Nobu
November 10, 1945
“Here’s your mail,” Ichiro said, tossing a letter onto the table in front of Nobu.
As soon as Nobu saw it was from Papa, he tore it open. A year and a half since Papa had shown up alive in Rohwer, and still, he couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t seen Papa yet, though he wondered about him constantly. What did he look like? Had he changed in all the years since Nobu had seen him? Would Papa think Nobu had changed?
He unfolded the letter and devoured the words like a man so hungry he hardly takes time to taste the food placed in front of him.
Staying in Arkansas. He had to read it again. Staying in Arkansas. Surely that’s not what Papa meant.
Worse, was reading what Papa said next. Mama is returning to Japan. How could that be? Why? And how could Papa let her do that?
I cannot stop her. She still has not heard from her parents and says she must return to Japan to find out what happened. I am torn. I do not want to let Mama go alone, yet I cannot go with her. I must stay for you, Sachi, and Taro. You are Americans. I cannot expect you to go to Japan.
He crumpled the letter and threw it across the room.
“What’s up?” Ichiro asked.
“My mother is returning to Japan and my father has decided to stay in Arkansas. My family will be separated, even after we leave camp.”
“Your mother is wise to return to Japan—”
“Hey! It’s not for the same reason you’re going. Her parents lived in Hiroshima. She hasn’t heard from them since the bombing.”
“As far as I’m concerned, the reason doesn’t matter. There will be nothing for us here. But, why is your father staying in Arkansas of all places?”
Nobu’s leg started bouncing up and down—a bad habit he’d picked up from Ichiro. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “He doesn’t believe the hatred toward the Japanese has changed in California. And he doesn’t think he can get a job here.” Unable to sit still, Nobu had to get up. He paced around the table, stooped to pick up the letter, then read it to Ichiro.
The owner of a cotton plantation near Little Rock has asked me to be his foreman. I have accepted his offer, Nobu. Sachi can attend school in Little Rock. I would like for you to come back and work with me. Perhaps when Taro returns, he will come, too. It has been far too long since you children have all been together.
Ichiro slapped Nobu’s back. “Come to Japan with me then. Your mother would be happy to have you there.”
The suggestion punched Nobu in the gut and the battle in his head began again. Japan? Maybe. What did he owe America, anyway? He was miserable and disappointed in his country. So why the reluctance to leave? He was born an American. It was all he knew. He was not Japanese, and knew so little of the country that attacked Pearl Harbor.
Maybe he only wanted to stay because he was afraid. He could barely admit to himself that he might be such a chicken shit he’d stay in a country he hated. How could he admit it to Ichiro?
So what about Arkansas? Papa? No. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning to that place.
He walked to the window and watched dust swirl in the wind. “I’m staying in California. I’ll start over here if I have to. There’s nothing for me in Arkansas or Japan.”
“Fine. Have it your way. I’m leaving for drills,” Ichiro said, tying a hachimaki around his forehead. “You coming?”
“You go ahead. I need to reply to my father. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Ichiro grabbed his jacket off the chair. “Right. See you later,” he said, then rushed out the door.
For several minutes, Nobu sat in the empty apartment. He had to reply to Papa, but didn’t know what to say. He tore a sheet of paper from a notebook, wishing to empty his mind of thoughts that flooded it. There was so much he wanted to say, but he knew to temper his words.
He stared at the white void for several minutes before beginning to write.
November 10, 1945
Dear Papa,
I received your letter today. It still feels strange to hold something from you in my hand. Thinking you were dead for so long, sometimes I’m afraid I’ll wake to find your return has all been a dream.
What next? Chewing on his pencil, he wondered if he should let Papa know how unhappy he was to read the plans he’d written about. Should he show respect and accept it? That didn’t make sense if in the end, he planned to tell Papa he refused to join him there to become a farmer. He placed his pencil on the page again.
Papa, it surprised me that you and Mama have made separate plans. I understand that you are torn, but it’s hard for me to believe Mama is returning to Japan and you have decided to stay in Arkansas. It never entered my mind that you, Mama, and Sachi would not return to California.
Struggling with how to tell Papa about his plans to stay in California, he walked to the window again and stared outside. His No-No brothers approached from the far end of the barrack row, again marching in formation. Their shouting pulsed through him.
Wah-shoi! Wah-shoi!
He called himself koshinuke—coward. Why couldn’t he stand up to Papa for once?
Slamming into the chair again, he let anger pump courage through his hand, to his pencil and onto paper.
After I leave Tule Lake, I will stay in California. I had hoped to see you after my release, but there are only bad memories for me in Arkansas. I understand Mama wanting to return to Japan to find her parents, but I can’t understand your decision to remain in Arkansas rather than return to California to fight for the life we had before the war.
Snatching the crumpled letter off the table, Nobu read Papa’s closing words.
Mama is not happy with my decision to stay, and I suspect you will not be either, my son. But shikata ga nai. It cannot be helped. I will do what I must do.
Nobu bit his lip and pounded his fist on the table. He grabbed the pencil and continued his letter.
Papa, you may say shikata ga nai, but I believe everything in our lives can be helped. We can—we must—control our own destinies. Never again will I be carried by a stream that flows in a direction I do not choose to go. Instead, I will 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.”