Full Wolf Moon

by K. L. Nappier

  The captain shrugged and Doris cursed herself. Why hadn't she just said that she appreciated his suggestion and left it at that? She was already forgetting the commitment she had made to herself to get on well with Captain Pierce. Now here she was shooting down a simple suggestion when a plain sure, thanks would do.

  "Let's head back," she said. "I've got a file load to clear before the new evacuees come in. I'm sure you do, too."

  They began walking back toward the hill and the captain asked pleasantly enough, "So give me an example of a typical day for the C.A., Mrs. Tebbe."

  Thank God, yes, let's move on to a little trivia. "Well, the relocation is too new for there to be any typical days, just yet. But, administrative tedium's already arrived. This morning, I'll be issuing permission to Block Three to create a small ornamental pond. Decision like that mean the world to them in a wasteland like this. And several blocks want to begin vegetable gardens. You know what some of the evacuees are saying, don't you? Especially the Issei population. They're saying the government is planning to manipulate the food supply of the camps."

  "They've said that to you?"

  "To me? Don't be silly."

  "Good Lord. Where did they get that idea? Wild rumors don't make things easier ..."

  "They know what's going on outside these confines, Captain. The Center canteens sell plenty of newspapers. And it's not as if one 'rumor' hasn't already proven true, is it? Remember that plan to allow resettlement inland, away from the coast? Instead here they are, American citizen and foreign national alike."

  At the door, Doris offered her hand. "Thank you for coming, Captain." She wanted him out of there. Too much work to do, too much wasted time touring him around.

  Captain Pierce took her hand in a firm shake. "Mrs. Tebbe, I'd like to be frank about something, if I may."

  Now what? "Always. Please."

  "I know this is a difficult responsibility. I admire you for requesting this duty, particularly because of your gender. By your manner, you've made it clear that you disapprove of Relocation. I appreciate how you feel, but we both know it's necessary. I think we both know, as well, that there will be officers and administrators who'll abuse their positions during the Relocation. But I feel that you and I are like-minded enough to see that Tulenar and its assembly center will be run without prejudice."

  A stony silence piled up between them. Doris surprised herself by keeping her tone even when she said, "Well, me too, Captain. But I'm not doing much about it by standing here. If you'll excuse me..."

  / / / /

  The half-moon rose in the east, translucent against the sky as it chased the sun, red and raw-looking, into the western mountains. There was a twenty-minute break in the madness of the day, and Doris was flinging arrows at her target. She wasn't doing a very good job. Harriet Haku cleared her throat as she walked up behind her.

  "Thanks for the warning, Harriet."

  "I just wanted to let you know I was heading back."

  Heading back. Harriet never called the barracks "home." Doris turned to her secretary.

  "Anything new I should know?"

  "Not really," Harriet replied. "I put a reminder on your desk about Block Four. They've chosen a manager and he wants to see you after Ten's council meeting tonight."

  "I remember."

  Doris had a good, professional relationship with Harriet, one of the "older" Nisei, in her late twenties. But the distance was always there between them. Now she looked at Harriet's features, those of her heritage and those that were uniquely her own. Her face was more triangular than round. Her cheekbones were set unusually high. The faint lines at her eyes would someday be crow's feet. Her forehead was broad and small. Harriet was looking back just as frankly.

  "Something else before I go?"

  "No, Harriet, thanks. Sorry." She rubbed her eyes. "My spark plugs aren't all firing right now."

  "Good night."

  What had she tried to see in Harriet's face, just then? Maybe nothing. Doris felt more tired than usual, and she knew part of it was disappointment. Things were already edgy between her and the new C.O. She would be lying to herself if she didn't own up to how badly she'd handled things, but ...

  Necessary. He'd called the Relocation necessary. Damn. He was just another military man, after all. She had really hoped he might be a different animal.

  Chapter 3

  Lakeside Post Assembly Center

  Evening. Second Quarter Moon.

  Max sat in the dark in Eshelmann's little cabin, eyes closed, glasses perched on the easy chair's arm. The house didn't feel like home yet. It still held the scents of Eshelmann.

  He was thinking about the long day he'd just spent. He had awoken full of enthusiasm, but that enthusiasm had taken some hits once he'd begun the tour with Doris Tebbe. Civilians and military. Oil and water. Who the hell thought up the grand idea of having the Army run the assembly centers and a civilian council run the camps? It was a bad arrangement. The Relocation would go more smoothly if it were fish or fowl, but not both.

  He put his glasses back on, rose and went to the kitchen for a beer. He reached into the Frigidaire, popped the bottle cap at the wall-mounted opener and drank a quarter of the brew in one gulp, knowing his inner argument was a pointless one. The Army was here, the War Relocation Authority was here and that was that. He moved through the little cabin's rooms, feeling Eshelmann everywhere.

  How did things go so wrong so fast between Doris Tebbe and him? She sure as hell didn't try very hard to things easier. She was pissed from the moment he walked up behind her while she was at her archery.

  "Screwed up right at the get-go," he said to himself.

  Of course, her attitude had a lot to do with how she obviously felt about the Relocation. She didn't simply dislike it, she was opposed to it. Grudgingly, he had to give her credit for the conviction he saw in her small, cool eyes. Especially since she wanted an appointment as a center administrator. Bet she had to fight tooth and nail for it, considering her views and her sex. There was a lot to admire about a woman like that, rather he liked her or not.

  He smiled a little, remembering how she bristled when he called the Relocation necessary. Yeah, that one was his fault. He could have waited a day or two before delivering his little speech, but he was eager to test the waters. One way or the other, it had to be said. She had to know where he stood on the matter. The Relocation was necessary.

  He thought about the newspapers and the official reports, warning of the dangers of subversive activity near coastal military installations. He thought of the accounts of angry, fear-struck Americans taking the war out on other Americans who happened to have yellow skin and almond eyes. He remembered a newspaper picture of the San Francisco Chinese with large lapel buttons reading "I AM CHINESE," hoping avoid being spat on or molested. He took four more gulps, finishing off the beer.

  He thought of the anguished faces of the transferees as they boarded the buses that morning at the assembly center. They knew less about their destination, Tulenar, than Max did. He doubted there would be a single subversive in twenty busloads of Nisei and Issei; a true fifth columnist, the favored term these days for a disloyalist. One whose heart beats for Japan. One who might be willing to work subtly, seditiously for the sake of the emperor.

  But that one possibility did exist, whether Max doubted it or not. And that one, theoretical subversive was dooming the whole coastal population of Japanese and their North American children -from southern California to northern Canada- to barbed wire and dormitories for as long as the war might last. Prison. Mrs. Tebbe no doubt thought of Tulenar as a prison, and she was right. Life was detestable at times like these. And there wasn't a goddamned thing a man could do about it.

  He walked out the front door and stood on the little porch. The scent of the house's wood ambled past his nose. Tomorrow he'd try to find the time to unpack some of his personal things, spruce up the rooms, add some comforts.

  He looked out at the administration b
uilding of the assembly center. Then his gaze wandered to the dormitories, where the transferees were housed with nothing to do but wait on the Army's decision to bus them to Tulenar. He couldn't see well past the administration building. The golden lights of the dormitory windows seemed fuzzy and distant.

  He lifted his face to the black sky, the stars too small for his wounded eyes to discern. But the moon was easy to see, half-born and moving to maturity.

  Chapter 4

  Tulenar Internment Camp

  Midmorning. Full Moon.

  The new arrivals -over two hundred of them- squinted at Doris, perched on the little grandstand, the morning sun relentlessly in their eyes. Paper tags tied to the fronts of jackets, shirts and blouses twisted in the gusty breeze. Evacuees were told the tags ensured that family members wouldn't be inadvertently separated. True. But this was a secondary value. Doris had no doubt her charges understood the real advantage of having the internees neatly reduced to numerical code.

  Elsewhere in the melee of people, stood long tables overburdened with suitcases and duffel bags. The camp's Interior Security Police -Nisei, mainly, but overseen by WRA supervisors- checked batches of luggage for any contraband that may have slipped past Lakeside Assembly Center. Nearby, an official pulled a Kodak from a steamer trunk and handed it to the supervisor, who said to the guilty woman, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. Photographic equipment is not allowed." Doris raised her megaphone and her voice over the woman's protests to begin her speech.

  "Good morning. I'm Mrs. Doris Tebbe, Center Administrator for Tulenar. The War Relocation Authority hopes to make your stay here as comfortable as possible and wishes to reassure you that the government is doing everything it can to make this stay as brief as possible. To the east are the registration tables. Besides registering, if you have any loose ends regarding your homes or property storage, any questions about the security of your monetary assets, the registrars will direct you to the Federal Reserve Bank's station. You will also receive information about your coupon allotments. After you've registered, you will be escorted to your assigned dormitory blocks.

  "Conditions here are not as monotonous as at the assembly center. Most of the blocks have well-supplied recreation halls, many have playgrounds with swings, monkey bars and volleyball nets. Several have libraries and toy loan centers. And there are plans for a Shibai Theatre to be erected within the next few months. There are also many positions to be filled, such as medical and academic, farming and food production, our local printing press. Once you are settled into your quarters, staff interviewers will visit to discuss all the options. May I stress, however, that no one is required to work, and that the War Relocation Authority will indeed carry out its obligation to see to your needs. But for those who wish to help improve the quality of life here at Tulenar, there are many paying options. Salaries begin at $14.00 a month. Now please step over to registration."

  Twice more she had to deliver her speech. Twice more she heard the startled complaints crackle through the masses: More registration! How many times must we line up and be counted? At last Doris could step off the stand, the long day still ahead of her. She made her way over to the high school.

  Classes were not yet in progress, but the long, flat structure was taking in and returning a steady stream of people, both evacuee and staff, readying the place for the coming school year. It would have been an almost homey sight, actually, except for one thing...whitewash graffiti scrawled across the tarpaper: JAP PRISON. SET US FREE.

  It wasn't the first case of vandalism since the camp opened. Probably wouldn't be the last. And her heart wasn't really in the dead-end task of trying to find the culprits but she was, after all, Center Administrator. A few of the Issei had requested something be done, and the present WRA head of the internee's police force, a fellow by the name of Eaves, was less than enthusiastic about his duties.

  She watched the comings and goings a while. She was no closer to figuring out how to start investigating than when the complaint was first brought to her. Then she saw a clergyman emerge from the school, his sleeves rolled above his elbows, his Anglican collar stiff and white above the black shirt.

  "Reverend..." She headed toward him and remembered to bow, courteously but with brevity, then thrust out her hand. "Doris Tebbe, C.A."

  He smiled a polite, distant smile and accepted the handshake. Without returning the bow. "Is it Mrs. or Miss Tebbe? I'm Arthur Satsugai. Something I can help you with?"

  The inflection in his voice startled her. It was completely American. In spite of his collar, she had assumed the minister was an Issei, a Japanese-national, because he was clearly in his forties. Middle forties, Doris estimated.

  "Well...uh, it's Mrs. And I don't know really. I was asked to do a little investigating by some of the Issei residents of Block Four." She motioned to the defiled school wall. "The graffiti..."

  "I see." His smile remained aloof. "I assure you, Mrs. Tebbe, I didn't do it."

  Doris laughed too nervously, still frustrated by her mistake. "And I'd so hoped for a confession. Are you from one of the blocks near the school, Reverend? Is it Reverend or Father or...?"

  "In the Episcopal tradition, Mister and Father are both correct. I have no preference. Your choice. And yes, to your first question. Block Four. You're wondering if I've seen anything?"

  "Or heard something. Perhaps a teenaged boy boasting to his friends. I'm aware of a group of Nisei youngsters who like to call themselves the Inu Hunters. Inu is Japanese for dog, isn't that correct...that is...do you know?"

  "Yes, I do and, yes, it is."

  "Mrs. Haku, my secretary, has had an encounter with one or two of their membership. They jeered her, called her an informant stooge. It seems to me someone from the group would be the likely suspect."

  "I see."

  "You've not heard anything that might be helpful?"

  "Is it the graffiti you're concerned about, Mrs. Tebbe, or the cat calling?"

  Doris's chagrin evaporated. "Mr. Satsugai. I don't want to clap leg irons on a group of young boys who have every right to their anger. But appropriate discipline is in order. Whoever these young men are, they're upsetting the older residents because their frustration is manifest here." Doris pointed to the white wash. "Do you know something or don't you?"

  "'Appropriate discipline.' In a prison camp surrounded by military police. Believe me, Mrs. Tebbe, I'm being completely honest when I say that I don't know who painted those words on the school. But if I did -under the circumstances- I wouldn't tell you."

  Doris crossed her arms, but Mr. Satsugai continued:

  "Much as I'd like to trust my government, I wouldn't turn our children over to your police because of cat calls and white wash."

  Her first thought was to object. She wasn't a bully! She wasn't going to toss them into a military brig! She looked into his calm, steady eyes, at level with her own, and something occurred to her. This had to be the minister she had been hearing about through the social workers. Only three months in the camp, but his reputation for leadership was growing with Issei and Nisei alike. An idea lit up inside her.

  "All right, Mr. Satsugai. What about policing them yourself?"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Do you think you can do a better job organizing the internee police force than I can?"

  She watched Mr. Satsugai's face reflect confusion, then skepticism. "Are you serious?"

  "Very much so."

  When he smiled this time, it seemed to Doris the distance was lessened.

  / / / /

  Her palms were clammy and her stomach queasy. Too much coffee and no lunch. But it had been a productive afternoon with Mr. Satsugai, in spite of the contentious sparring:

  "How much authority do the internee police have, Mrs. Tebbe?"

  "You have it all. There's a reason M.P.'s aren't seen within Tulenar's confines. Their duties are limited to unauthorized ingress or egress. By law, they can't interfere with internee matters, barring major emergencies."


  "Major emergencies. Like peaceable dissent, for instance...?"

  "Legal, peaceable dissent is your birth right, Mr. Satsugai."

  "Yes, of course. The government wouldn't dream of infringing on our birth rights."

  His inclination to treat her like an adversary rankled. Doris's insistence that she didn't like the circumstances any more than he only seemed to grate on him more. Still... she had to admit she felt a certain zing when the arguments flared. The particular importance she placed on his good will caught Doris by surprise.

  In the end, they managed to wrestle out a basic plan for the internee police. There was no getting around the fact that the police had to be overseen by a WRA supervisor, but there was no policy forbidding the Center Administrator from being the supervisor. All Doris had to do was delegate a couple of other responsibilities to one of her staff, and she knew exactly who. Eaves, the present police supervisor.