Within These Lines

by Stephanie Morrill

  Mary takes in Lorenzo’s uniform. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for serving our country.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be shipping out soon,” Lorenzo says, as if he was asked. To me, he adds, “I ate this afternoon at your family’s restaurant. Best homemade pastas in all of San Francisco, I say.”

  “Thank you. I agree, but I’m biased.”

  Gia beams at the two of us, clearly pleased by Lorenzo’s efforts to compliment my family. “Their meatball sandwich is my favorite. Anything with their mozzarella, really. You know, Tony’s dad is the one who makes it. I love watching.”

  “Do you know where you’re being sent, Lorenzo?” Mary asks.

  “Dunno. Probably Asia.” With a grin, Lorenzo adds, “I’m hoping so, anyway. I’m dying to hunt me some Japs.”

  I feel my heart pause, and then break into a gallop. I look up at Gia. Her eyes are wide, and she shakes her head at me. As if that’s going to stop me.

  I snap a carrot stick with my teeth. “That seems like a rather crude way to refer to taking the life of fellow human beings.”

  Lorenzo startles at my cold voice. His gaze scrapes down the length of me, sizing up my stark, black attire. “They killed friends of mine at Pearl Harbor. Unprovoked.”

  “I’m aware of that. It’s terrible. But there’s still a more respectful way—”

  Lorenzo barks a laugh. “Gia said you’ve turned into quite the Jap lover. I just didn’t realize you were rooting for them over your own boys.”

  My mouth falls open. Gia’s cheeks burn scarlet, and she’s suddenly captivated by her plate. How could she have told Lorenzo about Taichi? In an instant my anger turns from ice cold to boiling.

  “That is not at all true—”

  “The Japanese are swallowing up every country they can, preying on the weak. Do you know what those men would do to you if they were ever to land on our shores? I don’t want to give you nightmares, so I’ll just say that you would be begging me to kill them if that happened.”

  “Lorenzo, you’ve crossed a line,” Tony says in a quiet, gentle voice.

  Lorenzo turns his glare from me to Tony. “I’m not surprised to hear you say that. Considering you don’t even have the guts to enlist.”

  Poor Mary looks like she would rather be anywhere but here, and I don’t blame her.

  “You guys.” Gia’s tone is light and playful. “This is supposed to be a party.”

  A beat of uncomfortable silence falls. I keep my teeth clamped over my lower lip so I don’t yell at Lorenzo anymore and try to corral the wild galloping of my heart.

  “Sorry,” Lorenzo says—to Gia, not to us.

  “We’re all grateful, Lorenzo, that you’re serving our country.” Gia looks to me and bobs her head, as if encouraging me to second her words. “Right?”

  I scowl at her. “I have a headache.”

  I stalk all the way home.

  When Mama and Daddy return from the picnic that evening, they’re only home a few minutes before Mama comes up to check on me.

  “Hi, honey.” Mama sinks onto my bed and presses her wrist against my forehead. “How are you feeling?”

  “It was just a headache. I’m better now.”

  Mama doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Gia thought maybe you left because you were upset. Not because of a headache.”

  Gia should keep her mouth shut.

  “Lorenzo is insufferable.”

  Mama frowns. “He’s serving our country, Evalina. He deserves our respect.”

  “Does he? He’s the same boy who took Mrs. Rando’s car for a joyride and crashed it.”

  “Technically, yes.” Mama smooths my hair out of my face like she used to when I was a young girl and needed soothing. “But in many ways, he’s not the same boy. Just because you were troubled in your youth, it doesn’t mean you’re troubled forever. Don’t you think our family heritage proves that, Evalina?”

  I don’t like thinking about our family heritage.

  “He called the Japanese ‘Japs.’”

  “Ah.” She sounds satisfied, as though she’s solved the puzzle. “Was he speaking of Japanese Americans?”

  “No. The Japanese military, specifically. But it’s still not a nice way to talk about other people.”

  “You’ve always been very tenderhearted, Evalina. We love that about you.”

  I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t, so I sit up. “You think I shouldn’t have argued with Lorenzo because he’s serving our country?”

  “I wasn’t there, Evalina. I don’t know.”

  “He was rude to Tony too. And he was speaking about very crass matters.”

  “Then I’m glad you didn’t continue to converse with him, but you didn’t have to let him ruin the whole party for you.” Mama rests a hand on my shoulder. “Though I’m not sure you were in a mindset to enjoy it, were you?”

  “Not really.”

  “I think our vacation is coming at an excellent time. All three of us are feeling so worn out right now, and we will really be able to enjoy getting away, I think.”

  Especially if I can maybe see Taichi. My heart kicks up a notch as I consider asking Mama.

  Mama sighs. “There’s still so much to be done. We’ll have your graduation next week, and I have to get the house clean.”

  “So it can gather dust while we’re gone?”

  “Mrs. LaRocca will be coming by the house to water my plants and keep an eye on things. I don’t want her having to deal with a messy house. Oh, and I have to visit my brother before I go.” She wrinkles her nose at me. “I never look forward to that.”

  I take a bracing breath. “Speaking of visiting people in prison—”

  Mama laughs. “I’m very curious to hear where this leads.”

  My stomach pitches on a sea of nervousness. “I was looking at a map, and I saw that Mono Lake is really not that far from Manzanar, California. Which I’ve heard is where the Hamasaki family is living right now.”

  Mama’s smile fades from her face. “That’s not really speaking of visiting people in prison, Evalina. They’re not incarcerated, they’re . . . evacuated. For safety purposes.”

  Bitterness slicks my throat. Safety purposes. What a lie.

  “Do you remember what I told you about Tanforan? The barbed wire? The soldiers with guns? It sure looked like prison to me.”

  “I know, and it’s awful, but that’s not a permanent location. And they probably have the fence up to protect the Japanese. You know as well as I do that there are many who would harm them if they thought they could get away with it. I’m sure the permanent communities where they’ve been evacuated to don’t feel like actual prisons.”

  I make myself swallow the combative words sitting on my tongue. I need Mama on my side.

  “Regardless, I saw we’ll be quite close to Manzanar—”

  “How close?”

  I swallow again. “About a hundred miles.”

  Mama huffs an amused laugh. “I don’t call that ‘quite close.’”

  My dream of seeing Taichi slips through my fingers as though I’d been trying to hold a handful of water. “Yes, but . . .”

  But what? What is there to say, really?

  Mama’s gaze latches on me. I look away.

  “Evalina,” she says softly. “The Hamasakis are a lovely family, and we were sorry to lose them as suppliers. But considering we never knew them as friends, it seems like a lot of effort to take a day of our vacation just to go see them.”

  I nod, but I keep my eyes focused on my hands. I fear if I look at her, she will know everything.

  “Evalina, are you . . . ?” She lowers her voice to just a notch above a whisper. “Did you have, well, feelings for the Hamasaki boy?”

  I cannot seem to speak or even breathe. What would she say if I answered yes? If I said we’d been seeing each other for the last year? That six months ago, I went to the library to research which states allowed interracial marriage?

  Mama’s breathing becomes lo
ud and even, the way it sounds when you’re focused on calming yourself. “I see.” She folds her hands on her lap. “He seemed like a lovely young man, but I’m sure you already know that encouraging such feelings is . . . unwise.”

  My anger flares at her words, yet I know this is nothing compared to what Taichi and I will face from the rest of the world. I know if I can’t keep my head together for my mother’s mild discouragement, then we have no chance of making this work.

  Mama stands. I’m eager for her to be gone, to leave me to my stewing, but she lingers in the doorway. “He really did seem very nice, Evalina.”

  Dear Taichi,

  Do you remember me telling you about the trip my family is making to Yosemite in June? One of the places we’re visiting, Mono Lake, is actually on the east side of the Sierras, and I happened to notice that it’s not too far from Manzanar! I am trying to figure out how I can get down to see you.

  Ordinarily I might try and surprise you, but at Tanforan guests needed special passes to be able to visit. I know you’ve said Manzanar is very different, but I would hate to get there and not be able to see you just because I had hoped to keep my visit a surprise.

  We are in Mono Lake on June 18 and 19, so if I’m able to come, it will be one of those days. Please write back as soon as you can to let me know if those dates will work. I’m hoping there is enough time for your response to reach me before we leave.

  And pray that I’m able to talk my parents into this!

  Love always,

  Evalina

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Taichi

  Saturday, June 6, 1942

  I can’t stop reading Evalina’s letter.

  What is she thinking, asking her parents if they can come visit here? Isn’t it going to be just a little obvious that I’m not simply the guy she buys blackberries from if she asks to come visit me?

  They’ll say no, of course. There’s no way they want to give up vacation time to come see me here, and I don’t blame them one bit. Why would she have even asked?

  And what if . . . ?

  My eyes slide closed with the horror of the thought. What if she came here? What if she saw how we live? Seeing Tanforan horrified her so much. What if she saw our barbed wire fences that they’ve begun to stretch around the camp, our guard towers that seem to double each day, and our military police? How could she ever have any respect for me again? How could I ever expect her parents to approve of us being together if they saw what I’ve been reduced to in Manzanar?

  I make myself take a few breaths.

  “Hi, Taichi.”

  At Rose’s greeting, I jam Evalina’s letter into the pocket of my pants. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  “Mailing a letter to my father.” Rose holds up the letter as if displaying evidence. “He’s in North Dakota.”

  I flinch. I hadn’t realized her father was a prisoner. “I’m sorry. My uncle is too. He was a fisherman.”

  “Same. They took my father just a few days after Pearl Harbor. We didn’t know what had happened to him until we got a letter from North Dakota. You?”

  I swallow as I remember those terrifying days that were so similar for our family. Three days had passed before Aunt Chiyu telephoned to tell us that she had received a letter from him, that he was being held in North Dakota for an undetermined amount of time.

  “Yes. Us too,” I say to Rose as she drops the letter into the box. “I’m so sorry.”

  She gestures to the bat and glove I’m carrying, clearly ready for a subject change. “Are you playing now?”

  “I am.” I’m probably late. I had intended to just stop by the post office, not stand here for minute after minute rereading Evalina’s letter.

  “I’ll walk with you. If you don’t mind.”

  “Sure.”

  We start along the dusty road toward the baseball fields. The sounds of hammering fill the air as another guard tower goes up. I’m prepared for a quiet walk, but Rose says, “Six months tomorrow. Doesn’t it feel like longer?”

  I nod, my chest suddenly tight. “Where were you when you heard the news?”

  “I was standing on the dock watching my father’s fishing boat go out, along with some other families. And then we realized that the boats were coming back. That had never happened. We were standing there trying to think of why, and then this man we didn’t know came running by shouting that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor.” Rose laughs a small, humorless laugh. “I didn’t even know what that was. Where it was. And he just kept running, spreading the news. Like a Japanese Paul Revere.” She turns to me. “Where were you?”

  In an instant, I’m there in my tiny kitchen. It feels like another life, Sunday morning, December seventh. We were home from church and working together to put lunch on the table before Father and I would head out to take care of the rest of the farm chores. I had been at the sink, working away stubborn grit under my fingernails. My thoughts had been on Evalina, on the city boys that she went to school and church with, who always had clean hands.

  “It was a completely ordinary Sunday.” I shove my hands in my pockets, and Evalina’s letter crunches. “I was helping get lunch ready when they announced it on the radio. My parents seemed to understand right away what this could mean for us. That night we started burning anything Japanese. I thought they were overreacting.”

  “Me too.” Rose’s voice is small.

  We’re silent for a bit. Tumbleweeds beat against the new fence as the wind blows, as if desperate to break into camp.

  “I wonder if my father and your uncle know each other.” Rose’s smile is soft. “Wouldn’t that be something?”

  “I hope they’re here soon.”

  Rose nods. “Here is better than there, I’m guessing.”

  What a sorry thing to think about.

  “Have a good game, Taichi.” Rose seems embarrassed or shy or something as she waves goodbye and splits off to join the other spectators.

  I jog over to my team and start my routine of stretches. The hard corners of Evalina’s letter poke into my thigh.

  I don’t want to hurt her feelings by acting like I don’t want her here. But it’s not like I need to worry, because surely her parents will never agree to the visit. I’ll write back with an enthusiastic yes, I’ll get the guest passes for the days she mentioned, and then I’ll pray they go unused.

  The barrack door swings open, and Aiko stomps inside before yanking the door shut. Her nurse’s uniform has smears of blood on the skirt and sleeve, and her shoes are thick with dust. Something about the gray lighting of the room, or the fierce expression on her face, calls attention to how sharp her cheekbones have become since our arrival.

  I lay down the issue of the Manzanar Free Press that I had been reading. “Bad day?”

  “Just frustrating.” Aiko plops onto her cot, sending up a puff of dust, and digs underneath for her towel and soap. “Sometimes at work I just feel so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid.”

  “Tell that to the patient who I thought was having stomach cramps from food poisoning, and it turned out to be appendicitis.” Aiko rips off her nurse’s cap and flings it against the wall. “In front of Ichiro, of course. What are you reading that for?”

  The subject change is so abrupt that it takes me a moment to realize she’s talking about the newspaper. “Just seeing what’s going on in camp, that’s all.”

  Aiko makes a sour face. “It’s just a mouthpiece for the administration, Taichi.”

  “No, it’s all residents who put it together.”

  “I’m not disputing that. It’s still a mouthpiece for the administration. Did you do something with my soap?”

  “Why would I have done something with your soap?”

  “I don’t know, but I swear I put it—There it is. Never mind.” Aiko sits upright. “I stopped trusting the paper when they didn’t say a word about Hikoji getting shot by that guard.”

  A zip of fear races through me, the way it do
es anytime I hear Hikoji’s name. No one witnessed it, but the story zoomed all over camp that after going through a scrap lumber pile around the edge of camp—l ike all the families do—Hikoji was headed back toward his barrack when an MP fired his rifle for no reason. The MP claimed Hikoji was trying to run off, but none of us believe it.

  “How is he?” I ask. “Is he still at the hospital?”

  “Released, finally. He screamed so much in his sleep.” She shudders. “And the newspaper doesn’t even have the dignity to report it. Or maybe they tried, but the administration took it out. Either way, I’m not touching another issue.”

  With that, Aiko stalks out of the barrack and toward the shower room.

  “Norman, get down from there!”

  I look up to find Norman in the rafters, looking down at me with a bright grin. I make myself smile back. He’s just a kid. What else is he going to do but turn this place into a big playground?

  I chuck the newspaper onto the table that Father built with scrap wood. Everyone goes through the piles to get what they need to make hooks for their walls, tables, or chairs. What happened to Hikoji could have happened to any one of us, and as far as I know, whoever shot him is still walking the boundary lines or up in the new towers.

  And there’s nothing for us to do but sit here and take it.

  Evalina

  Tuesday, June 16, 1942

  Daddy fits his arm around Mama’s shoulders as we watch the sun turn the iconic Half Dome a blazing orange, and then he puts his other arm around me. “I have everything I need right here.”

  I make myself smile back at his beaming face, guilt twisting at my heart for not being able to echo the sentiment. For not feeling capable of freely giving myself to this moment, to this blessing of a vacation. But how can my heart not be fragmented at a time like this? How can I feel joy when Taichi’s family has been stripped of everything that belonged to them? When Diego is away at basic training, preparing to go to war? When families on our street are losing people they love?

  Before we left town, Gia had grabbed hold of my hand and scrubbed nail polish remover on my lone red nail. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, Evalina,” she had said when I struggled. “You’re not going to throw it away by obsessing over everything that’s wrong in the world.”