japanese army, maybe you would get sent to a camp worse than this one,” Mom told him. “What about that?”

Pop didn’t have an answer. He left then to join the old men who sat in the sun and complained. Mom sat down by the window and began stitching. Tomi pulled a chair to the
table and jotted down a few notes for her essay.

“What are you writing?” Mom asked as she looked up from her sewing.

“Just homework,” Tomi replied.

1945 | CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ROY’S LETTER

TOMI
was still thinking about what to write in her essay when Roy’s weekly letter to the family arrived. He had finished basic training and had been shipped overseas to fight in Europe with the 442nd Infantry. The family was proud of him, even Pop, Tomi thought, although Pop didn’t say so. There was a picture of Roy in his uniform on the table, beside a jar of paper flowers. Roy’s letters were kept in a wooden box next to the vase. And in the window was a banner with a blue star to show that a member of the Itano family was fighting in the war.

Pop had been against Roy’s joining the army, of course, although he admitted, “It is a good thing to be a warrior. It brings honor to the family.” Once, Tomi had heard her father brag to the old men that his son would kill many
enemy soldiers. “A good, brave boy,” he’d said. Still, he made it clear he didn’t approve of his son fighting for his country.

Roy wrote every week, addressing his letters to the entire family. Pop was the only one who was allowed to open them, however. He read them to himself. Then if he was in a good mood, he read them to the rest of the family. Sometimes, he handed a letter to Mom, who read it to Tomi and Hiro. Later, Mom read the letters over and over to herself when she was alone. More than once, Tomi came into the apartment and found Mom crying over one of Roy’s letters. “I don’t care if he is a good warrior,” she admitted to Tomi once. “I just want him to come home.”

“I know you’re worried he’ll get hurt,” Tomi told her. She’d almost said “die” instead of “hurt,” but she knew Mom didn’t want to think about that possibility. Neither did Tomi.

“Of course I worry. I worry about all of my children. But I worry most about Roy. The men in the 442nd Infantry do such dangerous fighting. They have received many medals for their bravery. They also receive many Purple Heart medals because they are wounded in battle. Maybe your pop was right. Maybe Roy should have refused to
enlist in the army.”

“You know he would have joined no matter what Pop said.”

“Maybe he wouldn’t if he’d known how much his father worries about him.”

“I thought you and I were the only ones who worried. Pop says if something happens to Roy, it’s his own fault. He even says it would serve Roy right for disobeying his father.”

Mom nodded. “Your pop is angry, all right. Still, I know that he is afraid something will happen to Roy. There are so many things that upset him these days. Pop resents that there is no work for him, while I have a job and bring in money to pay for what we need. That makes him feel useless. He believes he can no longer protect his family. After all, he couldn’t keep the government from sending us to Tallgrass. He feels he is not head of our family any longer. But he worries most, I think, because he cannot keep Roy safe.”

Tomi stared at the vase of paper flowers and thought
about what to write in her essay. Mrs. Hayashi had made the flowers for Mom the day Roy left. Tomi removed one of the flowers and studied the way the paper was folded into a shape. Then she glanced down at the wooden box where Roy’s letters were kept. She returned the flower to the vase and asked, “What happened to the letter from Roy that came yesterday? It’s not in the box. You never read it to us.”

Mom had stopped sewing and was staring out the window. She shook her head. “I never read it either. Pop wouldn’t show it to me.”

Tomi frowned. “Did he open it?”

“Oh, yes. He read it and didn’t say a word. He just put it into his coat pocket.”

Both Mom and Tomi turned their heads to stare at Pop’s coat, which was hanging on a nail on the wall. The day was warm, and Pop had left the apartment wearing his sweater.

“Where is Pop?” Tomi asked.

“He went to the canteen to drink tea with the men.”

Tomi frowned. Then she asked, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Mom shook her head. “Oh, Tomi, your father would
be so angry if he found out I read Roy’s letter without his permission.”

“The letter wasn’t just for Pop. Roy sent it to all of us. He addressed it to Mr. and Mrs. Itano, Tomi, and Hiro.”

“That’s true, but you know Pop believes the letters are his.”

“You do other things Pop doesn’t like. You work as a teacher.”

“That cannot be helped.” Mom put the needle into her sewing and looked out the window again. “I am afraid that Roy has been hurt and that your pop does not want me to know. He is trying to protect me.”

Tomi nodded. She had been thinking that, too. She went across the room and put her hand on Mom’s shoulder. Mom stared down at the sewing in her lap and gave a little laugh. “There. Look at what I’ve done. The stitches are so bad I will have to take them out.”

“That’s because you’re worried. What is better, knowing or not knowing?” Tomi asked.

Mom thought that over. “I think it is not knowing. Maybe Roy was hurt only a little. I would be happy to know that. It would be better than worrying that he is in a bad way.” She gave a little gasp. “What if he is dead, and
I don’t know? Your father has no right to keep that from me.” She put the sewing aside and stood up. “You won’t tell if I open the letter, will you? I can’t bear not knowing what is in it.”

“Of course I won’t tell. The letter is for me, too, Mom.”

“I am a poor wife,” Mom said.

“But you are a good mother.”

Mom squeezed Tomi’s shoulder. Then she went to Pop’s coat and drew out the letter. She took a deep breath and opened it. “Dear family,” she began. She read the letter quickly to herself, and then her eyes grew wide, and she looked up at Tomi.

“What?” Tomi asked.

“I understand now why Pop hid the letter.”

Tomi came close to the paper and tried to make out the writing. “Is Roy hurt?”

“Oh, no.” Mom put the letter down by her side for a moment. Then she raised it and said, “I’ll read it to you.” She moved her finger down the lines of writing until she found the place she wanted. Then she read,