“Mama says we should walk to the drugstore.”
“You do not have to,” Miyoko said.
“Yes, I do. Mama said to.”
“Of course, you must honor your mother’s wishes.” Miyoko nudged the cat off her lap and then slipped on her shoes. Laura led the way out of the hotel.
“You have to stay away from the burlesque house. It’s not a nice place.” Laura pointed out the obvious sites as they walked down the street: the café, the barbershop. Two blocks farther down the street was the drugstore. Laura held the door for Miyoko.
“After you,” Miyoko said in that cultured tone of hers.
“Go on. I’ve got the door,” Laura said.
“Thank you,” Miyoko said with a nod of her head.
They sat at a small table next to the window and each ordered a Coca-Cola. It was a treat for Laura to be there, but the odd looks she was getting from other customers because of Miyoko took the shine off the special feeling of being independent.
“I’m sorry I said you were blind,” Miyoko said.
“That’s okay,” Laura said. “I’m not blind. I’m not a traitor, either.”
“I did not say you were.”
“No, but Yvonne did.”
They drank their Cokes without talking until Laura couldn’t stand the silence. “So what was it like in the relocation center?”
“It was like a town, except we lived in large barracks. My family had one small room next to the Wakamutsus’ room. Outside was dusty and so cold in the winter. We had to walk to a big hall to eat bad-tasting food.”
“What did you do all day?”
“I went to school. Like here, except we were all yellow-skinned, not white. No one pointed at me and called me a Jap.”
“When did your mother die?” It came out more abruptly than Laura intended, but she wanted to get Miyoko off the subject of how she’d been treated at her first day of school in Seattle.
“Over two years ago. November 30, 1942.”
“She died in the camp?”
“Yes. She had pneumonia. She was very pretty, even at the end.”
“Where is she buried?”
“In Wyoming. We had to leave her there.” Tears glistened in Miyoko’s eyes. Laura searched for another subject.
“What about your father?”
Miyoko sniffed. “He’s in the 442nd. Have you read about them in the paper?”
“No.”
“There are many clippings about the bravery of the Nisei Combat Team. I will show them to you. My father is a brave soldier.”
If Miyoko’s father was a soldier, didn’t that prove that he was a loyal American? Laura would get those clippings and show them to Yvonne. Miyoko’s family wasn’t her brother’s enemy. Miyoko’s family was fighting to avenge Yvonne’s brother’s death. Once Yvonne understood that, surely they would be friends again.
“Do you like Frank Sinatra?” Laura asked, changing the subject once again, this time to a neutral topic. “My sister is crazy about his music.”
“I have heard him on the radio,” Miyoko said. “He sounds nice, but I am not crazy for him.”
“Me, either,” Laura said. “Hey, did you see the movie Bataan? My sister’s boyfriend was on the Philippines when it was taken by the …” She’d started to say Japs but corrected herself. Even though Miyoko wasn’t one of them, she was still of Japanese descent. “Anyway, Corrine has seen that movie five times and cried through it every time.”
“I would like to go to the movies,” Miyoko said.
“Sometimes Eddie and Kenny and Yvonne and I go on Saturday afternoons. Meet Me in St. Louis is playing now. I’ll ask Mama if we can go this Saturday.” And before then, Laura determined that she’d explain everything to Yvonne.
The girls left the drugstore and walked back by a different route so Miyoko could learn more of the neighborhood.
The next day during school, Yvonne again ignored Laura. It rained during recess, so everyone stayed in classrooms for games instead of going outside. Laura saw Yvonne only once, and that was when Laura and Eddie went from room to room to tell about the March of Dimes drive. The principal had selected them to announce the campaign against polio because of Eddie’s brush with the disease. Yvonne didn’t even look at Laura when Laura read to the class the information about mothers collecting dimes for polio research.
Eddie talked briefly about having polio and said that he was one of the lucky ones. Many others in the hospitals were in wheelchairs or would always walk with crutches or had died. Laura was surprised when Eddie lifted his pant leg to show his brace. Some of the boys had ridiculed him about it when school had first started, but now it was like a battle wound. He had survived polio. He was a hero.
In her short speech, Laura said that polio research needed to be done right away so that someone else in school didn’t get the disease next summer. She saw fear in the eyes of some students and thought that Maude would approve of that fear if it got more dimes in the bucket for research.
After school, Yvonne had left the building before Laura made it to Eddie’s room.
Laura and Eddie put the mail up after school, but Mama needed the office phone for last-minute calls about the March of Dimes, so she took over. The whole month of January was March of Dimes month, but the next day Mama would collect dimes in the neighborhood, and other mothers on her list would walk their areas, too.
“I will also collect dimes,” Mrs. Wakamutsu said. “This is a cause for all of us. Next summer could be a worse year for polio. We do not want Miyoko or Laura to get the disease.”
Laura had thought the fear of the disease was good for the kids at school, but she didn’t like it linked to herself. She remembered those horrible days last summer when first thing every morning she had checked her fingers and toes to make sure they still worked.
“We should make a lot of money for the March of Dimes,” Mama explained to Mrs. Wakamutsu. “The whole country is behind the effort. When a movie star like Mary Pickford can take time to be the honorary head of the women’s drive, then you know we’ll have a successful collection. Last week Jack Benny mentioned the drive on his radio show.” She laughed. “If a skinflint like him is going to donate a dime, then everyone should.”
“We listened to his funny show in Wyoming,” Mrs. Wakamutsu said. “Sachiko sent us a radio after she got her job.”
Since Mama didn’t need her at the office, and she didn’t have homework, Laura asked if she could walk over to Yvonne’s.
“Be home before five. Would you like Miyoko to go with you?”
“No,” Laura said. “I need to talk to Yvonne alone.”
Laura didn’t call Yvonne before she walked over. If Yvonne knew she was coming, she might go somewhere. Laura dreaded the confrontation, but she wanted things worked out between them. It was time for Laura to face her fear, as Maude would say. Yvonne had been too good a friend to desert her just because she didn’t understand that Miyoko wasn’t a real Jap. She just looked like one.
Yvonne’s mother opened the door and invited Laura inside. “Yvonne’s in her room doing homework,” she said. “I’ll get her.”
Laura walked over to the piano and looked at the display of photographs in various-sized frames. There were Yvonne’s parents in their wedding portrait and another photo taken in their wedding attire with their parents on each side, a family portrait of Yvonne with her parents and her brother, Yvonne’s grandparents beside a sign that Laura couldn’t read since it was in a foreign language, one of Charlie in his navy uniform before that awful day at Pearl Harbor, and several old school pictures of Yvonne and Charlie.
“What are you doing here?” Yvonne asked the moment she came in the room. Her voice was low, probably so her mother wouldn’t hear her being rude.
“Just looking at pictures,” Laura said. “Aren’t these your grandparents?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Where was this picture taken?” Laura had a good idea of the location, but she had to
get Yvonne to say for sure.
“When they went to Europe.”
“What country were they in? I can’t make out the writing on this sign.” Laura picked up the photograph. “It looks like German.”
Yvonne’s glance at Laura was lightning fast, but Laura saw the suspicion in her eyes. “So?”
“Why did they go to Germany?”
“That’s where my grandfather was born,” Yvonne said, “but he came to this country when he was only three years old. He went back to see what it was like.”
“Then you’re a Nazi,” Laura said.
“I am not! That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, Laura Edwards.”
“Is your father in the army?”
“No, but neither is yours.”
“Miyoko’s father is. Her grandfather was born in Japan but came here when he was a young man. Her father was born in California, and so was she. She’s not a Jap. She’s as American as you are.”
Yvonne was silent for a moment.
“But she looks like a Jap.”
“And you look like a German.” Laura touched Yvonne’s blond hair.
“Why was she sent to the camp if she’s not a Jap?”
“I don’t know. Maude thinks it was fear because she looked like the enemy, but sending Miyoko’s family to the relocation center wasn’t called for. It was a mistake,” Laura said. “Her mother died there,” she added to make Yvonne view Miyoko with more sympathy. “They buried her in Wyoming. Miyoko can’t even go put flowers on her grave.”
Yvonne frowned and looked thoughtful. “We can’t go to Charlie’s grave, either, since he’s buried on that ship in Pearl Harbor. I need to think about this.”
“Me, too,” Laura admitted. She wouldn’t push Yvonne, because she knew her friend would come to the right conclusion. “You want to ask your mom if you can go with us to the movies on Saturday?”
CHAPTER 9
The Plan Backfires
That evening Laura was quite pleased with herself for convincing Yvonne that Miyoko was an American instead of the enemy. Laura felt sure that Yvonne believed that now, even though she hadn’t actually said it. But when Laura went to school the next day, there were two Japanese boys in her own classroom, and most of the class snubbed them. Only Laura and one other boy, Tony Ricci, went out of their way to talk to the boys.
Mrs. Jamison had the Japanese boys draw something for the class banner. Before going outside with the rest of the class for recess, Laura climbed on a chair and pinned on the two new drawings. The only spaces left were right next to the one with the big X over the bucktoothed Jap.
On the playground, Laura saw Eddie playing kickball. He’d set his mind on playing that game, and he’d made it happen. He’d taken the other kids’ attitudes and turned them around. Instead of ridiculing his impairment, now they admired him for overcoming it.
The two Japanese boys from her classroom stood off to themselves instead of joining in a game with the others. A lone Japanese girl stood by the fence. Thankfully it wasn’t Miyoko. Yvonne was actually talking to her over by the swings.
Something had to be done to make others accept the Japanese, but what? The country was at war with the Japs. Laura’s classmates had worked hard to raise money to fight the Japs, and now she expected them to welcome yellow-skinned, slant-eyed classmates? She couldn’t erase their hatred for Japs as easily as she had convinced Yvonne to talk to Miyoko. Or could she?
Laura walked with purpose back into the school and found Mrs. Jamison at her desk grading arithmetic tests. She explained her idea to her teacher, who looked thoughtful and then said it was worth a try.
As soon as the kids were called in from recess, Mrs. Jamison began the social studies lesson.
“Yesterday we talked about the potato famine forcing a great many Irish to immigrate to the United States. Does anyone have an ancestor who was Irish?” Three or four students held up their hands. “Did any of your grandparents or great-grandparents come to this country in the late 1840s?”
This time there were no hands raised. Finally Eileen O’Brien spoke up. “I don’t know when my father’s parents came here, but we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day every year.”
“That’s a fun celebration,” Mrs. Jamison said. “We all like wearing something green on March 17, even if we don’t have a drop of Irish blood.”
“My mom has a shamrock plant,” Casey Doyle said.
“Good,” Mrs. Jamison said. “That’s another thing we associate with the Irish. Are any of your families from England?”
Laura and a smattering of other children held up their hands.
“My ancestors came over on the Mayflower,” Laura said with pride. “They were Pilgrims.”
“Can others of you trace your family back to the first colonies?” Mrs. Jamison asked.
No one held up a hand.
“Jeff, do you know when your family came here from England?” Mrs. Jamison asked.
“No, but maybe I could find out.”
“That’s a great idea. Would each one of you find out who your ancestors were and where they came from and when they came to this country? If your parents don’t know, perhaps you can ask your grandparents. We’ll each share our stories in social studies tomorrow.”
Laura told her idea to Eddie, Miyoko, and Yvonne as they walked home from school. “Tomorrow everyone will tell how many generations they have been in this country. Then they will see that we’re all Americans.”
“Good. Maybe then Kenny will walk home with us,” Eddie said.
“Have you talked to him?” Laura asked.
“No. He won’t talk. He just plays with the other boys at recess. Where did he go after school?”
“Sorry, I didn’t notice, but I will tomorrow. I’ll ask him if he wants to go to the movie with us on Saturday. How’s that?”
“Okay,” Eddie said and scurried on ahead of the girls.
He was already alone in the office when Laura and Miyoko climbed the stairs to the lobby.
“Mama and Mrs. Wakamutsu are doing the March of Dimes,” he said. “Corrine was working here when I came in.”
The mailman clomped up the stairs early and handed a bundle of letters to Eddie.
Laura wanted to follow Miyoko to the apartment for a drink, but she went inside the office instead. Sorting the mail kept her in the know about what was going on in the hotel.
“Oh, no,” Eddie said. He handed Laura a letter for Mr. Arnold.
Laura read the return address and gasped. “A letter from a dead soldier. Oh, I wonder when Dale wrote this.”
She figured that Mama would send it on to Mr. Arnold, whose things had been shipped to Albuquerque the day before. Today his room was to be cleaned, top to bottom, and Corrine and Margie were moving in there that night.
There was no letter from Bruce and, of course, no letter from Neil for Corrine, but Maude had two letters from Jerry.
Once they had put up the other mail, Laura took the letters and dashed down the hall to Maude’s apartment. She wanted to tell her how she had convinced Yvonne that Miyoko was a loyal American and all about the social studies project.
Once again Laura waited while Maude read her son’s letters.
“Well, he was still on Guam when he wrote these letters. They were written a week apart but were delivered the same day. Hard to figure how the mail system works in a war zone,” Maude said and refolded the second letter, just as she had the first. Laura knew she would read them again and again, then put them with the others.
“Yvonne and Miyoko are friends,” Laura announced. “Well, maybe not friends like Yvonne and I are, but they’re not enemies anymore.” She explained how she had managed to get Yvonne to accept Miyoko and also shared her plan for the social studies class. “I told them my ancestors came over on the Mayflower,” Laura said proudly. “No one else could trace their families that far back.”
“Did you also mention your mother’s father?”
“I never knew my grand
father. He died before I was born.”
“Your mom’s told me a bit about him. You must ask her about him before you go to school tomorrow.”
“I will. I’ll ask Dad about his parents, too.”
“Oh, and Laura, don’t get too uppity about your family coming over on the Mayflower. My family met them on the shore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“As Will Rogers said … Oh, you wouldn’t know him, but he was a famous man from Oklahoma. Anyway, he said that his people met the boat.” Maude laughed. “I’m part Indian. My great-grandmother was Cherokee. I’m not sure what tribe lived around Plymouth Rock, but I suspect I’m related somewhere back there. I can trace my ancestors back to the first Americans. So to my family, your old, old family members were recent immigrants.”
Laura nodded, and Maude was still chuckling when Laura left her apartment. Odd—Maude didn’t look like an Indian. Oh, her hair was dark all right, but she wasn’t real tall, and she didn’t have red skin.
Laura stayed at the office where Eddie was giving out mail and talked to him about the ancestor assignment, urging him to do the same thing in his room. There were no Japanese in his class right now, but there were bound to be some soon. All the relocation centers were being closed down, little by little.
After supper that night, Laura cornered her dad and asked about his family. With her pencil in hand, she made notes in her social studies notebook.
“Slow down,” she said. “Your mother was from New York and your father from Minneapolis. But where did they come from originally, like Mama’s family from England?”
“South Africa.”
“South Africa!”
“It’s part of the British Commonwealth. I’m sure my ancestors at one time came from England, but I don’t know when they immigrated to South Africa and then to America. That’s on my father’s side. On my mother’s side, I think there’s some Dutch heritage, but that’s way back there.”
“Thanks. Where’s Mama?”
“She just got back from the big march and is in Mr. Arnold’s room helping sort out the girls’ things. This move will give you girls some much-needed room. I was sent to get a hammer so I can hang a few pictures.”
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