The Many Lives of June Crandall

by Suzanne Whitfield Vince

  Grace yanked her body from underneath his and spun around to see what had happened.

  Valerie stood over Robbie, holding a large, bloody rock in her hand.

  Grace tugged her dress down and noticed the trickle of blood down her legs. Her eyes grew wide and her cries froze in her throat. She looked up at Valerie, who dropped to her knees and pulled Grace into her arms.

  As Valerie held her, Grace's cries dislodged from her throat, wracking her entire body and filling the night air.

  Several people came running out of the gym, including Father Tim, who'd been chaperoning the dance.

  Father Tim quickly surveyed the situation and began issuing orders. After ordering all of the other children back inside the gymnasium, he told Valerie to go inside and ask Sister Penny to call the police, and then an ambulance. He would stand watch over Robbie--still lying unconscious on the ground--until the paramedics and the police arrived.

  Father Tim helped Grace into the back seat of his car and drove her to the hospital to be examined.

  Grace lay down and curled into a ball, whimpering like a wounded dog. Father Tim drove as quickly as he could, and when they arrived at the emergency room, he carefully laid Grace on the gurney.

  After doctors examined Grace and collected evidence into a rape kit, the police arrived with Valerie in tow.

  Valerie stood protectively in front of Grace as the police questioned her, squeezing her hand and wiping her tears until all of their questions had been answered. When the police were finished, Father Tim took them back to St. Andrews.

  When Father Tim tucked her into bed, Grace grabbed Theodore Izzle and unleashed all of the terror of the night, crying a river of tears into her beloved bear. And when she did, she felt calmer and her breathing began to slow.

  And she slipped into another wild dream.

  Chapter Five

  She was again standing in a field with a hoe in her hand. She looked down at her gloved hands and from the skin peeking out the top of the gloves, she could see that her skin was darker than normal.

  "Hiroko," she heard a man yell. "Hiroko!"

  She looked around and when she saw no one else in the field, she realized that he had been speaking to her.

  "What are you doing?" he asked, once again speaking in a language she'd never heard before but somehow understood.

  "I...I'm sorry, Father," she answered, not exactly sure how she knew this man was her father but going with it. This was kind of cool.

  "Oh, Hiroko, you are useless to me," he said, his face pinched. "Go inside the house. I don't have time to deal with you right now."

  Grace went into the little house, ran straight to the water basin and stared at her reflection in the water. What she saw took her by surprise. She was a young, skinny Oriental girl with long dark hair and brown eyes that curved at the ends. She was pretty, but awkward looking, and guessed that she was around ten. She looked around the dilapidated house, and although she had never seen any of these things before, everything was familiar, and she remembered everything about her life as Hiroko......Hiroko Yamamoto.

  She was the daughter of peasant farmers who lived outside of Tokyo, not long after the American, Admiral Perry, had shown up with his warships and forced the Meiji Restoration.

  When she was nine, her mother had died of malaria. She and her mother had been very close, and Hiroko was devastated by the loss. When her mother was alive, Hiroko went to school and did chores around the house while her mother worked in the fields alongside her father. But since her mother's death, her father made her work the fields with him. Food was scarce and she was a weak child, so she was not able to do the hard manual labor her father asked her to do. That explained why he had yelled at her before.

  When her father came into the house later, he paced back and forth and told her he could no longer take care of her, and that she must go.

  His words were a slap across the face. "What are you saying, Father?" she asked, crying now as if for her life.

  "I will make the arrangements." He slammed the thin door behind him on his way out.

  She yanked open the door and followed him. "No, Father, I will do better, please don't send me away! Father, please! I will be good, I promise."

  Her father did not reply and she collapsed in the dirt, slumping against the door frame, where she eventually fell asleep waiting for his return.

  When she awoke the following morning, her father was not there. He returned later that night with several men. He told her to pack her things. She fell to her knees and clutched his leg, begging him to change his mind, but he did not. The men dragged her away with none of her belongings. She kicked and screamed and pleaded as they placed her in a carriage and rode away from the small farm.

  Hiroko was sent to live in a house of women of pleasure in the Yoshiwara district of Tokyo. Until she was thirteen, she would do chores around the house, but when she came of age, she would become a full-fledged prostitute at Yoshiwara's most famous brothel.

  The work was hard, and the older girls treated her like a slave. She hated everything about her life at the brothel, and she cried for her mother every night for the first year. After that, she made up stories about a life that included only her and her mother, where they lived in a palace with servants and had everything their hearts desired. This fantasy comforted her, if only for one brief moment at a time.

  When Hiroko was twelve, a new girl came to live with them. This girl was several years older than she, and was the oddest-looking person Hiroko had ever seen. She had the same dark skin and dark hair that the rest of them had, but she had intense blue eyes and beautiful lips. The most unusual thing about her, though, was her name--June Crandall. When she said her name, Hiroko giggled, then immediately slapped her hand over her mouth.

  June scowled. "What's so funny?"

  "I'm sorry, I did not mean to be rude, but...you have a funny name."

  June lifted an eyebrow, eying the skinny girl with curiosity. "You're right, I do. What's your name?"

  "My name is Hiroko."

  "Come to my room tonight after work, Hiroko."

  Hiroko tried to mask the excitement she felt at being invited to June's room. "It would be an honor." She bowed to the older woman. She had never stayed up that late before, and she had to pinch herself a few times to prevent herself from falling asleep. When she heard the last customer leave, she tiptoed down the hall to June's room and tapped lightly on the door.

  "Come in," June said.

  Hiroko poked her head in the door and June ushered her in. "Sit."

  Hiroko sat on the bed and watched June change her clothes and remove her makeup. While June was sitting in front of the mirror, Hiroko picked up a hairbrush and began brushing June's silky hair. June lit a cigarette and handed it to Hiroko, who politely declined.

  "How old are you?" June asked.

  "Twelve."

  June smiled knowingly. "So you haven't even had your first customer yet, huh?" Hiroko shook her head and June held out the cigarette again. ""Take it."

  Hiroko held the cigarette and took her first puff, followed immediately by a fit of coughing.

  "Easy, kid. Try a smaller puff."

  Hiroko tried again with more success.

  "Good job." June took the cigarette back. "These things will become your best friend when you start seeing clients."

  "Yes, ma'am," Hiroko said.

  She went to visit June every night after that, and June taught her everything she knew about being a prostitute, from how to dress, how to apply her makeup, and how to entertain the customer before the dirty deed. She told Hiroko what customers liked and disliked, and how to handle herself when they started to get out of line.

  Hiroko would lie on June's narrow bed every night after the last customer had gone, and when June was done changing, she would crawl into bed next to her. The girls would lie huddled together, talking all night sometimes. Hiroko loved to watch June as she told stories of former clients, some of them very imp
ortant dignitaries, some of them visiting Westerners, and other interesting people she had met along the way. She loved the way June's mouth moved as she spoke. There was a certain familiarity about her that she couldn't put her finger on. It was as though they had met before, in another place, or another time.

  Hiroko looked up to June like a big sister. June was very protective of her, and she felt safe and loved when she was with her. On Hiroko's thirteenth birthday, June gave her a beautiful hair clip and a pack of cigarettes for her first night of real work.

  "Come by when you're done," June told her.

  Hiroko nodded, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

  June wrapped her arms around the young girl and held her trembling body to her. Then she drew back and took Hiroko's hands in hers. "Listen to me. Everything will be fine. I promise."

  Hiroko gave an imperceptible nod and marched bravely back to her room, where she dressed and carefully applied her makeup. She felt odd in the clothes she was wearing, and wore her hair down straight at the client's request. She didn't recognize herself in the mirror, but she knew that all too soon, this would be normal for her.

  She sat down on the bed, squeezed her eyes closed and gulped down several breaths. She wanted to run. She wanted to flee. She wanted to be anywhere but here. But there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. This was her life now.

  At the knock on the door, she rose, bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to keep the tears that threatened at bay, and opened the door. The man reached for her and she averted her eyes. She did all the things that June had told her to do, but still the tears trickled down her face while the sweaty, smelly man finished his business.

  When the last client left, Hiroko ran down to June's room and flew into her arms.

  "There, there," June said. "The worst is over."

  They climbed into bed that night and June held her while she cried. June cried with her.

  It was a dreadful life, but having June in the house made it tolerable for Hiroko. She knew that at the end of the night she had her time with June to look forward to.

  One night, after her last customer had gone, Hiroko started down the hallway toward June's room. As she drew closer, she heard June scream. She froze, then raced to the end of the hallway and grabbed the wooden plank lying at the top of the stairs. She sprinted the rest of the way to June's room, burst through the door and swung the board at the man's head, over and over, until he stopped moving.

  The girls looked at the man lying on the floor and then at each other.

  June dropped to her knees next to the man, and put her ear in front of his mouth. After a moment, she said, "He's dead."

  Hiroko trembled so hard she dropped the board. "He...I did not mean--"

  June took her in her arms. "It's all right. I would have done the same if I could."

  After the trembling ceased, Hiroko said, "What are we going to do?"

  June stepped back and undressed, suddenly all business. "We leave. He was a government official. Nothing good will happen if we stay here. Go to your room, pack all of your jewelry and put on your plainest clothes. Then come back here. When the house has quieted down, we will go."

  June peeked down the hall to make sure nobody was around. When the time was right, they tiptoed down the stairs, slipped out the back door and into the night. Their hearts pounded as they ran through the narrow lanes of Tokyo as fast as their legs would carry them. When she ran out of breath, Hiroko stopped and pleaded with June. "Please, I cannot run anymore. Where are we going?""

  "I have a plan. Come, we are going to Takahashi-san's house."

  "No!" Hiroko stopped cold in her tracks. "He is a magistrate. He will have us thrown in jail."

  June turned to her friend. "He is a magistrate who is in love with me. He will help us. Come, let's go."

  Hiroko followed reluctantly, and when they got to Takahashi-san's house, they could see through the window that he was still up, sitting in his study. It was near dawn when June tossed a pebble at the window, and after the second time, he looked out and saw them. He pointed toward the back and the girls went around the house to meet him.

  "What are you doing here, June?" His voice was barely a whisper.

  "We are in trouble, Takahashi-san," she said. "We need your help."

  "What have you done this time?"

  "She did nothing, honorable sir," Hiroko said. "A man was attacking June and I...hit him. And...I killed him."

  Takahashi-san gripped June's shoulders. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes, I am fine, thanks to Hiroko. The man was out of control. He would have killed me. She saved my life."

  Takahashi-san bowed in thanks to Hiroko and told the girls he would help them. He had a country house where they could stay until he found a safe place for them to live. He drew a map to the house and gave them some food and water to take with them on their journey. He kissed June passionately before they left, and told them he would see them soon.

  The girls traveled through the rest of the night and when daylight broke, they took shelter inside an abandoned farmhouse for the day. Outside there was a light but steady rain, and the leaky roof made for wet conditions inside the old structure. Shivering, the girls huddled together and attempted to keep warm, and when night came, they resumed their trek to Takahashi-san's home in the country.

  They arrived on the second night, still wet and cold, and let themselves in. They were hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, and after eating the rest of their rations and having a drink of water, they climbed into bed. It was an odd, Western bed, raised from the floor with metal springs underneath. But it was the softest, most comfortable bed Hiroko had ever slept in. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she thanked her ancestors for June, who had given up her freedom to protect her.

  "Thank you," she whispered to June, who was softly snoring beside her. There were many beds in the house, but they had gotten used to the comfort of sleeping next to each other.

  The next morning, Hiroko was awakened by the gentle shaking of her friend. She opened her eyes to a strange world full of Western...

  The strange world was Peekskill, New York. She was Grace Adams and she was back in the orphanage.

  "Grace, are you okay?" It was Valerie.

  "Yes, I'm...fine, why wouldn't I be?""

  "You look a little out of it and after what happened last night, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

  Grace blinked a few times to clear her head. What had happened the night before? She racked her brain trying to remember, and then it registered. Rotten Robbie. The rape. And Valerie standing there with a bloody rock.

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes and she blinked them away. "Yes, I'm okay. Thanks for asking. I just had a very strange dream. It felt so real, and for a minute I didn't know where I was."

  She thought about the friend she'd made in her dream, June Crandall, and she remembered the name from her dream about the Nazi concentration camp. It had not only been the same name, but the same face. There must be some connection between the two dreams, but what could it be? In her first dream, June had been her mother, in this one she''d been her best friend. But both times, June had been there to comfort her, to take care of her. What possible connection could there be?

  Chapter Six

  A few weeks after the school year ended, the Sisters called the children together for an important announcement. A nervous buzz filled the air as they stood in the dining hall waiting for Mother Superior to arrive.

  "What do you think they're going to say?" Valerie asked Grace.

  Grace wasn't sure, but she knew it wasn't going to be good news. She could feel it in her bones.

  Instinctively, Valerie took her hand. "Hey, whatever it is, it will be okay."

  Grace remembered the day Maggie left. Sometimes things weren't okay.

  They quieted down more quickly than usual when Mother Pascal entered the dining hall.

  "Good morning, children," she said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news to share
with you today."

  Grace's heart clenched, and she didn't wait for the rest of the announcement. She knew what Mother was going to say, and she didn't want to hear it. Not again. She turned and ran out of the room, the thundering of her heart blocking the sound of the old nun's voice.

  She took the stairs two at a time and threw herself onto her small, gray metal-framed bed and pulled her pillow over her head. She started praying that she was wrong, that somehow, it would not be so. She had finally adjusted to life at St. Andrews and, while it wasn't perfect, it was familiar.

  The look on the other kids' faces as they made their way up to the room confirmed her suspicion, and Valerie filled in the details a short while later. Saint Andrews would close at the end of the summer. The children would all live in group homes until they could be placed with a foster family.

  Tears flowed like an angry river down her face, soaking her neck and the front of her starched white blouse. Valerie's arms went around her in a familiar embrace. She remembered Maggie's arms around her the night before she left, never imagining it would be the last time.

  When Grace drew back, she noticed the pain etched deeply in her friend's face, and realized that this was just as hard for her. Valerie had been living at St. Andrews since she was four, when her parents and her little brother had been killed in a car accident. Her parents had been only children and there had been no other relatives willing or able to take her.

  Grace had been through this before, but Valerie was being torn away from the people she loved for the first time. At least, the first time that she remembered.

  She pulled Valerie into a tight, protective embrace and held her there. They were both hurting. And there was no reason for it.

  None of the children were happy about the news. Mealtimes were quiet, and even recreation time became subdued. Grace retreated to her room when she wasn't working in the kitchen, and spent her time reading, writing, or talking to Valerie. They often curled up in the same bed together, talking late into the night about what their new lives would be like. They promised they would write to each other every day, swearing that they would always be best friends, no matter where they were.