Silent Honor (40 page)

And then at last, Germany surrendered in May. But Japan still fought on. And in June, they fought the bloody battle of Okinawa. It seemed as though the war in Japan would never end, and she would never be able to go home. But all she could do was wait, and a month after the war in Europe was over, she still had no news of Peter.

Charles Spencer kindly inquired again, but his status was still the same. Missing in action. But still, she refused to believe that she and Toyo had lost him forever.

And at the end of June, the Spencers moved to Lake Tahoe for the summer. At first they planned to leave her in town, and then they asked her to join them at their house on the lake, and as she thought of it, she realized it would be wonderful for Toyo.

Anne graduated from St. Andrew's just before they went, and Hiroko thought about her with a smile that morning. She had hardly seen her in months. She had rarely come home from school on weekends. Most of the time she either went away, or stayed for dances. And during holidays, she went to Santa Barbara or Palm Springs, or to New York to see her sister, who had had another baby. But whenever Hiroko did see Anne, though it was rare, she was always pleasant. They had an odd relationship, it was not friendship, and yet they both recognized that there was a bond between them.

And in Lake Tahoe, she was always surrounded by friends who came up to visit, especially for the weekend. They stayed with them, water-skied, played tennis, rode one of several speedboats. The others had had to be put away, as they needed their gas ration coupons for the drive back and forth to Tahoe.

It reminded Hiroko of when she had come to the lake with the Tanakas when she had first come from Japan. It had been four years, four years of war and agony throughout the world. And yet, here people were still playing tennis and driving speedboats. It was an odd feeling, watching them, and yet their giving up tennis or boats or having fun wouldn't have ended the war either.

Toyo particularly loved being there, and just as they were in town, the servants were extremely kind to him. And in Tahoe, Hiroko frequently served dinner, particularly when they had guests or dinner parties. And one night, one of the Spencers' guests asked how they had managed to keep her, indicating Hiroko.

“All ours went to Topaz, you know. Damn shame. Best servants we've ever had. What did you do, Charles?” He joked with him, but Charles did not look amused. “Did you hide her?”

“I believe she was in Tule Lake,” Charles Spencer said stiffly. “She only came to us in January of this year. As I understand it, she went through a lot there.” His words and his expression silenced the other man completely. But there were others who stared at her, who watched her, and who didn't hesitate to make comments.

“I don't know how you can keep her here, and eat dinner with her standing behind you,” one of Margaret's friends said one day at lunch in Lake Tahoe. “When you think of what those people are doing to our boys over there, it ruins my appetite. Margaret, you must have a very strong stomach.” Margaret Spencer did not respond, but as she glanced in Hiroko's direction, their eyes met, and then Hiroko quickly lowered hers. She had heard it all, and she understood. She had done penance to please people like her. In some ways, the Spencers were different from their friends. They had been appalled by the camps, and saddened when their employees had been sent away for internment. But there had been absolutely no way to stop it.

And at a dinner party, a friend of Charles had left their dinner table, because he had lost a son at Okinawa and he refused to be served by Hiroko. Hiroko had gone to her room quietly after that, and the Spencers let her go for her own sake. She had her own losses to think of too, Yuji, Ken, Peter, Tak. So many had been lost, there was so much sorrow and pain that needed to be healed now.

But in August, while the Allies divided up the Reich, the Americans finally got even at Hiroshima. It made everyone who had ever hated the Japanese, even for a single moment, feel vindicated, and yet again after the bombing at Nagasaki. At last, the war was over. And exactly four weeks later, the Japanese surrendered over Labor Day weekend. It was the Spencers' last weekend at Lake Tahoe before moving back to the city.

“What are you going to do now?” Anne asked her quietly. They were alone in the dining room the next morning.

“I'd like to go home when I can.”

“I don't suppose things will settle down there for a while.” Anne nodded at her, and Hiroko looked tired. She had been following the news for weeks. She was desperately worried about her parents. It seemed hard to believe anyone could have survived the endless bombings. And yet obviously some people had. She only prayed her parents were among them. And still there was no news from Peter. But she couldn't go in both directions. And she would have had no idea of how to find him in Europe.

“Your family has been very good to me,” Hiroko said before she left the room again, not wanting to intrude on Anne's breakfast.

“You've been good to us too.” She smiled at her. “How's Toyo?”

“Getting big and fat in the kitchen,” Hiroko laughed. He was making up for lost time and a lot of bad food at Tule Lake. He was two and a half years old, and the darling of everyone
in
the Spencers' household.

Anne didn't ask if there had been news of his father. She knew there hadn't. And her father had said again that it was obvious Hiroko's friend was dead. It was a damn shame and he was sorry.

Hiroko waited another month, and went back to the city with them, and then she gave them her notice. Anne was moving to New York for a year, to be near her sister, and go to parties and meet people there. And Hiroko had learned that she could get passage on the U.S.S.
General W. P. Richardson
to Kobe in mid-October.

Even she had no illusions by then. She hadn't heard from Peter in fourteen months. And the war in Europe had been over for five of them. There simply wasn't any way they wouldn't have found him, if he were alive. And she admitted as much to Reiko when she called and told her she was leaving for Japan to see her parents.

“It's hard to believe we lost all three of them, isn't it? Ken, Tak …and Peter.” And she had lost her brother too. It was so unfair. They had lost so much, and others had lost so little. She couldn't help thinking of the Spencers, even though they had been so kind to her. But they had scarcely noticed the war, except for the fact that it had improved some of their investments. Their son had been 4-F and had stayed home, their son-in-law had been kept in Washington during the entire war, and none of their daughters had lost husbands or even boyfriends. Anne had made her debut during the war, and she had graduated in June, right after Germany surrendered. All nice and neat and clean and simple. Maybe that was just the way life worked sometimes. There were those who paid, and those who didn't. And yet, in spite of that, Hiroko had to admit she liked them. The Spencers were good people, and they'd been wonderful to her and Toyo.

But Reiko was very worried about her going to Japan, especially alone with Toyo, but there was no one to go with her, or provide her escort.

“I'll be all right, Aunt Rei. The Americans are over there. Things will be fairly well controlled before I get there.”

“Maybe less so than you think. Why don't you come here instead, and wait until you hear from your parents.” But she had already tried to reach them, by telegram. It was impossible. Everyone had told her there was no way to contact anyone there. And she owed it to them to go to see them. It was time for her to go home now. They had their losses too, and despite the shock it might give them, she wanted them to see Toyo. He was their grandson and he might comfort them a little after losing her brother.

And when Sally got on the phone, she told Hiroko the news. She and Tad were expecting a baby.

“You didn't waste a minute,” Hiroko said, and Sally laughed shyly, sounding very young and very happy.

“Neither did you,” she dared from three thousand miles away, sounding like the old Sally that Hiroko knew and alternately loved and hated, but this time she laughed good-humoredly.

“I guess you're right.”

But Sally's mother had already warned her not to ask Hiroko about Peter. The situation was hopeless.

She spoke to Tad and congratulated him too. The baby was due in April.

And the day before she left for Japan, she called them again, and this time she had a long, serious talk with Reiko. She was worried about what would happen to Hiroko in Japan, if things went wrong and there was no one there to help her.

“I'll go to the Americans and ask for help, I promise, Aunt Rei. Don't worry.”

“And what if they won't help you? You're Japanese, you're not American.” She was always on the wrong side somehow. To Hiroko it seemed ironic, but it terrified Reiko.

“I'll figure something out,” she promised. “I'll be fine.”

“You're too young to be going there alone,” Reiko insisted.

“Aunt Rei, it's my home. I've got to go back now. I have to see my parents.” Reiko didn't dare suggest to her that they might be gone too, but Hiroko was well aware of it. She needed to know what had happened, just as she did with Peter. But in his case she had to accept what she couldn't discover on her own. In their case, it was different. They had relatives and friends. She had had a fife there and someone would know where her parents were.

“I want you to contact me as soon as you can,” Reiko made Hiroko promise.

“I will. It must be a real mess over there though.”

“I'm sure it is.” The stories about Hiroshima were unbelievable, beyond awful. But Hiroko was going nowhere near there, or Reiko would have objected even harder.

And then, regretfully, she and her cousins said good-bye, and that night Hiroko packed their things in her small room, feeling sad as she did it. She really hated to leave the Spencers.

And in the morning, Anne's father surprised her. He handed her a thousand dollars
in
cash, as a bonus, in addition to her salary. To Hiroko, it was a fortune.

“You'll need it for the boy,” he said kindly, and she accepted it, knowing he was right, and deeply grateful to him.

“You've done so much for us,” she said, thanking him and his wife, and Anne insisted on taking her to the boat, with the driver.

“I can take a cab, Anne,” Hiroko said, smiling at her. “You don't have to do that.”

“I want to. Somehow, we missed the boat,” she said, laughing at the pun. “Maybe if I'd been a little smarter then, or a little more worldly and grown-up, we'd have been friends. But I wasn't.”

“You've done so much for me,” Hiroko said, unable to imagine how much more it might have been if she'd added friendship. But she hadn't minded working for them. The job had been menial, but it had served a purpose, given her a home, and fed her and Toyo. That all made it worth doing, and the Spencers had always been extremely kind and pleasant, as had their servants.

She tried objecting again, but Anne insisted on taking her to the ship with the chauffeur. The others all came out to say good-bye, and her parents waved from an upstairs window. And Toyo watched them all sadly as they drove away, with his belongings in the trunk of the Lincoln. He had no idea where they were going, and he was too young to understand it.

“We're going to Japan to find your grandparents,” she had said to him, but he didn't know what that was yet.

And Anne looked at her with concern as they headed toward the Embarcadero. “Will you be all right there?”

“No worse than anywhere else I've been in the last four years.” Her life had been an adventure for several years now.

“What will you do if you don't find them?” It was a cruel thing to ask, but she felt she had to.

“I'm not sure.” Hiroko couldn't even imagine it. She still couldn't accept the idea that Peter was gone. She said she did to those who asked, mostly so they wouldn't argue with her, like Charles Spencer or Tadashi, but the truth was, she still didn't believe it. “I can't imagine that they're not there,” she said to Anne. “When I think of Japan, I think of my parents. I
see
them,” she said, closing her eyes, as though to demonstrate to her. And as she did, they reached the pier, and the car stopped slowly. “I'll find them,” she said, reassuring herself as much as Anne. “I have to.” She had no one else now, except Toyo.

“Come back, if you need to,” Anne said, but they both knew she wouldn't do that. More than likely, if she did come back to the States, she would join her cousins in New Jersey. But she didn't want to be with them now either. They had their own lives. She had to find hers. And she wanted to go home. For Hiroko, it would complete an important circle.

She and Anne stood looking at each other for a long moment, with the ship behind them. Toyo was holding Hiroko's hand, and the chauffeur was watching their bags, ready to find a porter.

“You always seem to be there when I leave,” Hiroko said, trying to find the words to thank her for all she'd done, but she couldn't.

“I wish I'd been there in the beginning,” Anne said softly, and this time she took her in her arms and hugged her.

“Thank you,” Hiroko said, with tears in her eyes, and when she pulled away from Anne, she saw that she was crying too.

“I hope you find them,” Anne said hoarsely, and then turned to Toyo. “Be good, little man, take care of your mommy.” She gave him a kiss, and then stood to look at Hiroko. “If you need me, call me …write to me …send a telegram … do something.”

“I will.” Hiroko smiled. “Take care of yourself, Anne.” And she meant it.

“Be safe, Hiroko. Be careful. It will be dangerous over there.” It was what Reiko and Tadashi had told her, and she knew they all were right. The entire country was in chaos. People would have moved mountains to get away from there just then, and instead, she was going. But she knew she had to.

“Thank you,” Hiroko said, and squeezed her hand, and then she walked away with the chauffeur and waved, and so did Toyo.

He found a porter for her, and she went up the gangplank holding Toyo's hand, waving at them. And a little while later, she found her cabin. It was small and spare, and it had a single porthole. At least they'd have air on the two-week trip. And she went back up on deck with him then, so Toyo could see the ship set sail and see all the excitement. There were, as always, balloons and music and a festive air, even though they weren't going to a happy place. But it was the first ship that had sailed for Japan since Pearl Harbor.