The Red Kimono: A Novel

70. Sachi

fight, swim upstream if I must. To hell with those in California who still hate us. Shikata ga nai? No. That is the coward’s way. Your son, Nobu Regret threatened to make him tear the letter to pieces. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so harsh. Papa was only doing what he believed to be best for his family. Wah-shoi! Wah-shoi! The No-No Boys of Tule Lake marched past his doorway. He scribbled Papa’s address on the envelope, then grabbed his coat, and ran out the door, ready to join the formation. Slamming the door behind him, he called, “Wait up! I’m coming.” CHAPTER 70 Sachi NOVEMBER 14, 1945 “Sachiko, come here, please,” Mama called from the living room. Sachi rolled her eyes. What now? She closed the book she’d been reading and tossed it on the bed. “I’m coming.” She huffed and threw aside the curtain that divided her room. Her mother sat at the table, staring at the o-juzu beads she held in her hands. Everything about her—sad eyes framed by dark circles, drooped shoulders—told Sachi this was not a conversation she wanted to have. “Yes?” Sachi replied and pulled out a chair. Mama looked up from her beads and stared at her for a moment, then brought the hand that held the o-juzu to touch Sachi’s cheek. Mama’s affection felt unfamiliar. Sachi had the urge to back away and to cry. She knew what Mama was going to say. She was going to tell Sachi about going to Japan. What if she insisted Sachi go with her? Fear surged as she thought of a thousand excuses not to go. How could she The Red Kimono 297 tell Mama she didn’t want to—wouldn’t go with her? She wanted to stay in Arkansas with Papa. But how could she not want to be with her own mother? “This is a very small apartment,” Mama said. “The only wall separating your room from this one is a thin curtain. So perhaps you already know what I am going to tell you.” She ran her hand over Sachi’s hair. “It may be difficult for you to hear this, Sachi-chan, but I think you are old enough to understand these things now.” Old enough? Words she had longed to hear. She smiled, and the tear she had fought fell down her cheek. Mama wiped it away. “Do you disagree?” “No, I want to know. I’m old enough to understand, whatever it is.” She felt a little afraid. But wondering about something was worse than knowing the truth. “Good.” Mama twisted the beads in her hands. The room was quiet. Sachi listened for sounds to fill the uncomfortable silence: wind rattling the window panes; muffled sounds from the family next door. She waited for Mama’s next words. She didn’t want to stare, afraid it might make Mama too nervous to continue, so she scanned the room for something else to look at. Papa’s slippers under the bed. His folded newspaper on the nightstand. “You never met my parents, your ojiisan and obaasan. You have only seen pictures and letters from them. I am very sorry about that. Especially now.” Trying to settle the leg that refused to hold still, Sachi shifted and sat on it. “I’m sorry, Mama. I heard people talking about the bombings in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.” She looked down at her lap, wanting so terribly to touch Mama’s hand, but not able to bring herself to do it. “I’m sorry you don’t know how they are.” She looked up and smiled. “But sometimes, no news is good news, right?” Mama smiled slightly, but her eyes watered. “Perhaps. But I think wondering is worse than knowing what really happened.” Sachi couldn’t believe it. Without hesitation, she touched her mother’s hand. “I just thought that very thing.” “Then, you will understand that I must return to Japan to find out.” Sachi cringed and sat back in her chair, waiting for the words she dreaded. 298 JAN MORRILL Please don’t ask me to come with you. Mama covered her face with her hands. When she finally placed them on her lap, her eyes were red. She spoke quickly. “I have missed my mother and father for so many years, Sachi-chan...