62

Yamada property * September 13, 1943

Louis knew something was wrong by the look on Ava’s face when she came and found him, and insisted he come with her to the barn.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, thinking one of the animals had taken sick.

“Just hurry,” she demanded, refusing to answer. She strode ahead of him in a near run, moving so fast that when they came up out of the orchards and the barn’s roof came into view, Louis found himself relieved to see that the barn was not on fire. He hurried to keep pace with her. Just before the barn door she drew up short and turned around to face him with a serious expression.

“I told them you would keep this quiet,” she said.

Louis only looked at her in confusion.

“I promised them you would. They’re trusting you.”

“Who are?”

“Harry and Mr. Yamada.”

Louis started.

“They’re here?”

She nodded. “They broke out of that horrible camp. Well, Harry did. He put on his Army uniform and made as though he were leaving for basic training, and then found Mr. Yamada and snuck him out.”

Louis was staggered. He didn’t understand half of what Ava had just said. He stared at the barn door, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the Yamadas were inside.

“Harry’s . . . in the Army?” was all he managed to blurt out.

“You would know as much if you ever bothered to read any of his letters or write to him the way you promised you would,” she replied.

Louis frowned, annoyed by Ava’s efforts to shame him. Of course, she didn’t know the reason Louis found it difficult to write, or what she herself had to do with it. After she’d told him about the deaths of Mae and Shizue, he had wanted to write . . . but by then too much time had passed. It felt so awkward; he had not known where to begin.

“Look,” Ava said now, “I promised them they could trust you. Was I wrong?”

“No,” Louis replied.

Ava sighed and pulled the barn door open, and Louis followed her inside.


Once his eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the barn, sure enough, there they were: Harry and Mr. Yamada. No one spoke right away; the only sound was the idle rustling of the horses, occasionally stamping their hooves or nickering. Harry and Mr. Yamada were sitting in the hay in an empty horse stall. They looked tired. From their journey? Louis wondered. It was not as if they could hop on a train or thumb a ride in a car; they must’ve had to make the trek on foot. Kenichi Yamada looked particularly drained and thinner than Louis remembered. The thought of Kenichi’s age prompted Louis to finally find his tongue.

“Is . . . is Mr. Yamada all right?” Louis asked, breaking the silence with a halting voice.

“I am fine,” Kenichi replied. He nodded his head politely.

“What . . . what are you two doing here?”

“What do you think?” Harry replied in a flat voice.

“Won’t they come looking for you?”

“I imagine they will.”

“Harry, you’ll be in serious trouble,” Louis said. Vaguely panicked, he looked at Ava. “We all will be.”

“Those camps . . .” Harry shook his head, looking down at the ground. “. . . aren’t suitable for animals. I couldn’t leave my father there and go off to war thousands of miles away to fight for the government that . . .” He faltered. “. . . has done what this government has done,” he finished.

Louis understood what Harry meant but was not saying, and relented.

“I was sorry about Mae and about your mother,” Louis said now, in a quieter voice.

Kenichi perked up, his face inscribed with fresh concern. “Did you bring them, Haruto?” he asked his son in Japanese. Harry nodded somberly.

Louis and Ava looked on with puzzlement as Harry reached into a knapsack. When they saw the two small urns, they caught on.

“We will find a place for these when the time is right,” Harry said to his father, apologetic.

“The two of you will have to stay hidden as well,” Ava said. The sight of the urns had turned the content of Harry’s letters into a terrible reality. The government had put Mae and Shizue in a camp with barbed wire and watchtowers, and now they were dead. A quiet wave of anguish, anger, and panic went through her. But for now she was resolved to address the matter of protecting the living. She turned to Harry and Kenichi.

“You can stay in the caravan. I’m sorry it’s not in better condition, but I don’t think it’ll be safe for you in the house—at least, not for a few weeks. Louis is right: The government will send someone to look for you. They’ll come here, and I doubt they’ll announce themselves before they decide to drop in.”

“No . . . that makes sense.” Harry nodded. Ava looked at Kenichi in particular. He looked so tired, so defeated.

“You deserve to be back in your own home, but that will have to wait.”

Kenichi shook his head. “Do not apologize. Your plan is wise, and we are grateful for your help in hiding us.”

“I’ll tell my mother—you can trust her, too—and we’ll pack up some things and maybe bring a few things down from the house to make you both more comfortable.”

There was a pause.

“Louis?” Harry said. “You haven’t agreed.”

“Yes,” Louis said. “Of course. It’s fine.”

Numb and dazed, he left the barn and walked back into the orchards—their orchards, he reminded himself: the Yamadas’ orchards. All of it was theirs.