Rose’s energy returned during my visit; she spent less time drifting away into her thoughts, and she even laughed when a Canada goose chased me unprovoked in Stanley Park and literally goosed me in the derrière. Rose’s mood was so improved that Ma begged me to extend my leave. But my orders came in by telegraph and I needed to report back.
I nudged my elbow against Rose’s arm as we sat next to each other on the platform bench, waiting for the train to arrive at the station. ‘Please don’t worry about me. Your worry doesn’t make me any more or less safe. But it does make you unwell. And I worry when you are unwell.’
Tears gathered along the rims of her eyes and her thin throat visibly gulped back the emotional heaviness she felt. ‘I’m sorry.’
I extended my arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer to my side. ‘Don’t be sorry. Just be well.’
She nodded to promise she would try.
The train whistled its approach, so I hugged everyone, including Patch, and flung my kit over my shoulder. Ma’s complexion was green-tinged, as if she was sick to her stomach. Pa smiled in a way that made it seem he was grateful to have at least gotten the time together we did. Regrettably, Rose’s expression had fallen blank again.
Torn between guilt and duty, I reluctantly boarded. As the train pulled away, my parents waved. Patch barked. Rose turned and walked away, weeping. The despair of it all made me seriously question whether I was doing the right thing. I could only pray Chidori was faring better than Rosalyn. And the fearful realization that she might not be okay distressed me so much I decided to drown my worries with alcohol. Disappointingly, the strongest drink on the train’s bar-cart menu was beer. According to the bartender, conversion of the distilleries to manufacture gun shell powder, synthetic rubber, aircraft de-icing fluid and disinfectant for soldiers’ wounds had made alcohol for stiff drinks hard to come by. The beer wasn’t strong enough to even begin to make me feel better.
The following week, Gordie and I and the rest of the greenhorn pilots were put on a cross-country train. We spent two weeks in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and then shipped off over the stormy Atlantic to London, England. And just like that, a month later we found ourselves in the surreal position of flying very real Spitfires in the Mediterranean.
The soldier who had been placed in Michel’s cot started to shake in a fit. Inga ran to his side and called for the doctor as white foam bubbled out of the soldier’s mouth. Things like that happened so frequently, most of the other patients didn’t even look up from their books or interrupt their card games.
After almost two months at the POW hospital, Inga placed a pile of second-hand civilian clothes and a pair of ratty boots on the foot of my cot. She removed my pilot wings from my tattered uniform and searched through the pockets. She found the photograph of Chidori behind the lining and gazed sympathetically at it. The letter from my father was folded in the hiding spot too. I hadn’t opened it again since I read it the first time. I didn’t have to. I knew the words by heart. Inga transferred the letter to the borrowed jacket, then dug a little deeper into my uniform and found the small pebble from Mayne Island. I had forgotten it was in my pocket. She handed me the wings, the stone, and the photo, then left so I could dress. The photograph of Chidori was slightly scorched, but she still gazed back as if she could see me – from wherever she was.
The guard asked Inga the question, and that day, she reluctantly nodded in my direction. The guard waved his gun to signal for me to get walking. Inga busied herself by folding sheets on a wheeled cart.
‘Inga.’
She turned to face me, her eyes moist.
‘Danke.’
She forced a smile. ‘Bitte schön, Hayden.’ She glanced over at the soldier as if she expected to get in trouble. The guard didn’t say anything to her, but he shoved me harder than necessary in the back with his gun to make me get moving. To where, I didn’t know. I figured it wasn’t going to be pleasant though.
7 September 1941
Dear Diary,
I am still very confused and my overwhelming fear continues to pile up with each radio report or newspaper article. Hayden has been very respectful about giving me space to contemplate my conflicting feelings. Although I am very certain about my devotion for him, my intense adoration almost makes it worse. The news reports on the war effort all confirm the government truly and appallingly is considering placing outrageous restrictions on Japanese Canadians, including notions as ludicrous as imprisonment, internment camps and deportation. How is violation of rights and forced detainment of citizens any different than the acts of Fascism or Nazism? It certainly isn’t democratic. It is all very absurd and unfathomable that people born in Canada could be considered traitors. I am struggling to not take the unwarranted targeting personally.
My parents are more resolute about duty and accept that war leads to unprecedented circumstances that require everyone to make sacrifices to protect the country. They believe that if we need to prove our loyalty to Canada by enduring scrutiny, then so be it. But prison?
Although Uncle Massey diligently follows the news, he appears outwardly unaffected because he has always been the type to change the things within his power to amend and calmly accept the things outside his control. But the deep lines in his forehead as he stays up late into the night reading Tosh’s law books give the impression that inwardly he is not quite as resigned.
I would prefer to simply ignore all of the politics and live in blissful denial with Hayden, but it is not realistic. Even if we pretend the war or prejudice towards Japanese Canadians does not exist, that naiveté does not make the troubles disappear. I truly do make the effort to follow the philosophy of hope for the best and plan for the worst. The problem is I’m afraid to hope for a beautiful, loving future with Hayden, knowing that it could very likely be taken from us with no warning or justification.
Hayden slipped me a letter at church today that professed his undying commitment to me. He wrote that he is willing to be patient, for as long as it takes. And he reminded me to never lose faith in him. I do admire him for his steadfast loyalty and I am saddened that he is being hurt so profoundly by something that is not his fault. I read the letter through three times during the sermon and then folded it up and slid it into my pocket, hoping that if it were out of sight I would stop mulling over the heartfelt words. I have it memorized by heart, though, so I am preoccupied by it often, whether it is folded away or not. I dearly miss his companionship during this difficult time.
Hayden’s sister is moving tomorrow to Vancouver to start her nursing job. Now that I have remembered that, I feel even worse for Hayden. The two people he confides in are his sister and me. Now he will have neither of us close by. For the very first time in my life the exercise of expressing myself in my journal feels futile.
Chi
Chapter 12
My sister was scheduled to leave Mayne Island on the Princess Mary steamship to start her nursing job in Vancouver. Because of gasoline restrictions, we left the truck at home and walked with the pony and cart that we had loaded up to carry her luggage to the dock. Our parents were already in town for an Active Pass Growers’ Association meeting and met us at the ship. I hadn’t anticipated it would be as difficult to say goodbye to Rosalyn as it turned out to be. Maybe because I was already in a rotten mood over the increasingly alarming articles in the newspapers, which Chidori would have certainly read. She was probably terrified by the talk of detainment and deportation. The farewell for Rosalyn was made even more emotional because Chidori and her brothers happened to be at the dock to deliver their shipment of tomatoes to the steamer. And to top it all off, it didn’t help that my mother was nearly inconsolable.
As I hauled Rose’s suitcase and a trunk of her belongings up the gangway, Chidori rushed up the dock and hugged my sister to wish her well. I stepped back off the ship onto the dock and Chidori caught my hand, squeezing it briefly to acknowledge that she knew I needed to be consoled. I wanted to hold onto her longer,
but after she quickly thanked me for the letter I had given her at church, she released her grasp and rushed to go help her brothers load the last of the crates. Tosh and Kenji went about their business professionally as usual, but their demeanour was not jovial like normal. They were hurried and on edge, as if they felt unwelcome in their own home town.
Rose knew I had been taking everything hard, and when the ship’s final boarding whistle blew, she cradled my face between her palms. ‘I can feel it in my soul that everything between you and Chidori is going to work out just fine, dear brother. Just be patient. And don’t give up hope.’ She leaned in to kiss my cheek. ‘I love you. And I’ll only be a boat ride away.’
‘I love you, too. Good luck at your new job.’
She winked and then quickly hugged my parents once more before running up the gangway. Her hair scarf blew in the wind as she waved from the deck and blew us a kiss.
After the ship had steamed out into Active Pass, I glanced over at Chidori again. She had been watching me from up by the road and seemed torn, as if it was difficult to leave when she knew I was so sad. After a steeling breath, she lifted her hand to wave goodbye, then climbed into the truck with her brothers and drove away.
The next time I saw Chidori was at a fundraiser for the Red Cross held at the Agricultural Hall. All of the farmers and artisans were set up to sell their goods and donate their profits to support the troops overseas. It was busy because folks from all the other Gulf Islands had come over on the steamship to Mayne just for the sale.
Joey and I had taken the ferry to Victoria the week before to watch a flick at the movie theatre, and while I was there, I bought Chidori a clip for her hair. I didn’t know much about things like that, but the sales lady assured me the enamelled butterfly design was fashionable. She wrapped it in a small blue box and tied it with a white ribbon.
After the fundraiser I ran to catch up with Chidori as she cut across the road to walk home. I extended my arm to hand her the box, but she didn’t take it from me.
‘I shouldn’t accept a gift. Thank you anyway, Hayden.’
‘I insist.’
She sighed and stopped walking. The late fall air currents that gusted off the ocean were brisk, and she was wearing only a plaid wool skirt and cardigan sweater over her white blouse, so I removed my button-up jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She clutched the lapels and hugged the fabric around her thin frame as she watched me open the box and slide the clip into her hair. ‘I miss you. So much that I can’t eat or sleep.’
She clenched her eyes shut and nodded, as if perhaps she missed me just as much.
‘Music doesn’t make me want to dance any more. Sunshine doesn’t warm my skin any more. Books can’t spur my imagination any more.’
‘Hayden, I—’
I held both her hands and interrupted before she could protest. ‘I understand the gravity of what is being written in the newspapers, but I still have hope that the threats are nothing more than the rants of loud-mouth, bigoted bullies. I know you are worried, and we don’t have to go steady if you don’t want to, but can we please just go back to the way things were? I don’t want to live without you. I can’t.’
Her silence did not give the impression that she had nothing to say — the opposite in fact.
‘You don’t have to decide anything right now.’ I clutched her hands to my chest. ‘But would it be all right if I at least walked you home?’
‘Thank you for the hair clip but it’s better if you don’t walk me home.’ Her fingers slipped away from mine, then she dropped her gaze to the ground and picked up a pace to hurry away from me.
‘Is it really that easy for you to turn off your feelings for me?’ I hollered down the road after her.
‘Easy?’ She spun to face me and raised her voice in both volume and pitch. ‘This is not easy for me. It feels like my lungs have no air, my veins have no blood, and my heart has no reason to beat.’
After a moment to absorb the impact of her words I asked, ‘Then why are you still avoiding me?’
‘People want us to stay apart. It’s better if we do it ourselves now rather than have someone else do it to us later, don’t you think?’
‘No. I don’t want to give up without even trying.’
She glanced up at the sky, perhaps debating whether she wanted to continue the conversation or not. After a heavy pause she said, ‘If you and Kenji both applied for the same job at the lumber mill, who do you think would get the position?’
‘Both of us. They’re short-handed. What does that have to do with anything?’
She shook her head, frustrated that I was missing the point. ‘If there was only one spot, you would get it.’
‘You don’t know that. We’d both have an equal shot. And if I did get it, it would be because I work hard. It’s not as if things are just handed to me undeserved.’
‘I didn’t say you don’t work hard or that you don’t deserve the things you have achieved, but let’s say, for example, if they had to lay off only one of you, who would be let go? If there was an opportunity to be promoted to supervisor, and all other things were equal, who would move up the ladder?’
‘Depends which one of us is better at the job.’
‘No, in the scenario you’re both equally good at the job but one of you is Japanese-Canadian and one is not. The answer is you, Hayden. Always you. And that’s not fair. Kenji works hard, too. He’s talented. And he’d have to perform much better than you to even be considered. I’m not saying it’s your fault that things are that way, but it will be you that has the advantage. Because you look like all of the other men in positions of power and influence.’
‘Okay, maybe in some situations that’s true, but what does that have to do with you and me?’
‘The world sees you as an “us” and sees me as a “them”. They don’t see us as equals.’
‘But we are equal. Don’t tell me you’re going to cave into believing that we aren’t.’
‘I don’t believe it. The people in power believe it — the people who hire, make decisions, and make laws.’
‘Since when have you been the type of person who walks away from an injustice without fighting for what’s right? Why are you giving up before we even try?’
A frustrated flush flared across her cheeks. ‘There is a difference between choosing not to fight an adversary that can’t be beaten and giving up. Even if they don’t specifically deport me or throw my family and me in jail. People. Won’t. Accept. Us,’ she articulated slowly to drive it into my thick skull. ‘We can’t win.’
The crease between my eyebrows deepened to hear her talk that way. ‘We can. If we fight together.’ I stepped in close and cradled her face in my palms. ‘I don’t care what other people think. It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does matter if the government passes a law to take me away.’ Emotion rose in her voice. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt, and I certainly don’t want to be the reason that you get hurt.’
‘You shutting me out of your life hurts infinitely more than anything they could ever do to me.’
She frowned and her eyes seemed to turn an even darker brown. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry, just let me back in. I don’t want to go through even one more day without you in it.’
She stared down at her shoes. ‘Why me? There are at least a half-dozen other girls on the island you could spend your time with.’
‘What would even possess you to ask that question? They aren’t you. They don’t get out of the car to help tree frogs cross the road. They don’t teach all six of the Morgan kids to play violin, even though their father can’t afford to pay for lessons. Their laughs don’t sound like music. And they don’t know me better than anyone else on earth.’
‘You could learn to have feelings for someone more like you,’ she said softly, almost as if she could barely force herself to utter it.
‘I don’t want to.’ I wrapped my hands around hers. ‘But if you can
honestly say that you don’t share my feelings, then I will accept that. Tell me you don’t care about me and I will walk away right now.’
Her eyelids lowered in a slow, tear-filled blink. ‘I can’t do that, Hayden. You know I care immeasurably for you.’
‘Good.’ I ran my finger along her cheek. ‘Because if your feelings for me are as strong as my feelings for you, we can’t be torn apart, no matter what happens.’
She lifted her head and met my gaze. ‘How can you be so sure?’
‘What did you say that time when you told me why you love going to church? Do you remember?’
Her chest rose with a deep breath before she sighed. ‘I said God heals me. He forgives me for my faults and inspires me to be a better person.’
I rested my forehead on hers. ‘When I’m with you, I feel the way you feel when you’re with God. That’s how I’m sure.’
Her eyes brightened with a glimpse of hopefulness.
I pressed my lips to her ear and whispered, ‘Give in?’
After a long hesitation, she surrendered and nodded.
My knees nearly buckled in relief. ‘Thank you.’
Chapter 13
The German soldiers forced me to walk twelve hours to a train station in boots that were one size too big. Thoughts of escaping entered my mind whenever we passed a forested area, but even if I were able to slip away without getting shot, my feet were still not one hundred percent healed. They’d eventually catch me and definitely shoot me.
I couldn’t say how long the train ride took because I slept. Well, I slept until I had a nightmare about Rosalyn. I was in her room trying to convince her that Earl was still alive but had been taken prisoner in a camp that didn’t send out the letters and that’s why she hadn’t heard from him. She refused to believe me and claimed she had nothing left to live for. I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t reach her. Every time I lunged closer, the bed slid farther away from me and snatched her away into darkness. I watched her become engulfed and then sucked down into the flames of hell, which startled me awake.
All We Left Behind Page 9
