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 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’t know when they will be reunited with his father again. I wonder. Now that Kazu is being sent to Arkansas, will his father’s letters still find him?
What kind of place is this Arkansas? Where will we live? Another horse stall? Maybe something worse? And how long will we be there before they decide to move us again?
I can only hope that Sachi will soon forget about Sam, and that I’ll forget Yuki. Then maybe things will return to normal between Sachi and me.
Nobu slapped the journal shut and left his apartment at Santa Anita for the last time. He picked up the bags and walked down the center of Row 3, past other stalls with suitcases and boxes stacked in front.
When he turned the corner, his stomach sank at the familiar sight of dozens and dozens of men, women, and children sitting and standing around boxes, bags, and luggage.
Buses rumbled outside the gate while armed guards with clipboards shuffled from family to family, making checkmarks as they passed.
He searched the crowd. Where were they? They were supposed to wait by the administration building. He looked at the face of every little girl close to Sachi’s age, but no Sachi and no Mama.
At last, Mama called from somewhere behind him. “Nobu!”
He turned to find her voice.
She ran toward him, alone, breathing hard, her skin flushed.
“Where’s Sachi?” he asked.
Mama’s brows pressed together over eyes filled with worry. “She was sitting right next to me, then she was gone.” She grabbed Nobu’s shirt. “We must find her! They just called our number to load the bus.”