All Good Women

by Valerie Miner

  Wanda searched the crowd for Betty and spotted her standing with a group of adults next to the stage — Mr Sasaki, Carolyn and a strange Caucasian man. As she turned to Mama, Wanda watched Mrs W. approach. Mrs Nakashima and Mrs Watanabe moved on.

  ‘Mrs Nakatani?’ The teacher spoke precisely since this was the first time she had ever talked directly with Mrs Nakatani.

  ‘Yes.’ Mama bowed, expressing the slimmest courtesy.

  ‘I wanted to congratulate you on your two accomplished daughters. I have had the pleasure of teaching with Wanda as you know, and find her to be a highly intelligent, talented young woman. It’s also been enjoyable to have young Betty in class. She’s a bright, lively child, who obviously has a musical gift.’

  Wanda clutched her hands behind her back, mortified for both women.

  ‘Thank you for my daughters.’ Mrs Nakatani barely spoke above a whisper.

  Wanda regarded Mrs Wright with a mixture of sympathy and revenge. Finally someone who could make her mute. Leave it to Mama. The two older women watched each other closely. Wanda felt a surprising protectiveness for them both. Betty joined them, beaming, but she soon lost her radiance.

  The Caucasian stranger joined their silent quartet. ‘Hello again, young miss,’ he nodded to Betty. ‘I did admire your performance.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Betty grinned.

  ‘And you must be the lucky mother.’ He offered his hand.

  Mrs Nakatani nodded.

  Wanda smiled courteously and then wondered why she always felt she had to smooth things over.

  Responding to the one cordial person, he said to Wanda, ‘An older sister, perhaps?’

  ‘You’re talking to one of the best teachers in the country.’ Mrs W. came to life. ‘Wanda has worked with me all year and made a great contribution. By the way, my name is Adelaide Wright, and yours is?’

  ‘Gardner, Hubert Gardner. Excuse me. I am a friend of Walter Knockman, the postmaster. Passing through on my way back from a concert in New York.’

  Betty’s face lit up.

  ‘Walter told me you had a little virtuoso here. He was right. I presumed to intrude just now because I have a music school in San Francisco and I wanted to invite you, my dear,’ he addressed Betty, ‘to come and audition for me, if you wind up returning to the Bay Area.’

  Betty beamed at Wanda.

  Mrs Nakatani spoke first, surprising everyone. ‘Thank you for our daughter. But we will not stay in San Francisco long.’

  ‘I see.’ He turned more sober.

  Betty looked at Wanda beseechingly. Wanda was dumbfounded by Mama’s outburst.

  Again Mrs W. appropriated the silence. ‘And where will you be going after San Francisco?’ She inched closer to Mrs Nakatani as if to hear better, almost shutting Mr Gardner out of the circle.

  Mrs Nakatani weighed the value of response. Finally, she looked past the teacher, across the room, and addressing the piano on the darkened stage, she said, ‘My family returns to Yokohama soon.’

  Mrs W. coughed. Mr Gardner smiled with nervous concern.

  Betty began, ‘Oh, Mother,’ then looked at Wanda’s shaking head and closed her mouth.

  Mrs Nakatani, who had been virtually cloistered for three years, seemed to be enjoying her debut. She looked around, taking in everyone’s separate response. ‘Thank you, Mr Gardner.’

  Wanda stepped back, breathless from Mama’s determination. She thought of times her parents would argue in Japanese in the kitchen. Mama might have gone through a long mourning, but she hadn’t lost her voice. It was just a pity she had to make her appearance on the same night as Betty. Perhaps Mama was warning the child not to get carried away. Wanda would have a long talk with Betty tonight. Oh, she yearned for Papa and Howard. She considered Roy and shut her eyes. If he were still alive, that meant he could still die.

  The next afternoon, Wanda found herself writing to Moira and Teddy,

  Dear Friends,

  We’re coming back to San Francisco, for a time anyway. I still haven’t been able to talk Mama out of Japan. But once she discovers the situation over there, once she realizes the hardship she’ll have to change her mind. We haven’t heard from Aunt Yuni for months. That may well turn fate. Oh, this is so hard. I feel responsible for Mama and Betty and they want/need such different things. Will Mama survive if we don’t go to Japan? Will Betty if we do? Before the war, I never appreciated how interconnected lives could be.

  How is everything with Tess? I still can’t believe you’re a mother, Moi. (Carolyn is due in two months and then I’ll be an aunt). When I think of mothers, I think of our mothers. And for my part, I don’t feel ready yet. How on earth are you managing to work at the shipyard and take care of Tess at the same time?

  And you, Teddy, as I said in the card, I was so very sorry to hear about your father’s death. I know it was a terrible blow. In some senses he was a casualty of the war. Both our fathers died because of pressures, because there seemed no point in living through this madness. Both of them killed themselves in different ways. I hope you don’t mind my going on like this, but I’ve been thinking about suicide a lot lately. It seems there are many ways of committing suicide. Fast like Papa, slow with alcohol like your Pop, and morally by giving up, by passing the days rather than living them, the way so many of us are tempted to go. Occasionally I do wish I were dead. It’s so hard holding it all together. Now, don’t get anxious that I’ll do anything rash. But I sometimes live without any hope for days at a time. There are many decisions and all of them feel equally terrible. So I just accept despair. I know this isn’t right. I look at Carolyn who keeps hoping about Howard. She’s full of good projects.

  And Ann — certainly she’s faced impossibilities in London, yet she’s plugging along. It was only three years ago that we were all dancing around the living room. And now look at us — so scattered. What will it be like when we meet again? Will we recognize each other? Teddy, I’m just kidding; don’t panic. I’m sure we’ll be friends for ever. But it will take time to see how the war has changed us.

  Wanda set down her pen. No, this wasn’t helping. It was making her more confused. She would simply have to find a peace in herself.

  She watched Mama folding linen in the big trunk they had bought from Mr Omi. Mama enjoyed this packing ritual. Even though they weren’t leaving for weeks, she sorted out some of her things each day. Betty sat in the corner reading or brooding; it was hard to tell. She had caught Mama’s silence. The two of them had hardly spoken since the concert. Wanda had tried to mediate, but for the last couple of days she filled the silence with her own thoughts. Today, she felt stifled, unable to sit any longer under the wordless pressures in these rooms.

  ‘I’m going for a walk,’ she said to both of them. ‘Anyone want to come?’ They both shook their heads and she was relieved.

  Strolling across camp, Wanda considered the changes that had occurred since the court decision. People knew they were going home — whatever that meant — and they no longer pretended about Lion’s Head. For many this had always been an imaginary land which they fantasized into home with their small gardens and community activities. But now the gardens were wilting. Repairs were ignored. Furniture was being traded and sold. Lion’s Head was assuming the air of a transient camp as the long hidden pain seeped out. Wanda found the dissolution depressing. The Hatas’ porch was piled with suitcases and boxes. Wanda could feel tears welling inside her lids. She would miss the people here. She might never see them again. Funny, while she hadn’t felt particularly Japanese before the camp, she now wondered how she would function in the white world. Well, she was dreaming if she thought she would go straight back to the middle of Hakujin territory. What with fires in the San Joaquin Valley and lynchings of those who went back to reclaim their land in Washington State, she knew she would live in a close Japanese neighborhood in San Francisco. Uncle Fumio had promis
ed to find them a place. Then, of course, there were Mama’s plans.

  ‘Wanda, Wanda.’ A voice trailed on the back of a strong wind. She turned to find Carolyn, hurrying after her with something in her hand.

  ‘Hi, Carolyn, aren’t you still at work?’

  ‘Yes, I was just picking up in the lobby when I saw you.’ She waved the envelope. ‘But no one’s been by to check your post today and I thought you’d want to know you got a letter from a certain party.’

  Wanda inspected the envelope. It had been taken back to the States by Roy’s friend Sam, if she were interpreting the return address correctly, and mailed in Arkansas.

  Wanda stared at her. It had been ages. She had relegated the job of going to the post office to Betty.

  ‘Well, girl, let’s see how he is,’ encouraged Carolyn.

  Wanda looked at Carolyn, whose persistence was quite out of character. Carolyn must have sensed something. She was like Teddy in the way she perceived things before they happened. Wanda leaned against the wall of the mess hall and opened the letter. She didn’t want to go home just now and she didn’t want to be alone, in case, she didn’t know, just in case. Her tears came with the first sentence. It was about Howard. Carolyn moved closer.

  ‘Howard’s death.’ There it was in Roy’s handwriting. Well, she had to find out sooner or later. Better this way than from the man in the Western Union truck. But why hadn’t the government informed them? She turned to Carolyn.

  ‘He’s gone, Carolyn.’

  ‘I know.’ She stared at the letter as if it would keep her breathing. ‘Does he say how?’ she asked in a monotone.

  Wanda looked up gratefully. ‘Feel like a walk? Can you leave work now?’

  ‘Yes, let me get my coat.’

  Wanda watched Carolyn walk slowly back towards her, her coat barely buttoned across her huge belly.

  They travelled to the far end of camp without talking. Since Roy and Howard left, Carolyn had often joined Wanda on the log. But she always waited to be invited.

  ‘You want to read it?’ Wanda offered.

  ‘No, it’s your letter.’

  Wanda nodded, considering once again who was hurt more by Howard’s death. You simply couldn’t compare her history of growing up with Howard to Carolyn’s future with him. Wanda wept and began.

  Dear Wanda,

  You will have heard about Howard’s death by now. I wish I could be there to hold you and to comfort you and Carolyn and Betty and your mother. The next best thing, perhaps, is for me to tell you what I know and to promise that I’ll be there soon to console you.

  Howard was with a small platoon scouting the town before the rest of us moved in. We were told that the Jerries had left three days before by good local sources, who were grateful to have the Americans. Howard volunteered for duty because he had been down with fever several weeks before and felt he hadn’t seen his share of action. Actually, during this period, part of the unit was lost for a while. And we heard some MIA telegrams were sent home. Typical army foul-up. Anyway, Howard went to town with several others. The story I got back was that he saw a Jerry pulling a gun from a window on one of our men and walked out from the wall to shoot. Then Howard was hit in the back from the west end of town. No one knows how the Germans still had men in the west end. As I said, they were supposed to be gone altogether days before. Well, our men got the German Howard was firing at and several others in the building. When they scoured the west end, they couldn’t find anyone.

  At first it looked like Howard might survive. He’s a tough one. I still have a hard time using the past tense. Anyway, they brought him back to headquarters and operated. They got out one bullet and he was conscious for several hours. He talked about you a lot. ‘Take care of Wanda,’ he said. I told him I’d do that and he persisted. ‘She needs you.’ I kept telling him that he was going to be OK, but he knew he wasn’t. He lost a lot of blood while they were bringing him back and then he lost more on the operating table. At one point he turned to me and said I should make sure you got to college. ‘I’m sorry I took that away from her.’ He was always talking about that part, Wan, about how you should have gone to college like Mrs Nakashima wanted.

  Tell your mother and Betty he kept asking for them. I’ll write to your Mama. He said he would think about all of you living back in San Francisco. He said to write to Carolyn, so I plan to send her a letter too. He loved her a lot as I’m sure you know.

  Wanda put down the letter and wrapped her arms around Carolyn. The two women held on to each other, facing the cold mountains. Frozen earth stretched bare and grey to the base of the brutal peaks. Carolyn sniffed back her tears. Wanda stared, too tired and too empty to cry. She picked up the letter and continued reading aloud.

  We had a ceremony on the hillside of this pretty town and sang some songs he liked. I guess they’ve notified you about all the official details. It was so terribly sad, Wan.

  After that, we made our way up through Italy. I think this war will be over in the spring; the Nazis are falling apart. And believe me, I’m catching the first ship home. Well, there’s a lot more I could say, but I think this is enough for one letter. We’ll let this be Howard’s good-bye. Remember I love you, Roy.

  Carolyn took Wanda’s hand. Their faces on the mountain, each woman wept.

  ‘It’s a good letter,’ Carolyn said finally. ‘So like Howard, right to the end.’

  Wanda nodded, then buried her head in her friend’s shoulder and sobbed.

  The last morning was unbearably long. Mama had finished packing days before. Wanda had said good-bye to all the neighbors. But they had to wait for the Watanabes to return from town with some rope and one extra suitcase. It had taken some convincing to get Mama to drive with the Watanabes rather than to take the train. But it made more sense, since they had a station wagon and trailer and since the train was so expensive. At the back of Wanda’s mind was that the Watanabes might talk Mama out of Japan. Maybe when she heard about their plans for settling in Napa, Mama would think about other possibilities. No one had been able to get through to her in camp because she walked away from conversations, but she would be stuck in the station wagon for four days.

  Wanda couldn’t stand their empty room, so she went for a walk to say farewell to the mountains. A surprise snow storm the previous week had left the peaks glazed in white. It was too cold to sit on the bench; she must be losing the numbness. She paced back and forth, in front of the fence, thinking about her visits here with Roy; the time Howard told her he was going to enlist; the visit from Ann; the talks with Carolyn. She knew she would remember this place more than anywhere in camp. She wished she had a photograph of herself here, but she would have had to have someone else take the picture and she wasn’t willing to relinquish this solitude today even for that. So she took one last look and said aloud, ‘Farewell mountains’.

  When she returned to the barracks, Betty told her that the Watanabes would arrive in ten minutes and they should be set to go. Mama was counting the packages. Betty lugged them outside. Suddenly Wanda thought she might not be able to leave. She needed a cup of tea. Just one cup of tea. She needed to sit down and inhale the steam and ruminate for just 5 minutes. For the first time in weeks, she thought of her diary.

  The horn was honking. Mr Watanabe was admonishing her to be happy. She kept thinking about how paralyzed she had felt the day they had moved in, just the four of them, carrying duffel bags, Papa dead in San Francisco. Who would have guessed that on leaving there would be only three remaining in the family? She reviewed the changes of the last three years — Howard’s death, Roy’s absence, Betty’s blossoming, Mama’s rage, her own callousness. How had she survived the loneliness, the responsibilities and the rattlesnakes? How much of her was left? Well, this was not the moment for personal reckoning. Betty called her. She carried a suitcase to the relay line — passing it to Betty, who passed it to Stanley, who
passed it to Mr Watanabe, who placed it in the trailer behind the station wagon.

  Once they were settled in the car, Mr and Mrs Watanabe and Mama in the front, herself and Betty and Stanley in the seat behind, Wanda peered out for her last glimpse of Lion’s Head. Carolyn stood in front of the post office, waving. Then, as they headed down toward the gate, there was a line of people: Mrs Nakashima, Mr Hata, Mr Sasaki, Mr Omi and Mrs Wright — all waving.

  Wanda recalled that damp spring morning in 1942 when Moira, Ann and Teddy came to the bus. She smiled at the image of Teddy lumbering down the aisle with gardenias. Dear Teddy. Teddy had travelled across the Southwest like this; she had gone much further in that truck packed with twelve people. Teddy. She would be seeing Teddy and Moira in less than a week. She was leaving Lion’s Head and going home. Wanda reached for Betty’s hand and kept her eyes wide as they passed out the gate.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Winter 1945, London

  JAPANESE SURRENDER ON CORREGIDOR

  FINLAND DECLARES WAR ON GERMANY

  TITO BECOMES PRESIDENT OF YUGOSLAVIA

  ANN WALKED MEDITATIVELY through the park on her way to the tube. Most people stayed away from the park until the morning grey lifted, thus she could pretend this was her own estate. Of course, there were two men sitting on the far bench who still thought it was public territory. And there was that sad fellow lying near the entrance, bundled in his coat and hugging an empty green bottle. She was surprised when she saw people who looked more down and out than everyone else. This was one response to the turmoil, to let it pass you by.

  Mrs Goldman said Leah had stayed in bed all week. There was no fever or vomiting. Nothing but a general listlessness. Ann wished now she hadn’t promised to visit. Probably it would just make Leah worse. Why couldn’t the child see that she was in the best place. Why did Leah keep insisting on being with her? Well, Ann had promised herself not to think about it until this evening.