The Red Kimono: A Novel

45. Sachi

CHAPTER 45 Sachi THANKSGIVING DAY, 1942 Thanksgiving blessings Elusive as butterflies Each one a treasure Sachi stared at the ceiling, feeling her body wake with a good, sleepy stretch and yawn. She listened to the patter of light rain outside and imagined Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing on the rooftop, like they did in the movies. The pitter-patter took her back to California, where she woke to the irregular cadence of drops falling from the elm tree in her backyard to the roof above her bed. Drip. Drip-drip. But in camp, other noises accompanied the sound of the rain— Nobu’s snores rumbling like thunder from behind his curtain, and the sound of plop, plop, plop from the bucket Mama placed by the door to catch water from the leaky roof. Nobu had tried to patch the holes with tin can lids, but somehow water always found a way to drip, drip, drip. Mama lay still and quiet next to her, but Sachi knew she wasn’t asleep. Every once in a while, she heard her sniffle, cluck her tongue. What was Mama thinking about? The rain? Papa? Thanksgiving Day? Sachi remained still and pretended she was asleep, too, listening to the sounds of the world waking; wind howled between the rows of barracks , rain whooshed against her window. How would the residents of Rohwer celebrate Thanksgiving? Many of them were Buddhist. But Papa always said Buddhist or not, there was always plenty to be thankful for. So they had celebrated with the American customs: turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pie. She remembered her last Thanksgiving morning—the sounds and smells that drifted into her bedroom from the kitchen. Utensils clanked 180 JAN MORRILL against pans, drawers and cabinets slammed, as Papa and Mama worked together to prepare the turkey. She had giggled about the way they whispered to each other so they wouldn’t wake their children. But all that clanking and banging could wake the neighbors next door! And oh, the scents of that morning. Hot turkey broth mixed with stuffing. Pumpkin pies baking in the oven. Wood burning in the fireplace . But that morning at Rohwer, the holiday aromas were only imaginary . She breathed in, yet no matter how deeply she inhaled, there was nothing of Thanksgiving in the air, only the smell of wet dirt, wood, and tar paper. She closed her eyes and tears began to burn. The first Thanksgiving without Papa. Mama turned toward the wall. She must be thinking about Papa, too. Sachi wanted to move closer to Mama’s warm body and wrap her arms around her for comfort. But she was afraid they’d both start to cry. No, not on Thanksgiving. Papa wouldn’t want that. She felt like she was bobbing up and down in an ocean of happy memories that made her sad to remember. Acknowledging the emptiness she and Mama shared would surely pull her under. “What are you thankful for, Sachi-chan?” Papa had asked her that last year, as she watched him carve the turkey. “Turkey!” she’d answered, sneaking a piece and putting it in her mouth. Her tongue tingled with the memory of its taste. Papa had frowned. “No more turkey until you give me a real list.” Then, she’d recited her list to him: “Well, I’m thankful for you, Papa. And Mama, Taro, and Nobu. My friends, a bed to sleep in.” She looked up and thought some more, before sneaking another piece of turkey. “And, of course, food to eat.” She grinned. Everything was different now. True, she still had most of what she was thankful for that Thanksgiving, but she was missing what she’d named first on her list. Papa. Still, she knew he would want her to focus on what she had, not on what she didn’t have. Her friends. How thankful she was for Jubie. So different from any other friend she had known before. Funny, sassy, silly, adventurous. And best of all, mischievous! The Red Kimono 181 What a daring surprise they’d planned for the day—a homemade meal, right in Sachi’s very own apartment. The mess hall was probably serving turkey, but where was the fun in waiting in line while a lukewarm lump of gravy was plopped onto meat and potatoes? Besides, she doubted Mama would think the day was special enough to...