Japan, 1957
There is no after-school tutoring session, so my friend Kiko and I ride home from the train station unhurried. Twisting my bicycle’s handlebars back and forth, I make serpentine tracks in the gravel as I think of Hajime, hoping he’s read my words. I stare at the red string I’ve dared to tie around my finger, then stand on my bicycle’s pedals to build speed for the hill ahead.
Kiko lags behind. I’m lost in thought, while she’s loud in silence. She’s upset with me for even considering going against my family. But how could I not?
At the top, I skid to a stop and turn. The skirt of my cotton school uniform clings to the backs of my thighs. I shake it loose and wait. Kiko takes her time pedaling and pretends not to notice my impatience. Her feet touch down to walk in the gravel. She does not stop, just passes by with tight lips and high-arched brows, like an insolent child holding her breath.
“I am aware you’re angry with me.” Sitting on the seat, I push the bike with oversize steps to catch up. “But you don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand?” She puffs a breath to free her eyes from blunt-cut bangs that settle in the same spot. “First, you date a foreigner, and I think, okay, he’s handsome, we both love everything American, so it’s fun, but now?” Kiko’s round cheeks dot red with anger as she stops to make her point.
I brake, too, braced to fight it.
“I can’t believe you want to marry Hajime despite your father’s wishes. And to tell Satoshi he is American was foolish. What if they close their account with your father’s business? Your family fortune will dry up and they won’t be able to secure another match.” She tucks her short hair behind her ears to better frame her scowl. “And you know what everyone will think.” She sniffs.
“I’m not trapping him,” I snap, and cross my arms, embarrassed.
“But that’s what people will say. That you sold out for a ticket to America like the pan-pan prostitute girls who hang out at the base.” She leans over the bicycle’s handlebars. “They may even say you’re pregnant.”
I hide my face into folded arms on the handlebars.
“Naoko?”
When I don’t say anything, she shakes my shoulder. “Tell me you’re not?”
“I’m late,” I mumble.
“What?” Her voice rings shrill. “Oh, no...” Kiko’s shock shifts to sympathy. “How far do you think? There still may be time to get rid of it and fix everything.”
I gasp. “Get rid of it? No...” I shake my head to dislodge the thought.
Kiko pedal-walks closer and almost whispers. “We could lie on the permission forms. And I have some money—I’m not sure if it’s enough. And we’d have to find a doctor who would bend the rules a little.”
“Stop, Kiko!” I push off from the ground to move the bike forward and leave her horrible words behind.
“How many cycles missed? Tell me.”
I drop my head, disappointed with my situation. The one I wouldn’t admit but can no longer deny. “If I miss this week, it’ll be three moons. Too many weeks.”
“You should have told me sooner.” Her words stipple in hurt. “I would have helped you. You would have had time. But now?”
“But nothing. I want this baby.” Twirling around to face her, I plead my truth. “I love Hajime. Does that not mean anything? And Hajime wants me.” I kick the gravel road, scattering sand and pebbles in various directions, then start pushing my bike again for home.
Kiko glides beside me on hers, buzzing like an irritated bee set to sting. “People will talk.”
“We planned to marry, anyway,” I say without glancing over. “So, that leaves the gossiping hens nothing to cluck about.” Another kick, this one raises dust along with Kiko’s ire.
“That gives them more!” She pedals faster, making sharp circles, ensnaring me in the middle. “Rumors will follow your family at every turn.”
I pivot as she circles to keep her judgmental eyes in view. Mine burn hot with tears.
“They will call you a whore, Naoko, say your family has no honor, and no one will associate with you. My family will force me to stay away. Is that what you want?”
I balk. “You know that’s not what I want.”
“No one wants half-bloods.” Kiko snorts a fast breath, coasting closer. “And no one will want you. Where will you live? Foreigners cannot own land and your family will cast you aside, so where? On the American base?”
“No.” I plant my feet because I’m losing ground. “Hajime has rented a house in Taura.” I jut my chin, determined. “We will be fine.”
She skids to a stop. “You mean in the old Eta community, don’t you?” Her eyes go wild. “Oh, Naoko, you can’t live there.”
“I know...” My heart plummets and sours in my stomach. “But maybe I won’t have to.”
I tell her the plan I put into place, how I petitioned for Okaasan to sway Father. And if that doesn’t work, how I’ll share where we would live—and because the Eta stigma would impact them, perhaps they will help us secure better housing. Even if only to save themselves.
“That is your plan?” Kiko taunts. “Hajime was intended for memory, Naoko. A secret, wonderful memory to return to one day. But if you do this, that’s what you’ll become. A memory, to all of us. Exiled. Have you worked that into your plan?” She shakes her head. “I’m not going to let you do this.”
“There is nothing to be done. I love him.”
We stare at one another.
“Then you’re a fool.” She glares tearful eyes, then pushes off.
Why must this be so difficult? If it were Satoshi’s child, everyone would claim an early blessing and rush the marriage. Touching the red yarn looped around my finger, I watch Kiko pedal away through my steady tears. Her words slice through my heart, but not my resolve. We’ve been friends since we were children, so our threads have run together side by side. We’ve never once crossed to move in different directions.
Until now.
“Naoko.”
My name is whispered from somewhere far. Who is calling? I run with outstretched fingers to sweep the wind and chase the sound. Looking around, everything fades and blurs until I focus. I am awake within my dream.
My arms rise to command the air. I am the composer, coaxing Nature’s elements to perform. At first, gentle, the indecipherable rustle of swaying branches and leaves. Then, with force, and in one gust, the foliage rips from limbs to swirl around me. Faster and faster in a mad whirlwind dance.
“Naoko, wake up.”
The voice stills the gale, and the leaves drop in unison. My eyes flutter open. Mother leans close. Her hand jostles my shoulder to shake the fog of in-between.
“Okaasan?”
“Shh, follow me now,” she whispers, then rises and pads out.
I stand and blink away my dream, while moving on tiptoes after her toward the back door.
My eyes widen to adjust as I step outside. The sleepy orange sun peeks from a thick blanket of dark, not committing to push it away, maybe irritated by our early disturbance.
“Come.” Okaasan tugs my arm, walking us along the garden’s path, away from the house.
“What is it?” My skin bumps like a plucked chicken from the cool air.
Mother stops at the wooden bench that sits to the west. I sit beside her, sensing the moment’s importance. Does she have my answer?
Her shadowed eyes lock on to mine. “Naoko, it’s good that Satoshi knows of your American and shows a compassionate heart. And now confirmed, it releases our family of future burdens. It also allows you a choice. You have two paths, but only one opportunity to select which one you will walk.” She pulls my hand between hers. “But there’s no going back. Is this clear?”
I nod, wanting to comprehend, but struggle in confusion.
She forms a soft smile. “Daughter, since you present an American military man as your intended and deny consideration of Satoshi—a good match—your father suspects a pregnancy.”
“What? Why would you think...?” My heart falls. Kiko. “She told you?”
She waves to silence the words that dangle from my lips. “Because I know my daughter and watch her appetite wane and see her sick with morning worry, I already suspected.” Her hand squeezes mine. “So then, has the bloom remained on the branch? Or is the pregnancy Kiko spoke of possible? Now, I am asking for your courage to answer with truth.”
Not wanting to admit the shared intimacies of marriage, my chin drops, and I look away humiliated. My silence is answer enough.
Again, her slender fingers, wrapped around mine, squeeze. “Your father won’t accept Hajime, with or without a baby, daughter. And Satoshi cannot accept you as a match if your womb grows another man’s seed. There’s a midwife Grandmother can contact who can confirm either way and, if you are, can deal with such a thing in discretion.”
I glance up to absorb the meaning of her words. “Okaasan, no...”
Her eyes soften. “Satoshi still wants this match if you do, Naoko, as does your father. It’s still possible. Do you understand?”
“I understand both sides of the coin contain sorrow.” My shoulders fall and I lean onto Mother. Her hand runs through my hair from crown to tip in slow, comforting strokes. The sun no longer fights its slumber. With a deliberate stretch, it drags fingers of light dipped in orange across the gray-blue sky.
Okaasan sighs. “When I was a young girl, no older than Kenji, I tried to trick my mother. She was not so different than Obaachan—stubborn and opinionated. Determined to show her up with a clever riddle, I pretended to hold an imaginary bird behind my back. I asked her, ‘Is the bird I have hidden alive or dead? What is your answer?’ I grinned, so proud, knowing I couldn’t lose. If she replied, ‘Dead,’ I would act as though I set it free, so it would fly away before her eyes. If she said, ‘Alive,’ I would feign a small squeeze to snap its little neck.
“I watched my mother consider my puzzle, and I repeated my question, ready to bask in my moment. ‘What is the answer? Is the bird alive or dead?’ My mother’s chin lifted. She smiled and said, ‘The answer is in your hands.’”
There’s a pause while the meaning sinks in.
“So, this is what I say to you. The answer, daughter, is in your hands. You choose baby bird’s destiny, and your own, by what you do now. Right now.”
Okaasan places a hand on both of my shoulders and speaks in a somber tone. “Have the morning meal and prepare for school just as always. Then, as you leave, understand this. At the bottom of the hill, within the trees, I have hidden a small suitcase for you behind the old stump. You know where?”
I nod, straining to listen over the thumping of my heart.
“If you choose Hajime and the possibility of his baby, then take the bag. Go to him. Do not ever come back or we will all suffer for it.” Her eyes glisten with moisture. “If you choose Satoshi, then go to school, come home and prepare for the wedding. Grandmother and I will make arrangements with the midwife to confirm the womb is clean...and clean it if it is not.” She leans closer. “But you must never breathe Hajime’s name again. Not even as a whisper.”
Salty tears fall one after the other and rest near my lips. Panic bubbles up to burn my throat and nose. “How do I know which path? How do I know, Okaasan?”
“To pick the correct one is fate. To pick the wrong one is also fate. So, you must choose your love, and be prepared to love your choice.” With her thumbs, she wipes under my eyes, then holds my cheeks. “At day’s end, if you return to me, I’ll embrace you with all my love. But, if at day’s end, should you not return...” A sharp intake of breath swallows her words.
I feel my own stagger in my lungs.
“If you should not return, my love is as your shadow, unshakable and always behind you.”
My lips purse. Okaasan pulls me to her; one arm wraps me tight, while her other hand frantically strokes my hair. She kisses my forehead, the top of my head, then one cheek, then the other and then...no more.
No more.
My mother loosens her hold and sits back. She doesn’t look at me again. Only stares ahead with glossy eyes that have gone blank. Standing, she forces a long breath. “This day has begun, Naoko. The bird is in your hands.”