Red Berries, White Clouds, Blue Sky

by Sandra Dallas

  “We could just take Carl to meet her, and maybe she’d get the idea on her own,” Tomi suggested.

  Ruth slowly nodded her head up and down. “I don’t know if that will work, but it’s worth a try.”

  Not long after that, Tomi knocked on Helen’s door. “I thought I’d take Carl out to play,” Tomi said.

  Helen frowned, her hands on her hips. “Why would you do that?”

  Tomi had thought Helen would be glad to get rid of her brother for a while, and she didn’t know what to reply. When in doubt, Roy always joked, tell the truth. Or part of it, Tomi thought. She said, “My friend Ruth, her brother died, and she misses him. Maybe playing with Carl would make her happy.”

  Helen thought that over. “I guess that’s all right.” It was cold outside, and Helen told Carl to put on his coat. “He doesn’t have mittens. We didn’t need them much in San Francisco.”

  Tomi took Carl’s hand in her own mittened hand and led him along the street to Ruth’s barracks. Ruth answered the door. She knew what Tomi was up to, of course, and grinned. “Oh, what a cute little boy. Who’s he?” she asked.

  “This is Carl. His sister Helen takes care of him. They’re orphans. I said I’d watch him for a little while. But he doesn’t have any mittens, and it’s too cold to play outside. Maybe we could read him a story. Do you have any books?”

  Before Ruth could answer Carl spotted the pull-toy that had belonged to Ben. “I want to play with the dog,” he said.

  “Oh no,” Ruth told him. She had a horrified look on her face. “Nobody plays with that but Ben—I mean, my mother,” she said.

  Carl looked disappointed, but he didn’t complain. He took off his coat and sat down on the floor. “You got anything to play with?”

  Ruth glanced at her mother, who sat in a chair, looking at the floor instead of at the children. She seemed to be ignoring them.

  “I have a pencil. Do you want to draw?” Ruth asked.

  Carl nodded, and Ruth gave him a pencil and the back of an envelope.

  “Can you draw a horse?” Tomi asked.

  “No, a dog. We had a dog. His name was Rusty.”

  Ruth turned to Tomi, her eyes wide. Then she nodded at the pull-toy. “That’s the name of Ben’s dog,” she whispered.

  Carl turned over onto his stomach and began drawing, laughing, and holding up the paper when he was finished. Tomi told him the drawing looked like a fish.

  “He’s not a fish. He’s Rusty.” He set the paper back down on the floor and made another drawing. “That’s a fish,” he said, holding up a picture of a blob. “Let’s go outside. I’ll draw another animal. I can use a stick in the dirt.”

  The three put on their coats, and as they left the apartment, Mrs. Hayashi asked quietly, “He’s an orphan?”

  “He and his brother and Helen. She’s only sixteen. She has to take care of Carl, so she can’t work or go to school. She can’t even let Carl go outside and play by himself, because he mixes up the barracks and gets lost,” Tomi explained.

  “Maybe you remember Helen, Mother,” Ruth added. “She sang in our church in San Francisco.”

  They left the apartment, and Carl played outside with Tomi and Ruth until he complained of the cold, and Tomi said it was time to take him home. “I don’t think your mom fell for it,” she said, disappointed. “She didn’t say anything.”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go back to the apartment for a few minutes,” Ruth told her.

  They took Carl back to the Hayashis’ barracks. As they walked down the hall, Tomi slipped and knocked against Carl. He giggled and knocked her back on purpose. As they entered the apartment, Carl told Mrs. Hayashi, “She bumped me, but I bumped her good.”

  Mrs. Hayashi smiled as she rose from her chair. The pull-toy was in her hand. “You may play with this. Very carefully,” she said, handing the dog to Carl. Then she nodded at the table. She had covered it with an embroidered white cloth and set of four tiny china cups as thin as butterfly wings on the table. A teapot rested on the table, too. And there was a small bowl of Japanese crackers. Mrs. Hayashi must have brought them from California, because Tomi had not seen them in the camp store.

  “Please sit down,” Mrs. Hayashi said. When they were all seated, Mrs. Hayashi poured tea into the cups. She was as graceful as a swan Tomi had seen once in California.

  “Oh boy, crackers!” Carl said. “Thank you, lady.”

  “She’s Mrs. Hayashi,” Tomi corrected.

  “You may call me Aunt Hayashi,” Ruth’s mother said. “And if you are careful, you may play with some other toys I have.”

  “Wow!” Carl said.

  Tomi stared at the table. She was afraid that if she looked at Ruth, Mrs. Hayashi would know they were up to something.

  After the tea was finished and Carl was rolling the dog back and forth, Mrs. Hayashi said, “I do not want to keep any girl from school. You may tell your friend I will watch Carl while she attends classes.”

  “Really? I never thought about that, but I’m sure Helen would be happy. That’s a really good idea you have, Mrs. Hayashi,” Tomi said. She had to work hard to keep from breaking into a grin.

  Mrs. Hayashi cleared away the tea things, and Ruth nudged Tomi in the ribs. “It worked. She thinks it was her own idea,” she whispered.

  Tomi wasn’t so sure, because as she opened the door to leave, Mrs. Hayashi called to her. “Oh, Tomi,” she said, and Tomi stopped. “You are a very clever girl.”

  1943 | CHAPTER TWELVE

  ROY and the ROYALS

  NOW that Helen was back in school, she ought to be happier, Tomi thought. She hoped Helen would smile and crack jokes the way the other bobby-soxers at the camp did. But she was wrong. Helen was as grumpy as ever.

  Each morning, Tomi stopped at Helen’s apartment to pick up Carl. She took him to Mrs. Hayashi. Then she and Ruth went on to school. Mrs. Hayashi watched Carl until Helen came for him in the early afternoon.

  But if Helen hadn’t changed, Mrs. Hayashi had. “Now that she spends the day with Carl, Mother’s as happy as she can be. She’s teaching Carl to fold paper into birds—it’s called origami—and they play catch and go for walks. Mother asked your mom to teach her to knit so she can make Carl a pair of mittens.”

  “I know. Mom told me your mother’s even cutting out fabric squares and triangles, and plans to make Carl a quilt,” Tomi said.

  “She’s happy again. She sings all the time. That was a good idea of yours, Tomi.”

  “Well, Helen isn’t happy, and she doesn’t sing. She still hates Tallgrass. That’s all she talks about. She’s in my brother Roy’s class, and he told me she’s the most bitter person he ever met.” He’d also told her Helen was the prettiest girl he’d ever met, as pretty as a pinup. Pinups were the beautiful young women whose pictures were in magazines. Soldiers sometimes tore out the pictures and taped them inside their lockers. Tomi knew her brother had a crush on Helen.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Ruth asked.

  Tomi thought that over as they came across hopscotch squares someone had drawn in the dirt with a stick. She hopscotched to the end of the squares, then hopped around on one foot and went back to the starting point. “I guess it must be hard to have to take care of your brothers when you’re only sixteen. Helen blames the government. She told me once she wishes she’d gone to Japan.” At the beginning of the war, the government had offered to send any Japanese living in the United States to Japan. A few, mostly those who had been born in Japan and had lived in the U.S. for a short time, left America, but not many.

  “Is she Issei?” Ruth asked.

  “No, her parents were Issei. They were born in Japan. She’s Nisei, second generation.” Tomi said. “Helen can’t speak Japanese.”

  “Then why in the world would she want to go to Japan?” Ruth wondered.

  “I guess she hates our country that much,” said Tomi.

  One day, Roy announced he and four other high school boys were forming a dance band just li
ke the Jivin’ Five band he’d had in California. They would call themselves Roy and the Royals. “Roy-als. Get it?” he asked. The band was Roy’s idea, and he was in charge. He went to his suitcase where he’d stored his clarinet when the family moved from the house in California, and took it out, playing a few notes. “We’ve even got our first gig scheduled. Too bad you’re little kids or you could come and hear us,” he teased Tomi and Hiro.

  “I want to go!” Hiro said.

  “You can’t dance,” Roy told him.

  “I can dance with Wilson,” he retorted. Wilson, Helen’s brother, had become his best friend.

  “And I can dance with Ruth,” Tomi added.

  “We will all go,” Mom said. “We will go as a family.”

  “A dance isn’t exactly a family event,” Roy said.

  “We will all go, or none of us will go.” Mom gave Roy a stern look. After a year in Tallgrass, many Japanese families in the camp had fallen apart. Families didn’t eat with each other, and without real jobs, the men no longer felt they were head of their households. But Mom had done her best to keep the Itanos together. She insisted they go to church together every Sunday and attend the movies with each other. Tomi thought attending Roy’s dances was another way to keep the family connection strong.

  For the next few weeks, Roy and the Royals practiced almost every day after school, in the Itanos’ apartment. People in the barracks kept their doors open to listen to the music. Although the walls between the apartments were so thin, they probably couldn’t have blocked out the sound if they’d wanted to. Only Helen kept her door closed. Tomi asked her why she didn’t want to hear Roy and his friends. Helen said, “It’s only noise. I used to dance to a real band at home. I heard Benny Goodman and Tommy Dorsey play,” she said, naming two famous dance bands. “And once I went to a Frank Sinatra concert. I heard him sing ‘Green Eyes.’ He was dreamy. So why would I want to listen to a hick band like your brother’s?”

  “They’re not hicks,” Tomi defended Roy. “The guy who plays the saxophone sings sometimes. He’s pretty good. I bet if you heard him, you’d think he was Frank Sinatra,” Tomi said.

  “Bet I wouldn’t,” Helen replied. “I would know he’s not Frank Sinatra because Frank Sinatra isn’t Japanese. That means he wouldn’t be in this camp. So how could he be singing in your apartment?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Tomi began.

  Helen shut the door in her face. Tomi remembered that word her teacher’s husband, the Boy Scout leader, had used—tolerance. It wasn’t just white people who didn’t have tolerance.

  Roy and the Royals played their first dance on a Saturday night in the summer of 1943. Tomi wore her red dress, the best of only three dresses she had in the camp. Mom washed Tomi’s hair and braided it wet. After her hair dried and Tomi unbraided it, her black hair was a waterfall of curls. Ruth promised to get dressed up, too, just like Mom and Mrs. Hayashi, because Mr. Hayashi promised that after the dance, he would take them all to the canteen. That was what they called the room in the camp where the evacuees bought soda pop and candy bars. It was as close to a restaurant as anything at Tallgrass.

  “We’re picking up Carl and Wilson on our way,” Mom said, then added, “and Helen, of course.”

  When they reached Helen’s apartment, the boys were standing in the doorway waiting, but Helen had on her old dress, and her hair wasn’t combed. “I’m not going,” she told them.

  “Of course, you are,” Mom said.

  “It’s just a crummy little dance. I’d rather stay home.”

  Mom had had enough. Helen had been bitter and rude ever since she’d moved into the barracks. “My son has a very nice band.”

  Helen shrugged. “I didn’t mean to say—”

  “Yes you did,” Mom interrupted. “I expect you to come and see for yourself how good it is.”

  “I’m staying home.”

  “To do what? Sit in the dark and feel sorry for yourself, the way you always do?”

  Mom must have been very angry at Helen, because Tomi had never heard her speak to anyone that way. This must have been another of Mom’s changes. Once or twice, she’d even spoken her mind—something that was rare among Japanese women. This was one of those times. “Do you think you’re the only one who didn’t want to come to this camp? Are you the only one who’s been deprived of school and work because you’re Japanese? It was Tomi’s idea that Mrs. Hayashi would take care of Carl. Have you thanked her?”

  Helen stared at Tomi. “I didn’t know.”

  “You don’t know how nice people have been to you. Mr. Hayashi is taking us out for a Coca-Cola after the dance, and you would insult him if you didn’t come. Now change your dress and brush your hair. We will wait for you.” Mom grabbed the door handle and banged the door shut. Then she turned to Tomi and put her hands over face. “Such awful things I said. This place has made me a harsh woman.”

  Tomi beamed at her. “I bet it worked.”

  And it had, because in a few minutes, Helen opened the door. She wore a green dress that Tomi had never seen. Not only was her hair combed, but she had put on lipstick.

  Mom and Tomi walked behind Helen and her brothers, far enough away so that Mom could whisper. “I am proud of you, Tomi. You don’t want to be at Tallgrass any more than Helen does, but you work hard to make the best of it. You try to be happy and to make the people around you happy.” Mom took Tomi’s hand. “I’ve seen what you’ve done for some of the other children to help them adjust to the camp. You are a good girl. And you are a good daughter.”

  Tomi blushed. She wasn’t used to compliments, and she didn’t know what to say. She was glad when they reached the Hayashis’ barracks and she didn’t have to reply. Instead, she admired Ruth’s silk dress. Mrs. Hayashi had sewn one of her own dresses to fit Ruth. Mrs. Hayashi was becoming quite a seamstress.

  They walked together to the building where the dance was held. Mr. and Mrs. Hayashi led the way, followed by Helen and her brothers. Next came Mom walking alone and finally Tomi and Ruth. As she watched the Hayashis walk arm in arm, Tomi thought how lonely her mother must be without Pop. Mom had written letters asking if Pop could join them at Tallgrass, but nobody had answered her. And Pop’s letters didn’t say much. He had been transferred to a camp in California, but he didn’t tell them why. Tomi wondered if Pop would stay there for the entire war.

  The dance floor was lit with colored lights, and high school girls had decorated it with crepe paper streamers. The band was already playing, and couples were dancing. They weren’t just high school kids, although the older people left the dance floor when Roy and the Royals played a jitterbug because they didn’t understand the new dance steps.

  “I wish I could jitterbug,” Ruth said, watching the dancers.

  “I’ll teach you,” Tomi replied. “I already know how.”

  “I’ll look silly,” Ruth said.

  “No you won’t. Look at how many other people don’t know how to jitterbug, and they’re having a good time.” Tomi gestured at the couples stumbling around the dance floor. The two girls joined them, and in a minute, they were waving their arms and kicking their heels.

  Roy saw Tomi and grinned. He seemed glad his family had come. Tomi noticed him glancing at Helen and realized he was especially glad that Helen had come with them. Tomi and Ruth came close to the bandstand where Roy was. Tomi said, “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “Who, Ruth?” Roy asked.

  “As if you didn’t know who I mean! I’m talking about Helen.” A boy had approached Helen to dance, but she shook her head. Instead, she stepped out onto the dance floor with Wilson.

  “Oh, I hadn’t noticed.”

  “You did so.”

  Roy blushed, and Tomi knew she was right. “She won’t even look at me,” he said. “I’ve tried to start a conversation with her, but she won’t say a word.”

  “Maybe she would if you asked her to sing,” Tomi said.

  “She sings?” Roy ask
ed.

  “She has the most beautiful voice I ever heard,” Ruth told him. “She used to sing at church in San Francisco.”

  Roy shrugged. “We don’t play church music. We probably don’t play anything she knows.”

  “You play ‘Green Eyes.’ I bet she could sing ‘Green Eyes,’ ” Tomi said.

  Roy considered that. “You think so?”

  “We’ll go get her,” Tomi said.

  She and Ruth made their way across the floor to where Helen and Wilson had just stopped dancing. Helen did indeed look beautiful with her face flushed from the dancing. “You’re needed over here,” Tomi said. Before Helen could answer, Ruth and Tomi each took one of Helen’s hands and all but dragged her to the bandstand. “You know my brother Roy,” Tomi said.

  “Sure, why?” Helen answered slowly.

  “You’ll see.” She nodded at Roy.

  He finished a song. Then as people clapped, he said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I have a surprise for you. Helen Wakasa, the famous San Francisco songbird, is going to sing ‘Green Eyes,’ her favorite song.”

  Helen stared at Roy. Then she turned to Tomi. She didn’t look happy. “What is this?”

  “You’re going to sing,” Tomi said. When Helen put her hands on her hips and shook her head no, Tomi added, “You’ll look pretty stupid if you don’t.”

  Wilson and Carl ran across the dance floor, grinning at their sister. “Sing, Helen,” Wilson said.

  “Yeah, sing,” Carl said.

  “You’ll disappoint your brothers if you don’t,” Tomi told her.

  So Helen climbed onto the bandstand, and Roy and the Royals began playing “Green Eyes,” Helen’s favorite Frank Sinatra song. Helen started out slowly and softly. But as she began to sing, her voice grew louder. She smiled a little. By the time Helen was finished with the song, she was swaying to the music and grinning.