CHAPTER SIX

“WE MUST DEFEND TO THE END ON ALL SIDES OF JAPANESE EMPIRE, OUR FLOATING CASTLE.”

Showa 19 September 21, NHK Radio

I crossed the street and walked the short way to my front door. I began my ritual of kicking my shoes off in the entrance hall. I didn’t like to stop and put them away in a neat row. I had to be so proper all day at school, and I refused to do it at home, at least when I could help it. I shoved my book bag into the coat closet. The blackout curtains were drawn, and my eyes had to adjust to the lone glow of the shoji lamp. I walked with caution down one side of our stone-floor hallway, as the other side would still be wet from its afternoon cleaning. Aak! My right sock slid on the damp floor. I’d chosen the wrong side.

As I bent down to take off my soggy sock, I heard Papa in his study. As I drew closer, I saw that his door was slightly ajar. Through it, I saw Watanabe-san bow and thank him. She turned and almost bumped into me. I noticed her eyes were red and puffy as she bowed to me. I knew that we were supposed to say the standard “How happy we all are that her son had received this honor.” But I didn’t want to lie, so instead I just bowed.

Many families came to visit my papa to ask for help in planning their chohei pati, a celebration party to send their sons off to war. I never understood why it was called a celebration. The event was not joyful as relatives and neighbors gathered to commemorate the soldier’s life—in case he might not return home alive. My papa was very gracious and usually funded these parties. He’d also find extra rations for the party’s meal. Because Papa funded these parties, we had to attend each one in our neighborhood. I didn’t like going because they were so sad, but I had no choice.

“Hello, Papa,” I greeted him, giving him a hug.

“Joya! Welcome home. How was school?”

Seeing Watanabe-san and hearing of her son’s red card, I had almost forgotten the news about my teacher.

“Papa, Yakamura-sensei was not at school today,” I said, waiting for his reaction.

He nodded his head, then said, “I see. Well, it is for the best.”

He didn’t seem surprised. I knew he wouldn’t be as excited as I was, but I had hoped to get more of a reaction—or an explanation about his phone call yesterday. But instead, Papa changed the subject. “Joya, I am going to take my bath, and then I will do your hair on the veranda tonight.”

“Yes, Papa. I will get a piece of fruit and meet you upstairs.” Papa had to help me with my hair. Unlike Machiko or the girls in my class, my hair was dry and wiry like my cousin Genji’s. In order for it to look presentable, Papa had to brush warm oil through it then wrap it in a towel. The process took about an hour. After that, he brushed it out again and pulled it into braids. Aunt Kimiko tried to take over fixing my hair when she first moved in after her divorce, but I put up such a fuss that she never tried again.

“Yuriko-chan, is that you?” Aunt Kimiko called out from the kitchen.

“Hai.”

“I want to remind you that the Gofuku salesman will be here tomorrow afternoon. We will be ordering our special kimonos for Oshagatsu, the New Year celebration, and Sakura Hanami, the Cherry Blossom Festival. Make sure you are not late tomorrow!”

I nodded, choosing a plum from the fruit basket and rolling my eyes as I left the kitchen. Gofuku was a specialty store for kimonos. Most people went to the shop itself to buy very beautiful ready-made kimonos for the New Year or Cherry Blossom festivals. But since Papa was a prominent business owner, the storeowners came to our home instead to entice us with all the newest silk designs. I didn’t enjoy wearing kimonos because I had to be wrapped so tightly and walk with such dainty steps. But I loved looking at the bolts of pretty fabric that the sales people laid out for us when they visited.

I went upstairs and sat on the veranda to finish my plum while I waited for Papa. I put my feet up on the wicker table, something I would never try inside for fear of Aunt Kimiko yelling at me, and wiped the plum juice from my hands onto my skirt.

I noticed a scraping noise coming from our yard below. I stood on my tiptoes and leaned over the veranda’s railing. It was dusk, and my eyes strained to see clearly, but it looked as if some men were standing below, digging something with shovels.

“Konnichiwa!” I shouted. They looked up and waved, then left the yard abruptly.

“Joya, what is so interesting down there?”

I jumped. “You startled me, Papa.”

“I am sorry. I did not mean to.”

“Papa, there were some men down there digging.”

“Oh, yes. I thought I would plant more shrubs. It is getting late so I guess they will be back tomorrow to finish.”

I gave him a puzzled look. It was an odd time to be planting anything in the yard—we’d never done that this late in the season before.

I moved toward Papa so he could brush the oil through my hair. It took a long time, and tonight he wasn’t as talkative as usual.

“Is something wrong, Papa? You are so quiet tonight,” I finally asked in barely a whisper.

He sighed. “Joya, some days I am discouraged by the news I print about the war.”

“But Japan is winning the war. How can that be discouraging?” I swiveled my body so he could brush the other section of my hair.

“A few years ago I believed we were winning, but now I am not so sure,” Papa said solemnly.

I felt a chill travel up my spine to the nape of my neck. Victories were reported daily at school. I never thought that losing the war was even possible. I turned to face Papa and stammered as I asked, “So … Japan could lose?”

He pushed the bangs out of my eyes and said, “We have been fighting for seven long years. Our army supplies have been drained.” He helped twist me back around and continued to brush my hair.

“What do you mean, Papa?”

“Well, for one thing we need to build more planes but have no metal to do that with.”

I knew that we had no metal to use at school, but I hadn’t thought that the government could have also had a shortage that would stop them from manufacturing planes.

“Is that why Matsu-san came by yesterday, to collect whatever spare metal we had laying around the house?”

“I did not know she had come yesterday. Who did she speak with?”

“Aunt Kimiko. She told Matsu-san to stop by once you were at home.”

“Well, I will deal with Matsu-san later. War is not something we need to keep discussing, Joya. I want to hear about your day.” He finished wrapping my hair in a big towel. We both took a seat on the wicker bench, and put our feet up on the table.

My nerves would not be subdued. It frightened me to think our country could be on the losing side of the war. Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Papa, what would happen to us if Japan lost the war?”

“I will keep my family safe at all costs. Know this, Joya—you are my life and I will give mine to save yours.”

“Papa, do not talk that way. I do not want to be here if you are not.” I felt tears building in my eyes and leaned my head to rest on Papa’s shoulder, squeezing his hand.

He squeezed back and said, “But that is how life is, Yuriko-chan. In our lives we must experience both beginnings as well as endings. It is like the season changing after the last cherry blossom falls.”