“Have you lost your marbles?”
His response was not one I wanted to hear. “I’ll be leaving soon for basic training at Camp Shelby in Mississippi-”
“You can’t leave! I just got here!”
“Sis, no one told me you were coming… Anyway, the Army is putting together an all-Japanese unit called the 442nd Regimental Combat Team. I hear there’s gonna be a bunch of other Nisei from Hawaii-”
“Yori! We’re finally together! Isn’t that more important than fighting with some guys you went to high school with?”
“Sumimasenga, I’m sorry, but you never even tried to get in touch with me,” he said sternly. “Why do you suddenly care?”
“I guess I deserve that, but you’re going to fight for them after everything they’ve done to our family? After putting you in this place?”
He gave me his best big-brother you-don’t-know-squat look. “It’s our country, Sis. Don’t ever forget it.”
I loved the United States. It was my home, but inside I was so angry. So angry about everything.
He watched my face, and I could nearly hear him thinking, Too much emotion. After a long pause, he added, “You know as well as I do that Germany and Japan have to be defeated.”
He was right, of course.
“They’re going to ask you those two questions as well,” he informed me. “A word of advice. If you answer no to either of them, you’ll be labeled a no-no girl.”
“No-no girl?” My mind went to Grace and Helen. Sorrow welled in my chest. But Yori had a very different definition.
“Those who answer in the negative are taken away. They’re sent to special camps like the one where they’re keeping Mom and Pop.”
We talked awhile more. He told me that Topaz’s rules had loosened, so that now people could leave to hike, work in the nearby town, or take jobs on neighboring farms.
“We have everything and everyone here-teachers, scientists, artists, businessmen, even performers. There’s a guy, Goro Suzuki-”
“The comedian? He used to play the Sky Room in Chinatown!”
“Well, he’s gotten clearances to play clubs in Cleveland, Akron, and Chicago. He’s changed his name to Jack Soo so he’ll sound Chinese.”
I knew all about that.
“You just have to get past the loyalty oath,” he added.
After I left Yori, I walked straight to the placement office.
“How in the hell do I get out of this joint?” I asked, momentarily slipping and letting the truth of how I felt show, which was probably not the most diplomatic way to introduce myself to the man in charge.
“You can’t just arrive one day and expect to leave the next,” he huffed in response. He told me that most girls my age had to wash laundry or work in the nearby sugar beet fields. Maybe he saw me for what I was-a girl with a scrapbook past-because he gave me an inside job as a file clerk, earning sixteen dollars a month, for which I acted grateful. But, clearly, becoming a file clerk wasn’t going to work for Princess Tai.
GRACE: Good Luck, Bad Luck
I’d been home ten days, and I was just beginning to come to terms with what had happened. By the end of filming, it had been clear to everyone that I was seriously hurt. The studio had offered to take me to the hospital, but I just wanted to go home. The trip back to San Francisco was sad and lonely. I had no idea, however, that I would feel even worse when I entered my apartment. It echoed hollowly without Ruby’s vibrancy, but her presence was everywhere: a pair of shoes left helter-skelter by the bathroom door, her perfume bottles on the dresser, her robe draped over a chair. I took it all in then loaded up on aspirin and whiskey. I tried to sleep, but I hurt too much.
The next day I went to my doctor. “The physical blow rarely causes injuries. Instead, it’s what happens on your way to the floor,” he informed me, as though I hadn’t lived with that knowledge for a good part of my life. “The bruise on your jaw won’t win you any beauty contests. It’s these other injuries that are of more concern.” He gently palpated the swollen green, purple, and yellowing splotches that ran from my armpit down my side and along my left hip. He verified my fractured ribs from my encounter with the table edge and diagnosed a hematoma on my hip from my hard landing. I also had vertigo that came as a result of a slight concussion. “It looks like you’ve been down this road before, my dear. Is there anything you want to tell me? I’d like to help.” When I thanked him but said no, he sighed, advised me to rest for a month, and ordered me to drink milk to build myself up and heal my bones.
On my third day home, I received a delivery of roses and candy. The card read:
I’m sorry.
Please forgive me.
Joe
All the emotions I’d needed to push aside to deal with the events of that day-and get home-now surfaced. I cried when I thought about Joe and how he must be feeling-his guilt for hitting me and his anguish over Ruby. My sympathies for her were deeper still. If I listened to the radio and “You’re a Sap, Mr. Jap” or “We’re Going to Find a Fellow Who Is Yellow and Beat Him Red, White, and Blue” came on, I turned the music right back off and sat in silence. My closest friend was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. I gathered up her things and packed them in a trunk. I took her box of money from under her bed and hid it with mine.
I couldn’t afford to keep the apartment by myself, so on my fifth day home I invited Ida to live with me. We’d never gotten along that well, but she seemed as eager to move in with me as I originally had been to share the apartment with Ruby. A few hours later, she bumped her way into Ruby’s old room with two suitcases, a lamp, and some knickknacks. And really, Ida wasn’t so bad-small and cute, and all the boys loved her, but she still kept up with Ray Boiler, despite the warnings about him, and they made a ruckus in her room all weekend. He scared me, but she reminded me that he only visited every four weeks. The prospect was about as appealing to me as the monthly visit from Aunt Flo, but I’d tolerate his presence because I couldn’t bear to be alone.
On my eighth day, Helen visited, bringing Tommy. Our conversations ran in circles.
“Who could have done that to Ruby?” Helen asked.
“I have no idea. It just doesn’t make sense,” I replied.
“Some people can be so cruel…”
And then we were back at the beginning and not one inch closer to an answer.
This morning, my tenth day back in San Francisco, Charlie dropped by with a pot of his mother’s soup and to inquire when I’d return to work, reminding me that he’d promised a raise to anyone who got a part in a film.
In the afternoon, I received a short letter from Joe:
Dear Grace,
I will never be able to apologize enough for what I did to you, but I hope you will allow me to visit. What I need to say, I need to say in person. Will you meet me at noon on the 12th at Foster’s? Please don’t say no, although I will understand if you do.
Joe
He could have called. In fact, he could have called at any point during the last week and a half. That he hadn’t told me just how twisted up he was inside.