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35. Nobu
- University of Arkansas Press
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long day of packing tomorrow.” He pulled Sachi up. “Come on, off to bed.” Dragging her feet, she pushed through the curtain into the room where Mama lay silent. Early evening twilight cast a dim light below the front door, and muffled voices from surrounding stalls drifted into their room. She wasn’t ready for sleep, and she sure wasn’t ready to crawl into bed with Mama. But there was nowhere else to go. She gently lifted her pillow, hoping not to disturb Mama. She knew her mother wasn’t asleep—her breathing did not hold the rhythm she’d grown accustomed to since sharing a bed. What did Mama think about as she lay there? Was she still angry with Sachi? Did she still wonder what Papa would think? No matter. The last thing she wanted was to get Mama started again. As she slowly pulled her pajamas from under the pillow, her heart pounded so hard she wondered if Mama might hear it. She undressed in the darkening room and laid her clothes on the table next to the bed. In the lonely stillness, she buttoned her pajama shirt. Her fingers trembled as she anticipated the return of Mama’s anger. But there was only quiet. Maybe silence was worse than rage. She lay down and waited for the sound of Mama’s slumber. Long, slow breaths. A gentle snore. Instead, she felt Mama’s warm body, tense and unmoving. Inches apart, yet a world away. Sachi clung to the edge of the bed, sad at the thought that Mama disliked her as much as she disliked Mama. CHAPTER 35 Nobu SEPTEMBER 25, 1942 Nobu carried the last of the bags out of the stall. Mama and Sachi had already left, taking what they could carry to the area where they had been told to wait. In less than an hour, all of the families scheduled to The Red Kimono 135 be transferred to Arkansas would be loaded onto buses that would take them to the train station. He walked back into the apartment and looked around once again to make sure they had not forgotten anything. Mama had tried to make the small space feel like home, but nothing she placed in the room, not the pictures on the wall, the dish towels by the large bowl that served as a sink, or the books that had lined their shelves, could take away the lingering stench of manure in the dirt floors. No, it was never like home, just a horse stall in disguise. He sat for the last time on his hay mattress and took the journal from his shirt pocket. September 25, 1942 Today we are leaving for Arkansas. I know nothing of Arkansas, except that it is far away from this place—so far that we will be on a train for days. I’ve never been on a train before. Maybe I’d be excited if it weren’t for the reason we’re going. Once again, we have no choice in the matter. Once again, Mama cries at night and Sachi is sad to leave her friends. Though I hate to admit, maybe it’s best that Sachi must leave her friend, Sam. Don’t get me wrong. I do not agree with Mama that Sam should be judged by his father’s profession. I know what it’s like to be considered less than equal for something out of my control. Am I less American than the uniformed guard who stands at the gate, only because Japan attacked Pearl Harbor? Is Sam less than Sachi, because his father is a butcher and our father was a banker? We do not have control over such things, yet we are judged because of them. But Mama has nobody to support her. Sachi is still angry with me for acting like Papa, but I am the man of the house now and must protect the honor of this family, whether I like it or not. Shikata ga nai. Still, I’m sorry Sachi must leave Sam. I think she has a crush on him. And what about me? I’m damn mad about not getting to know Yuki, too. It would be even harder if we had had the chance to get to know each other like Sachi and Sam did. At least Kazu is going to Arkansas, too. He and his mother will be on the same train. Imagine. They still don...