Nobu
Thanksgiving Day, 1942
“I’ll be back in time to take you to the mess hall for lunch,” Nobu said as he buttoned his jacket.
“Be sure to get back before eleven, so we can leave early,” said Sachi. “It’ll probably be pretty crowded today, with everyone looking forward to turkey.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back in plenty of time.” He shut the door behind him and hurried down the steps. Every time he left Mama in that dark room, it felt like an escape. He knew she was unhappy; she still missed Papa. But heck, it was the same for him, yet he didn’t spend all his time locked up in that dark room.
And what about the way she took it out on Sachi? He wasn’t happy about being in camp for Thanksgiving either, but why let their sour attitudes spoil it for his little sister? What could he say to Mama to change her? Nothing.
Skimming close to the barracks to block wind that whipped through the row, he jogged to Block 20 to find Kazu. He landed in one puddle as he tried to miss another. Water splashed up, soaking cold into his pant leg.
He was sick of scavenging for wood, even if it did mean the guards would let them out into the forest to pick up limbs and cut small trees. Anyway, now that the wood piles in camp had been picked clean, what were they going to do? Let everyone freeze to death? Besides, it was a good excuse to escape from Mama and Sachi. It wouldn’t be so bad with Kazu along.
He knocked on Kazu’s door. Mrs. Sasaki peeked from behind the yellow-flowered curtain. She smiled and nodded at Nobu, then opened the door. An aroma of sweet potatoes wafted from behind her. Happy memories filled him like turkey and stuffing at the holiday meal, but in an instant, the fullness of those memories was replaced by hunger. This Thanksgiving would not compare to those he remembered so fondly.
“Ah, Nobu,” she said, her dark eyes crinkling in a smile. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
How he admired Kazu’s mother, that she could give him such a warm greeting on a day of thanks, though still separated from her husband. How could she be so forgiving? Even he hadn’t overcome the anger he’d felt that day the government men took Reverend Sasaki from his home in California.
He couldn’t help compare her to Mama. Why couldn’t his mother pick herself up like Kazu’s mother had? Get on with her life? The answer hit him like a gust of cold wind and he scolded himself. Reverend Sasaki was alive. Mrs. Sasaki could hope to see him again one day. Papa was dead. No such hope for Mama.
“Nobu? Would you like to come inside?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sasaki. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. Is Kazu home?”
“Yes. He is helping me prepare our Thanksgiving meal. Come in. Please.” She opened the door wider and stepped aside.
“Hi, Nobu.” Kazu was wiping his hands on a dish towel. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going out to get some wood. Want to come?” He noticed firewood, neatly stacked against the wall.
“No. Did that yesterday. Besides, I told my mom I’d help her with dinner today. She’s invited a few friends over. Hey, what’s your family got planned?”
Nobu bent over to sniff the sweet potatoes and tried to think of a way to dress up his reply. “I told Mama and Sachi I’d be back in time to pick them up for the festivities at lunch. Sachi’s pretty excited.” He was embarrassed his family had nothing better planned for the day.
“Well, if you get the chance, stop by. Everyone’s bringing something, so we’ll have plenty.”
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll let Mama know. Guess I’d better get going if I’m going to get back in time for lunch.” He gave a slight bow to Kazu’s mother. “Nice to see you, Mrs. Sasaki. Have a happy Thanksgiving.”
She nodded and smiled. “You too, Nobu. Please give my best to your mother and sister.”
What was it about leaving Kazu and his mother that left him feeling lonelier, emptier? You’d think the warmth in the room would bring him comfort, and it did while he was there. But as soon as he walked out, the wind felt colder, howled louder. He pulled up his collar and put his hands in his pockets, wishing he hadn’t volunteered to gather wood.
He stopped by the guard shack at the gate to sign out.
“Where are you going on Thanksgiving Day?” asked the young soldier. The tag stenciled on his shirt read “Collins.”
Nobu looked up from the book he signed, surprised by the soldier’s friendly tone. “Have to get some wood before my mother and sister freeze to death,” he said, half-joking.
“You’re not the only one. There’ve been about a dozen people leave camp today to find wood. Maybe we’ll get some delivered to camp before long.”
Nobu struggled to keep his sarcasm in check. “Yeah, maybe.”
The soldier grinned. “Anyway, be sure to get back in time for the Thanksgiving meal at lunchtime.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve been reminded plenty by my little sister. See you.”
Collins waved. “Yep. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Something about walking outside the gates made him feel strange. One minute he felt free, a part of the huge world outside camp. And the next minute, he was afraid of that very same world. Unguarded. The word gave him two completely different sensations. Freedom and apprehension. What would happen to the Japanese when they finally left camp for good and there were no guards to protect them from the world outside?
A gust of wind shoved him toward the forest. Leaves raced ahead of him.
Run. Run. Follow us away from this place.
He entered the woods—a quiet place a world away from camp. When his feet touched the sun-mottled ground, the moaning wind turned to whispers through the boughs of the trees. Holding his breath, he stopped to listen. He listened to the sound of leaves and twigs crackling beneath his feet. Then, he stopped again to listen to the wind.
Crackle.
What was that? He turned in the direction of the sound. Someone else was in the forest. But who? Where? Trees with scraggly branches reached toward the sky, skeleton arms, and he couldn’t help thinking about the hunters who had taken him prisoner the month before.
Maybe it was only the leaves, rustling on the ground.
He searched the ground for kindling, but the area near the edge had been well-picked of usable branches. He’d have to walk further into the canopy to find anything worth burning.
Crackle, crackle.
His heart skipped a beat. Someone was definitely there with him.
Not another hunter!
“Who’s there?” he called.
Silence.
Turning in a slow circle, he watched for movement. “I know you’re there. You might as well come out.”
Something whipped behind a tree trunk.
“Okay, I see you there. Come on out.”
The hidden intruder inched from behind the tree.
Yuki?
He wiped his loafer on the back of his pant leg and smoothed his hair back.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, staring at the ground. “I was gathering wood for my family, and heard your footsteps. I wasn’t sure who you might be, so I hid.” A faint smile curved between cheeks rosied by the cold. “Then, when I saw it was you, I was too embarrassed to come out.”
Nobu walked toward her.
Her gaze moved from the ground to his face, then darted to the ground again. She shuffled her oxfords in the leaves and smiled bigger.
“You’re Yuki, right?”
Her head tilted and a tiny gasp escaped her smile. “How do you know my name?”
That was dumb. Now she’d know he’d been interested in her. “Uh, my friend, Kazu, knows you. He told me your name when we were all at Santa Anita together.”
“You were at Santa Anita, too?”
Damn. He was sure Kazu told him she’d stared at him that day in the mess hall. Had he made it up? His knees felt weak. “Yes. But we’ve been here at Rohwer since September. When did you get here?”
“We’ve been here since October. It’s very different from California, isn’t it?”
“Very,” he said, reluctantly taking his gaze from her and staring up at the tall trees. But it will be a lot better with you here. He wiped his hand on his jeans pocket before extending it toward her. “My name is Nobu. Nobu Kimura.”
She bowed slightly and gave him her hand.
At her touch, something warm surged through his body—the feel of her soft hand in his. He squeezed, a reflex.
A soft giggle—a purr—escaped her playful smile. “Nice to officially meet you, Nobu-san.”
The lilt in her voice made his heart race. He let go of her hand, crossed his arms and studied her, until he realized he was staring. Then, he tore his gaze away to find something else to look at.
How strange she made him feel. One minute, like the strongest man in the world. The next, a weak and vulnerable boy.
“What are you doing in the woods by yourself?” he asked. Was that too protective? Or worse, possessive? “I mean, I don’t know if it’s safe around here. A few weeks ago, I ran into some local hunters. They thought I was a Japanese spy.”
Her eyes widened. “A spy?”
“Yeah,” he replied, puffing his chest.
She stepped toward the deeper woods, scanning the ground. “Well, my father has the flu, so he’s too sick to gather wood.” She glanced at Nobu with flirty eyes. “And I don’t have a big, strong brother to do the man’s work. Mother said she was cold, so that left me to gather some wood.” She knelt to pick up a stick and placed it in the large bag she carried.
He reached for it, touching her shoulder. So delicate, he wanted to linger there. “Here, let me carry that for you.”
“Thank you, Nobu.”
The farther they walked into the forest, the more alone with her he felt, and the stronger his urge to be close to her. To smell her skin, her hair.
The wind brushed his face. He wanted to feel her touch.
Stop thinking those things. You’ve only just met her.
An uncomfortable silence walked with them, like an unwanted chaperone. Struggling to hold back such strong and true feelings, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Yuki spoke. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
At last, a safe topic. “I have an older brother, Taro. He’s with the 100th Infantry Battalion. Then, there’s Sachi, my little sister.”
“You’re lucky. I often wish I had a brother or sister. It’s hard being the only child. Especially in camp. Mother and Father have very high expectations.” She pulled at her sweater and folded her arms across her chest.
“Are you cold?” He tossed the bag to the ground and removed his jacket.
“Just a little.”
He placed his coat over her shoulders and wanted to leave his arm to rest there. But he thought better of it, and knelt to pick up another branch. “Yuki, anytime you need help with something a brother might do, let me know.”
She stopped and turned to him, bowing slightly. “Thank you, Nobu-san. Then, you will be like a brother to me?”
A tingly, uncertain feeling struck him in the gut. Was that mischief sparkling in her eyes? “Well … ,”—he laughed, a little too goofy, a little too loud—“maybe not your brother.”
She touched his arm as she placed a handful of twigs in the bag. “I was teasing, silly.”
They walked and talked, shared laughter and a few moments of awkward silence. Nobu moved close to her, then away again, like an accordion, unable to find just the right note.
When, the bag was full, crammed with branches and twigs, he wondered how much time had passed. All he knew was it had flown too quickly.
“I should probably get home before my parents begin to worry,” Yuki said.
Panic set in. When would he see her again? Should he ask her to Thanksgiving lunch? No, too soon for that. When they turned in the direction of the camp, he wasn’t sure what pulsed faster—his pounding heart or the rampant thoughts in his head. When? Think!
They walked from the woods, into the bright light of day. She was even prettier in the sunlight, where her black hair glistened and the blush in her cheeks brightened. He tried not to stare. His hands sweated again.
“Thank you for helping me gather wood,” she said.
There! The excuse to see her again. “I’ll help you again tomorrow.”
She laughed. “I don’t think we’ll use all of this today. But maybe in a day or two?”
“Sure. Any time. Would you like me to check with you day after tomorrow?”
“That would be nice. We live in Block 20, three doors down from Kazu.”
Jealousy prickled at him. How’d Kazu get so lucky?
When they arrived at the gate, Private Collins greeted them with a broad smile. “Hello, Yuki. How’d it go, collecting wood?” His blue eyes lingered on her too long.
Now jealousy stung. Interrupting their interlude, Nobu showed the bag of wood to Collins. “We gathered all of this together. In a day or so, I’ll help her gather more.”
She’s mine.
Collins smiled at Nobu. “That’s good of you, man.” He pushed a clipboard toward them. “You two want to sign back in?”
Nobu kept his eye on Collins as Yuki signed first. He signed next, and the two walked through the gate together. He thought about putting his arm over her shoulder—show that guy Collins she was his. But he didn’t want to startle her. He casually moved closer to her instead.
“You two have a nice Thanksgiving,” Collins called.
Yuki turned around and waved. “You, too, Private Collins.”
Obliged, Nobu waved, without turning. “Yeah. You, too.”
Yuki reached to take the bag from Nobu. “I can take that now.”
“No, it’s heavy. I’ll carry it to your apartment for you.”
He felt out of control. His lingering jealousy was so consuming it left room only for the misery of leaving her.
Gusts of wind whipped around them as they strolled through the rows of barracks.
“Oh!” she cried.
Her skirt blew up over her knees, briefly exposing her thighs. The most beautiful patch of skin he’d ever seen.
When she clutched the pleats of her skirt and pushed it back down, Nobu’s jacket fell from her shoulders. Her cheeks blushed bright red when she knelt to pick it up. “I’m so sorry,” she said, returning the jacket with one hand and holding her skirt with the other. “I can wash it for you.”
He took the jacket. “It’s okay.” He smiled, but inside chided himself for his thoughts. A dirty jacket had certainly been worth the view of her lovely legs.
“Here we are,” she said, facing him.
He searched her eyes for any sign of the same disappointment he felt at parting.
“Shall I take the bag now?” she asked.
Such a pretty smile.
He took the strap from his shoulder and gently placed it over hers. “You sure you don’t want me to carry it inside for you?”
At once, her smile disappeared. Her eyes flashed. “No, I’ll do it.” She touched his arm. “But thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” A magnet to her metal, he couldn’t tear himself away.
Watch it. You’re making a fool of yourself.
Stepping away, she whispered, “I’d better go in now.”
“Right. I’ll see you in a few days, then. Bye for now, Yuki-san.” He watched her go inside and shut the door.
He shook his jacket before putting it on, and grinned at the memory of what he’d seen when it fell from Yuki’s shoulders. On second thought, maybe he’d leave a little dirt on the jacket as a reminder.
He headed in the direction of home, but stopped in his tracks. Damn! What was he thinking? He had no wood of his own. Mama would be full of questions. For that matter, so would Sachi.
Desperate for a solution, his mind raced with possible answers: He’d stayed to help Kazu with their Thanksgiving dinner. Maybe he had stopped by the mess hall to see what was for lunch. Neither of those stupid answers would satisfy Mama.
He had to find wood. Somewhere.
He jogged through row after row, frantically searching for anything that would burn. Time was running out. People were already walking to the mess hall for lunch.
A few stoops had wood piles neatly stacked beside them. He could “borrow” some—nobody would notice one or two missing pieces. But he couldn’t bring himself to steal from his neighbors, even to cover up his own lovesick foolishness.
There. The answer to his problem. Next to the administration building, a mountain of scrap lumber was piled near stacked two-by-fours used to build new barracks. Who would miss a few scraps?
Casually strolling by, he peeked through the windows of the building. Vacated for the holiday. One more quick glance around for anyone who might see. No one in sight, so he quickly gathered all he could shove inside his jacket. At least it would last the day.
He scurried home, feeling like a thief, sneaky and wicked. But this was survival. Damn government had no problem keeping the camp stocked with lumber for barracks for new internees. Why couldn’t they keep the place stocked with wood to keep the internees warm?
As he put his hand on the doorknob of their apartment, the door flew open.
Sachi stood on the other side, eyes flaring. “It’s about time you got home. Where have you been?”