“Sure, you could come,” Mariko said. “But you’d want to find a job that you really want to do, or you wouldn’t like it and you wouldn’t be happy. I could help you find one. There’s every job you could imagine in New York City. You just need to figure out what you like and what you’re good at.”
A breeze kicked up around us, fluttering the pages of Calista’s fictional world. I liked the idea of going to New York City with Mariko and finding out what I was good at, what I liked. I found myself in that moment crazily wishing the war would last for three more years so that we’d still be together in Crystal City when we turned eighteen, and we could go to New York City, just the way Mariko had described it.
The hot afternoon had suddenly disappeared, and dusk was now starting to fall. “I need to get home for the roll call.” Mariko picked up the notebook and stood. I rose to my feet as well.
I wanted to say that I was hoping things would be okay at her house that night. But I knew they wouldn’t be. I was already picturing Tomeo and his father going at it again at dinner. I was also hoping Tomeo had cooled off and would return home in time for the roll call. I didn’t want him getting in trouble when he was so close to being released. And I was already afraid for him joining the army, where men were getting shot and blown to pieces. I wanted to ask Mariko if she was afraid for him, too. But I didn’t know how to find the right words for any of these thoughts. So I just told her I would see her tomorrow and that maybe we could go swimming at the pool, which was finally finished, in the late morning before the masses of other internees showed up in the later and hotter part of the day.
“Sure,” Mariko said.
That night at supper I told my parents what Tomeo Inoue wanted to do. Papa seemed thoughtful as I talked, and he chewed his food as though he was imagining what his response would be if Max were Tomeo’s age and had announced that he wanted to fight against Germany.
“Well, we each of us have to do what we think is right,” Papa finally said. “Tomeo surely believes this is the right thing for him to do.”
“But Mr. Inoue was so very angry with him, Papa. He was screaming at Tomeo.” I was still bothered by the tone Kenji used with his son. It was as if he did not care for him anymore.
Mommi said something under her breath that I couldn’t hear but Papa did. “Yes, but honor is very important to them, Freda. It’s different for them than it is for us,” Papa said to my mother. Then he turned to me. “I’m sure Mr. Inoue and Tomeo will find a way to work this out.”
But that is not what happened. When I walked over to Mariko’s the next morning at ten thirty, wearing my swimsuit under a cotton shift, many long seconds went by before anyone answered my knock. Mariko opened the door and stepped out right away without inviting me inside. She had her own swim things tucked under her arm, and I could see that she’d been crying. Mariko closed the door behind her and started to walk briskly away from her quarters. She waited to say anything until we were on Meridian Road.
“Tomeo’s gone,” she said.
“What do you mean, he’s gone? He . . . ran away? Escaped?”
“No,” Mariko said. “He’s gone. Released. He left.”
“Already?” I said, incredulous that Tomeo had been able to accomplish what he wanted to do in one day. “He’s with the army already?”
“Not exactly,” Mariko said, as she hiked her towel bag higher on her shoulder. “But they will probably want him after what happened to him last night. They will think he’s very brave and loyal. I guess he is.”
Her voice trailed away.
“What happened last night?” I asked, tentatively.
“Issei leaders from the Japanese community came to the house to talk sense into him. Or so they said. They tried to convince him he was shaming his entire family and all his ancestors by wanting to join the army. Tomeo kept saying the same things he told my father, that he respected the family and his heritage, but that he was an American and he wanted to do his part. When they realized they could not convince him, they began to beat him.” Mariko shuddered a little and a silver tear hugged her bottom eyelid. She sniffed and thumbed it away.
“Oh, Mariko,” I said, shuddering a little myself.
“It was awful, Elise. Everyone was shouting. The leaders, my parents, Tomeo, my mother, Kaminari. Me. I kept yelling for them to stop but they just kept punching and slapping and kicking him. They wanted him to take back what he said. They wanted him to give in and say he wouldn’t enlist. But I knew Tomeo wouldn’t back down. Kaminari bolted out of the house. I didn’t know where she was going, but she ran to the administration building. O’Rourke was still there. He hadn’t gone home yet, and he sent guards back to the house with Kaminari. By the time they got there, Tomeo was crumpled onto the floor, all bruised and bleeding everywhere. The guards took him to the infirmary. And then this morning, O’Rourke said he was releasing Tomeo from Crystal City and putting him on a bus to the army depot in San Antonio where he had contacts in the military. Those friends are going to help Tomeo take the next steps to enlist.”
I could see O’Rourke doing this. Helping Tomeo like that. He’d always liked Tomeo. Everyone in the camp administration called him Tom. He’d been an ally to O’Rourke and an intermediary between the administration and the issei leaders when the juniors and seniors at the Federal High School, with Tomeo at the forefront, wanted to have a prom and the Japanese leaders of the camp forbade it. Tomeo had gone before the issei leaders and said the students merely wished to have a dance to commemorate the end of high school. O’Rourke wanted all the American-born students to have as normal a high school experience as possible, especially the graduating seniors. He was on the students’ side, came to Tomeo’s aid, and helped the students pull off the prom despite opposition. On the evening of the dance, a group of angry issei parents crashed it at the midway point and effectively shut it down. But there had been half a prom at the school, and Tomeo, with O’Rourke’s assistance, had made it happen. Tomeo was a gifted leader, someone who got things done, and being fluent in both English and Japanese, he surely had skills the American military could use. But I was still so surprised that he was gone, just like that.
“Did you get to say good-bye?” I asked.
“We were summoned to the administration building early this morning and told to bring a few things that Tomeo had asked for. His clothes, his books, his letters from the friends he knew in Little Tokyo. Mr. O’Rourke also allowed us to have a moment to wish Tomeo well and hug and kiss him. My mom, Kaminari, and I went, but . . . but my father didn’t come.”
Mariko broke off. She bit her lip to stem the tears that wanted to fall.
“I’m so sorry, Mariko,” I said, wishing with all my heart I had better words.
“My sister couldn’t stop crying,” Mariko said. “She had always been in support of Tomeo leaving Crystal City, and she knew it was probably going to happen, but not today. She wasn’t thinking it was going to happen so soon. She will probably leave now, too. As soon as she can.”
I wanted so very much to ease the ache of Mariko’s losses, but I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do except walk alongside her.
The cooler morning air was already giving way to a blazing-hot sun that felt like it wanted with all its might to burn us to ashes. When we got to the pool, other families were already there. We would not have the great expanse of water all to ourselves. Mariko dumped her things onto the cement pathway as soon as we were near the water and dove in. I watched from the edge as she swam its length, back and forth several times until she was gasping for breath. The water on her eyelashes sparkled like starlight as she climbed out to sit next to me.
I was thinking in that moment that Tomeo’s beating and sudden departure were the worst things that would happen that summer. I believed that Mariko and I, after she had some time to grieve the loss of her brother’s presence, could return to dreaming about a future life in Manhattan. But in truth, Tomeo’s leaving—and the way he left—was just the beginning.