Cover

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 1-11

read more

Part One

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 3-48

... Nam Kun Han, or Robert N. K. Han, as he was known at the shipyard, woke up early that morning, at 5:11, according to the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed. He was used to waking up early in the morning. That was his routine. Back home he usually woke up around 5, and given the three-hour time difference it was 2:11 at home. ...

read more

Part Two

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 51-149

... The mud was the color of red clay, like the dirt of Wahiawā. Han bent down, with one arm cradling his wet M1 against his midsection under the poncho, and touched the mud, rubbing a bit between his fingers. It had a gritty feel and the color was of the earth from the fields where he grew up, that red dirt of Wahiawā that stained his khaki school ...

read more

Part Three

pdf iconDownload PDF

pp. 153-161

... I didn’t want to tell Dad about Uncle Nammi. Didn’t think he would like it if I told him what the nurse had told me, that he was going into the deep end, especially about using his feces like finger paint. Didn’t want Dad to see Uncle Nammi in the state he was. But then I thought, my God, he better see his brother before . . . before it is too late....