Within These Lines

by Stephanie Morrill

  I could argue that the laws against me marrying Evalina are morally wrong. Or that if we lived in another state, our marriage would not be against the law. Just against societal expectations.

  “What about the Yoneda family?” I say to my hands.

  “You are just a boy,” Father says. “You do not understand what that choice involves.”

  That’s unfair. Boys my age are fighting in battles all over the world.

  Mother bends to catch my eye. “Mr. and Mrs. Yoneda were already married before the evacuation. Surely, my son, after what has happened to our people, you would not want this for Miss Cassano.”

  Shame burns bitter in my throat. This is true, I don’t want this for her. And we have no idea how long we’ll be held here, or if we’ll ever be released. Even when we are, am I really so selfish that I would saddle her with a life of scraping by and making do? She’s so smart, she’s the first in her family to go to college. With an academic scholarship, no less. The fellows she’ll meet there could offer her so much more, and I’ll just be some “Jap” nobody without a cent to my name.

  “You’re right,” I say thickly to my dust-covered shoes. “I’ll end it.”

  Aiko rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t be an idiot, Taichi. You don’t have to listen to Mother and Father. You should make your own decisions.”

  I should have predicted this response. “But what if I think they’re right?”

  “But you don’t think they’re right.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  “No, you don’t.” She jams her nurse’s cap onto her head with more force than necessary. “Not really.”

  “Would you keep your voice down?”

  We’re in the barrack getting ready for our shifts, me for dinner, and her for an overnight at the hospital. Unlike when I had my conversation with Mother and Father this afternoon, we can hear the other families moving around on their sides of the blankets.

  Aiko purses her lips as she fusses with her hatpins. “Protest if you wish, but I know you never thought you and Evalina were headed ‘nowhere.’”

  That’s true. I had been intrigued by her since that first conversation—you should charge more for your blackberries, you know—and had spent several months pushing away my attraction to her. There were many reasons to not pursue Evalina, including that neither of our families would approve, and the reality that she was dating the son of her father’s business partner.

  I did my best to ignore that Evalina started coming alone on Saturday mornings to the market. That while she had sometimes been present during Monday and Thursday deliveries at Alessandro’s, soon she was always there. And how sometimes I would glance at her, and find she was already looking at me.

  One Saturday morning, a few months after we met, Evalina was already at the market when I arrived. For the first time, it was just me and Diego who had come, not my mother. And, of course, Diego put on his most charming smile and flirted fruitlessly.

  Evalina left her purchases with us to pick up later—was I imagining that this was yet another way she’d found to steal more time together?—and went to take care of the rest of her shopping.

  Diego’s eyes followed her as she walked away. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met a girl who’s less interested in me.”

  The look he gave me was pointed, and I felt heat crawling up the back of my neck. “I guess it was bound to happen one of these days.”

  Diego smirked. “I think it was less about my charm and more about her being preoccupied with someone else.”

  “I think she has a boyfriend,” was all I had time to say before we both had to help approaching customers.

  Customers came so steadily Diego and I didn’t get another chance to talk. Half an hour later, I spotted Evalina approaching the stand again. I smiled at her, but the woman I was helping was very indecisive about her spinach purchase.

  My hopeful heart deflated when Diego finished with his customer first, and he began chatting with Evalina. I would probably still be assisting this woman by the time they wrapped up their polite conversation. Maybe I wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to her.

  “Is there any more spinach that I can look through?” the woman asked, peering behind the table, as though we hid the best of our crops back there.

  I hoped my smile would mask my impatience. Just as I was about to respond, Diego stepped between us. “Ma’am, spinach happens to be my expertise. Let me see if I can help you.” He glanced at me and gave a sharp nod toward Evalina.

  Her smile made me feel like fireworks were going off inside my chest.

  “How was the rest of your shopping, Miss Cassano?” I asked.

  “Fine.” From within her shopping bag, she pulled a blackberry she had purchased from us earlier and popped it into her mouth. “The Johnson family has strawberries that aren’t nearly as pretty as yours, and they’re selling them for a dime more a basket. It’s outrageous.”

  I wanted to say something witty or at least mildly interesting. All I could think of was, “That’s a lot.”

  Evalina swallowed. “You know, you could call me Evalina.” She dropped her gaze to her saddle shoes. “If you’d like.”

  I had thought her name hundreds of times in my head, but I had not yet spoken it. “Evalina. You may call me Taichi.”

  She pulled at one of her windblown curls. “Taichi.” Then she glanced at Diego. “Your friend said that you were wanting to take a walk down by the bay.”

  My throat went dry. I felt both deeply grateful for and deeply embarrassed by Diego.

  I couldn’t bring myself to say it was true, to lie to Evalina, even about something so small. “I would enjoy a walk if . . .” The words almost stayed in, almost remained suffocated by my fear. “If you would go with me.”

  When Evalina beamed at me, I knew I hadn’t been imagining the clues these last weeks. That what I had been feeling for her was not one-sided. Only . . .

  “Though, if your boyfriend wouldn’t like that, I understand.”

  I could hardly stand to look her in the eyes as I said it, but her smile dimmed only slightly. “Tony and I have been broken up for over a month. So, a walk would be fine.”

  I tried to not smile too broadly as we strolled away, and I ignored Diego’s cheerful, “See you later, Tai!”

  From that first walk, I had known two things with absolute certainty:

  This was a hard road we were starting down.

  And Evalina Cassano was worth every bump and twist.

  But we could never have imagined Pearl Harbor. Or the executive order that had me living inside barbed wire. How could I keep her chained to me through something like this?

  To Aiko, I gesture to our sparse corner of the barrack. “What if we’re still here in five years? In ten? It’s just not fair for me to ask Evalina to wait for me, especially when she could marry someone else.”

  Aiko’s scowl deepens. “Evalina doesn’t want to marry someone else.”

  “Oh, really?” I pull my shoelaces with such force, I’m surprised they don’t break. “She told you that during one of your many conversations?”

  Aiko sighs. “She doesn’t have to tell me. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. And the way you look at her. That’s enough for me to know.”

  Aiko rummages for her shoes under her bed. While our heads are bent together, she says quietly, “I think you’re so tired of having everything taken away from you, that you’re just trying to beat her to the punch. But I don’t think that punch is going to come, Taichi. She loves you.”

  Was it really just hours ago that Evalina was brave enough to hug me in front of the guard? To tell me she loved me? And I had just stood there like an idiot, feeling ashamed of how my clothes were coated in dust, of how I must smell, of how we had an armed guard in the room with us because I’m Japanese.

  “I’m not asking for your opinion, Aiko.” The words come out cold. “You asked what happened with Mother and Father, and I’m telling you.”

  Aiko’s face
turns stony. “Excuse me for caring about you. I think you’re really good for each other, and I hate to see you throw it away because you’re trying to make this”—she gestures to our surroundings—“easier. Because this is temporary.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  Aiko gives a huffy sigh. “Fine. Throw away everything you’ve worked for. Break Evalina’s heart. I don’t care.”

  She slams the door behind her when she leaves. Several minutes later, I do too.

  Dear Evalina,

  There’s no easy way to write this, but after your visit, it was clear to me that it’s not fair to continue this relationship. We don’t know how long this war will last, or who we will be when it’s over. I just wish I had realized this before you took the trouble to visit.

  I’m sorry to have to do this through a letter. I know you’ll be very upset, but I hope that once you’ve given it some thought you’ll realize that this is the best thing for both of us.

  Sincerely,

  Taichi Hamasaki

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Evalina

  We’ve been on the road for at least thirty minutes, my mind numb from the noise of the tires against the blacktop, before Mama speaks.

  “I think that’s the saddest place I’ve ever been.”

  I turn away from the repetitive landscape—dust and sagebrush and tumbleweeds—and look at her. Her cheeks are wet.

  “I guess I knew they probably hadn’t been sent anywhere real nice. But I didn’t think . . .” Mama trails off. “I couldn’t see much from where I was, but there were so many guards. And I could hear these young Japanese girls playing hopscotch and singing one of those songs that you and Gia used to sing when you were little.”

  “Thank you for coming.” Even though right now I’m wishing we hadn’t. There’s a part of me—a part of me that I’m ashamed of—that wishes I still believed the glossy stories Taichi had told in his letters.

  “It was a worthwhile journey,” Mama says. “Just a very hard one.”

  We drive past the café where we’d stopped for lunch several hours ago, even though I had been too nervous to eat much. What kind of food is Taichi served? He had been noticeably thinner when I hugged him.

  “Evalina.” Mama’s voice has turned firm. “Will you please trust me enough to tell me the truth about you and Taichi? I know you’re . . . interested in him.”

  I take a bracing breath. “I am.”

  What will she say? Will she lecture? Will she cry?

  “Thank you,” Mama says. “And is he interested in you?”

  I should tell her we’ve been together for a year now. After what she did today, making it possible for me to see Taichi, she deserves the truth.

  But I’m too chicken to give it to her.

  I swallow. “I think so.”

  Seconds tick by without any more words. Then minutes. Does she know I’m lying?

  “We’ve always hoped that you and Tony might find your way back to each other,” Mama says. “I suppose now that he is seeing someone else, we really should give up on that.”

  That’s really not the direction I expected the conversation to go. “Tony and I are good friends, but that’s all.”

  She has nothing to say about my admission? No admonishment?

  “I understand. Tony is good for you, but if you don’t feel that way about him, you can’t help it.”

  I bite my lip. Why are we talking about Tony? I should be grateful, though. It’s not like I want her grilling me about Taichi. I’ll just let the subject drop . . .

  “So, you’re not going to lecture me about having feelings for Taichi?”

  “Would you like me to?”

  “Well, no . . .”

  “Would it change how you feel?”

  “Probably not.”

  Mama shrugs. “Okay, then.”

  She must feel my gaze on her, because she looks at me after a bit and smiles. “I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young, Evalina. We don’t always want what’s best for us, and being told we can’t have it—or shouldn’t want it—never makes it better. You’ll find your way. I’m sure of it.”

  The implication is clear. She’s decided my interest in Taichi is a passing fancy, and she’s not going to expend the energy to fight with me about a boy whom she believes I’ll be over before too long.

  My nails bite crescents into my palms. “What if that doesn’t happen?”

  “We will cross that bridge if we get there, Evalina.” Mama’s sentence is a clear punctuation mark on the conversation.

  Less than two hours later, we pull up to our rented cabin. My head is still a mess of fiery arguments about why Taichi is good for me, guilt over not being more truthful with Mama, and anger from what I saw at Manzanar.

  When we let ourselves in, it’s clear Daddy had been asleep. He cracks open his eyes and smiles at us. “There’s my two favorite girls.”

  Mama drops her handbag onto a chair and sits on the bed beside Daddy. “How are you, dear?” Without waiting for an answer, she presses her wrist to his forehead. “You’re much cooler.”

  “I told you I thought my fever broke overnight.”

  Mama smiles. “I shouldn’t have doubted.”

  Daddy pushes himself to sit up, disturbing the book that had been fanned across his chest. “How was the visit?”

  He looks from Mama to me, but I feel as though my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. How do I answer that? I don’t know how the visit was, really.

  “It was good that we went,” Mama says when I don’t speak. “But it was hard to see.”

  Yes, that’s a good way to put it. And it was especially hard to see how much Taichi didn’t want me there.

  Friday, June 26, 1942

  Mama has just turned on the stove to make coffee when there’s a characteristic rapid-fire knock on the door.

  Mama arches her eyebrows at me. “Gia must’ve missed you. Don’t go outside in those pajamas.”

  I pat my hair, which doesn’t know what to do with itself now that we’re back in the humid San Francisco air, and open the door wider than Mama would like.

  Gia beams at me from the doorstep. “Here’s-your-mail-and-I’m-engaged!”

  Before I’ve even processed what she’s said, she’s pushed the stack of mail into my arms and raised her hand so I can see the diamond chip gleaming on her finger.

  I grab her hand. “No . . .”

  “Yes! We’re getting married in two weeks before he’s deployed, and I’ve been dying to tell you!” She throws her arms around my neck, and the mail crumples between us. “I’m engaged!”

  Mama must have heard the commotion, because she has materialized in the entryway, asking to see the ring and offering her congratulations. I force myself to smile, to echo her words. Nothing good could come from any other kind of response. Not at this point.

  Mama hurries back to the kitchen to take the coffee off the burner.

  “You will be my maid of honor, obviously,” Gia says as we move into the living room. “My mother is still a wreck over not having time for our family from New York to come, but the Navy isn’t very flexible . . .”

  I flip through the mail quickly, finding only one letter from Taichi. Postmarked the Monday after my visit so that I would have something waiting for me when I got home. How sweet.

  I tuck it into the pocket of my pajamas and return my attention to Gia, who hasn’t let up the conversation.

  “. . . just as legal in a courthouse, you know? But of course our families would never go for that. Oh!” Gia flutters her hands. “I have to tell you how he proposed! We were going to one of the Navy dances, and he says to me, ‘Lots of people here tonight think we’re getting married.’ And I said to him, ‘Why is that?’ And he said—this is so romantic, Evalina, you’re just going to die—’Because I told them we are,’ and then he pulled out the ring and put it on my finger! Can you believe it?”

  That Lorenzo didn’t even wait for he
r to say yes? Why, yes, I can. But, again, I’ve already expressed every concern about Lorenzo. Not celebrating with Gia is only going to wedge us even further apart.

  “Two weeks, huh?” I say with the brightest smile I can muster. “We’ll have a lot to do.”

  “Yes, we will! What are you doing today? Do you want to come dress shopping with me? I’ll have to buy off-the-rack, but I know with your help, we can find something great.”

  Barely two months ago, we went shopping for Gia’s prom dress. How is it time to shop for a wedding dress now?

  “Of course. I’ll just need to get dressed.”

  “Great!” Gia springs up from the couch. “I promised Mother that I would help with cleaning this morning, so I’ll run home and do that, and then we can go! I’ll ring you when I’m done!”

  Her exuberance seems to prevent her from realizing my lack thereof, and I’m grateful. In a few hours, the shock will have worn off, and I’ll be able to fake enthusiasm with much more ease.

  Back in the kitchen, Mama raises her eyebrows at me.

  I shrug. “It’s not like it’s a total surprise.”

  “Isabella will no doubt be delighted as well.” Mama’s heavy sigh reveals that her feelings are not so different from my own. “I need to wash up so I can get to the market. There’s no food in this house.”

  She drops a kiss on my head as she walks by. “Take my advice, Evalina. Do not make strife with your friend over this. I think she’s going to need you in the years to come.”

  I unfortunately agree. I sit at the table with my cup of coffee, ruminating on what life will look like in two weeks when Gia is a married woman, and I’m still just me. Though if Lorenzo is shipping out soon, I guess it may not look very different at all. She would still be at home, living up in her room. How strange.

  My pocket crinkles as I take a sip of coffee, and I remember Taichi’s letter. I can hear the creaking of Mama moving about in her room upstairs, so I pull it from my pocket and tear into the envelope.

  As soon as I see the letter only takes up half a page, I know my day is going to get worse.

  Dear Taichi,