-
52. Nobu
- University of Arkansas Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
“Sounds like your pa was a good man. You were lucky to have him for the time you did.” He cleared his throat. “What I would’ve give to have a pa like that, a pa worth killing for.” CHAPTER 52 Nobu FEBRUARY 14, 1943 The day Nobu had looked forward to—but now dreaded—had arrived. Valentine’s Day. Until a week ago, he had anticipated showering Yuki with tokens of affection—chocolates he’d purchased in town. A haiku he’d written for her. He glared at the gaudy, red, heart-shaped box, filled with an assortment of chocolates he had intended to give to her. A plastic cupid glued to the center of a mass of pleated lace taunted him. None of the arrows in his quiver were for Nobu. He ripped the evil-looking cherub from the box and threw it on the floor, feeling only slight satisfaction when it broke in half. His heart raced and heat flashed on the back of his neck as he remembered Yuki’s answer to his invitation to the dance. “I’m sorry, Nobu-san,” she’d said, her voice trembling. “I can’t go with you.” Her words had been like a punch in the gut, but he’d replied softly. “Why? Have I done something wrong?” She wouldn’t even look at him. Like an impenetrable wall, silence hung between them, though when she finally spoke again, that wall hadn’t protected him. “I have feelings for someone else,” she said. Then she ran away. Fond memories of their time together mixed with confusion and rage, like a cyclone. He would explode if he didn’t get out of the tiny apartment. He grabbed his journal from under his mattress, threw his curtain open, and stormed past Mama. 220 JAN MORRILL “Nobu? Where are you going?” she asked. He shook his head. Sorry, Mama. Can’t answer your questions. Grabbing his jacket, he hurried out, and slammed the door behind him. At times like this, he felt like he was in a prison within a prison. Bad enough that he was living behind barbed wire. But to also be stuck in a small room with Mama and Sachi? Where he couldn’t do anything without one of them asking, “What are you doing, Nobu?” It drove him mad. He found a dry place to sit in front of the mess hall and leaned against the building. Tossing a few stones, he looked up and searched for a glimpse of sunshine through the clouds. Closing his eyes when he felt them burn, he wiped them with his sleeve and gritted his teeth. No way would he cry over a girl. He’d write instead. February 14, 1943 I thought I’d be dancing with Yuki tonight. I couldn’t wait to hold her as we swayed to the tunes of Sinatra. But when I asked her to the dance, she turned me down! Is there something wrong with me? I thought everything was going along great. Then Sachi told me about that soldier, Collins. How he’s been eyeing Yuki. Flirting with her. She said it seemed Yuki liked it. So that’s it? Yuki has feelings for Collins? A Caucasian! Hakujin! We spent so much time together in the last two months. Didn’t she have a good time at the New Year’s Eve Dance? Is there something about me she doesn’t like? Maybe the way I kissed her at midnight? No. It’s all Collins’s fault. If he hadn’t flirted, teased—probably even offered her special privileges—she’d still be with me, and in my arms tonight. The hakujins! It’s not enough they stole our lives away from us. Now they steal our women! I’d planned to give her chocolates. And the haiku I wrote for her: Sunshine fills my heart. ’Tis not light from my window, But thoughts of Yuki. Dammit! It’s been hard enough to be stuck behind this barbed wire with no control over my life. Now it’s worse—like being trapped in a tiny fish bowl, always having to look at Yuki and Collins. The Red Kimono 221 [52.207.218.95] Project MUSE (2024-03-29 01:54 GMT) He heard two men talking and looked up from his journal. A kid about Nobu’s age spoke to an older man, maybe his father. “So you think they’re going to start...