Nobu
March 15, 1943
The silence had been long and lonely since the day Nobu received notice that he would be transferred back to California. All those who had answered “no” to Question 27 and Question 28 were being sent to a maximum-security segregation camp called Tule Lake. He had known there would be consequences for the way he had answered, but he had no idea he would be sent away, separated from his family.
He studied Mama from across the room, trying to determine her mood before approaching to sit next to her. Her rigid posture and expressionless face definitely read anger. But her attempt to wipe tears from her cheeks before they were discovered was futile. She couldn’t mask her sadness.
Sachi sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her feet as she swung them back and forth. No mistaking her mood. Only sadness there.
The previous night, he had tossed and turned with alternating waves of guilt and determination; guilt that he wouldn’t be at Rohwer to take care of Mama and Sachi, determination that he could not have answered the questions any other way.
When he’d received his transfer orders, Sachi had begun to sob and asked, “Can’t you change your answers so you can stay with us?”
Her question broke his heart. “I’m sorry, Sach. They won’t let me change them.” But he also bit his lip. I wouldn’t change my answers even if I could.
Sachi would understand one day. But Mama was a different story. He had no idea what to say to her, how to respond to her anger and grief. Her shame.
It didn’t matter anymore. The silence was killing him. He had to say something.
“Mama, talk to me,” he said, maneuvering toward where she sat.
Her gaze remained fixed on the blank wall across the room.
He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. “What are you thinking?”
At last, she spoke, though she still stared at the wall. “How could you have answered as a disloyal?”
Disloyal. The word was a flashpoint. A trigger for a barrage of angry words. He stood up and pounded the table.
Sachi stopped swinging her legs and gasped.
Mama’s eyes widened with surprise.
“I am not disloyal!” he yelled. “It is America that has been disloyal!”
Seeing Mama’s eyes fill with tears, he sat again and took a deep breath.
Calm down. Is this how you want to spend your last hours with Mama and Sachi?
His voice softened. “Don’t you see, Mama? How else could I answer? If I’d answered ‘yes,’ they might have sent me off to war. I’m sorry. I refuse to fight for a country that could do this to us.”
Her eyes grew cold. “But they’re sending you away anyway, are they not? You could have lied. At least you would not be called a disloyal. And you would not have brought dishonor to this family.”
Lie? To keep from bringing dishonor to our family?
Mama’s words hit like an unexpected blow. His throat clutched as his mind filled so swiftly with a mix of emotions that he couldn’t gather his thoughts to respond. Anger. Hurt. Isolation. Regret. Pride. All fought for space in his head. Anything he said would be hurtful. He was silent as he rose from the chair.
Mama looked up. “Where are you going?”
“To pack,” he replied and walked to his room.
His tiny space. Only a corner separated by a curtain. What would the camp at Tule Lake be like? He didn’t care if it was larger, but more privacy would be nice. Maybe a window. Of course, it could be a jail cell for all he knew, the way they talked about the No-No Boys being disloyal.
A green canvas duffle bag lay open on his bed, its gape awaiting the stack of books, crumpled clothes, and pair of shoes that surrounded it. But Nobu didn’t feel like packing. Instead, he found his journal and shoved everything else off the bed.
March 15, 1943
Part of me is happy to be getting away from here. I need some breathing space. This apartment is too small for the three of us, especially when Mama is angry. She’s angry a lot these days. I guess I don’t blame her. I think her anger comes from fear. Fear of what lies ahead for me, and fear of what lies ahead for her after I’m gone. First Taro left for Hawaii, then Papa was killed, and now I am leaving for Tule Lake. She will be left on her own to take care of Sachi.
I’m scared, too, but I can’t show it, especially in front of Mama and Sachi. I have no idea what waits for me. As long as we comply with their rules, behave as people who accept this life they cast upon us, we are left to live our miserable lives behind barbed wire. But now that some of us have issued our protests by answering “no” to Questions 27 and 28, look how we are treated—shipped off to maximum security as disloyal. They’re even talking about sending us back to Japan! I’ve never even been to Japan. Hell, I barely speak Japanese.
Scared? Yeah, I’m scared.
It’s been weird between Kazu and me. He told me he couldn’t answer “no,” even though a part of him wanted to. Said he couldn’t do that to his mother. I don’t understand him, and I can tell by the look in his eyes, he doesn’t understand me. How could he swear allegiance to a country that took his father away? No matter. Kazu will stay, maybe be sent off to war. I will go to Tule Lake, disgraced in my mother’s eyes.
“Nobu?” Sachi’s face appeared around his curtain, her eyes puffy and red.
He set his journal aside. “Come here,” he said, extending his hand.
She sat next to him and buried her face on his shoulder.
“What is it, Sach?”
Her response came in sniffles and gurgles. She attempted to hide her tears, but he felt their wet warmth soak his shirt.
He nudged her again. “You want to talk about it?”
Finally, she whispered, “Please don’t leave me here alone. Can’t I come with you?”
The question startled him. Come with him? He hadn’t thought of that. Would she be better off staying with Mama, or coming with him? It was a difficult question to answer. Too many unknowns about the camp in Tule Lake.
“Nobu? Did you hear me? Can I come with you?”
He took a deep breath, hoping the answer would come by the time he exhaled. “I would love for you to come with me …”
She perked up and smiled. “Really?”
“No, wait Sach. I was saying I’d love for you to come, but you can’t.”
She buried her head in his shoulder again.
“I have no idea what the new camp will be like. And Mama needs you here. Besides, you and Jubie have become such good friends, you don’t want to leave her, do you?”
She straightened and looked at him, aghast. “Jubie?”
Stifling a laugh, he replied, “Yes, I know about you and Jubie. You’re not very good at hiding things.”
“Does Mama know?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t tell her, anyway.”
“Because if Mama ever found out and said I couldn’t play with her again, I think I’d run away.”
“Be careful then,” he said.
There wasn’t much more to say in the few minutes they had. Or, maybe there was too much to say. After a short silence, Nobu spoke. “I guess I’d better finish packing.”
She started crying again and hugged him. “I’m going to miss you so much. What am I going to do when you’re gone? Mama is so quiet, and when we do talk, it’s like she’s angry with me.”
He tugged at her ponytail. “Be patient with her. She’s been through a lot, and she bears the burden of what is to become of all of us when we leave camp.” He tickled her ribs. “Okay. Let me have a few minutes to finish packing, then you can walk me to the gate.”
She slumped and pouted, lingering at the edge of his bed.
He knew what would cheer her. “Hey, you know what?”
“What?” she replied, eyes brightening.
“There’s one good thing about me leaving.”
She deflated and rolled her eyes. “What?”
“You can have my room—a room of your own!”
She perked up. “Oh, boy—” she exclaimed, then slumped again. “But I’d still sleep with Mama if it meant having you here.”
“I know, Sach. But try to look at the bright side. You’ve wanted your own room since we left Berkeley. Now come on.” He gave her a shove. “I need to finish packing.”
“Okay, okay,” she mumbled and shuffled out of his room.
A few more lines to add in the day’s entry, then he’d have to hurry.
I didn’t realize it before now, but it’s Sachi I’ll miss most of all. Yeah, the squirt gets on my nerves, but it won’t be the same not seeing that spark of mischief in her eyes. I see her growing up a little every day, forming a mind of her own. How will she have changed when I see her again? And who knows when that will be? I need from her what I will not have at Tule Lake, her resilience—an antidote to my callous shell that thickens every day.
So much in life we take for granted. Then, it’s gone.
He tossed the journal into the canvas bag, then piled his other scattered belongings on top, and zipped it up. Taking a last look around his room—the blank walls, the bed he’d made neatly for Sachi, the curtain that had been his barrier from the outside world—he decided home was a relative place. He had hated his little curtained corner when they first arrived. But now that he faced the uncertainty of the camp in California, he felt like he was being ripped from home all over again.