Authors: Brenda Minton
“OnÄ-san,”
she said, and in a gesture mimicking Ruthie's earlier one, pointed to herself and added, “Tomiko.”
Mrs. Kagawa gasped, and the others in the room all fell silent.
Ruthie recognized the name Tomiko from their introduction and assumed she was indicating the doll in the blue dress belonged to her. The dolls' resemblance and the fact that they sported similar writings left her wondering where this conversation was heading. Did she and Sobo know one another? One look at Gray, and the reaction of the others, told her they understood exactly what was going on.
The birthday lady reached over and patted Gray's hand in a show of familiarity and affection.
“Oi,”
she repeated.
Apparently stunned by the revelation, he sat back in the chair to take it all in.
“What?” Ruthie asked. “What is it?”
He turned his gaze to her. “
ImÅto-san
means little sister,” he said. “
OnÄ-san
is big sister.” He frowned, deep in thought. “I thought Sobo was an only child.”
Ruthie leaned back from her kneeling position and thumped to a resounding sit. Tomiko Kishimoto was Sobo's big sister. With that bit of information in place, she now recalled the other family word Sobo had taught her.
Oi.
Nephew. This sweet elderly woman was Gray's great-aunt. It took a moment for everything to sink in. The odds of their encountering each other an ocean and several decades away were astronomical.
Gray leaned back, processing this groundbreaking information. He met Ruthie's gaze, and she wished she could offer him the kind of comfort and assurance she would have liked for herself right now. But this moment was not about her and him.
Mrs. Kishimoto, having overcome her earlier distress, now excitedly told the story of how she had come to have this doll, and her niece translated for her.
As young children living outside of Tokyo, the girls had been given identical dolls. Although their mother had made different-colored dresses for them, the sisters had marked the dolls to prevent their getting mixed up. Naoko often slept with hers at night to calm her fears of the dark.
All the othersâGray's new family members, and hers by associationâwere as enthralled as she at hearing the story of two sisters growing up a world away and so many decades ago.
Tomiko fast-forwarded into the story about ten years. When Naoko was only sixteen, she answered an ad for employment at an office in nearby Tokyo. Anxious about going for her first job interview, she had tucked the doll in her bag to calm her nerves. Tomiko and the family had kissed her and wished her well, then sent her on her way.
Mrs. Kagawa, apparently also hearing this for the first time, continued translating. Her voice grew soft. “A terrible thing happen that day,” she said. “Naoko never come home.”
The family had wondered why she had not contacted them and had feared she'd been badly injured. Tomiko had been looking for her ever since, guided to the United States by a witness who saw an American servicemanâPop?ârescue Naoko from a vicious mugging. Having learned the serviceman's company was originally from Virginia, Tomiko had eventually moved here in hopes of locating that man and finding out what had become of her sister.
Ruthie glanced over at Gray, who was visibly shaken by what he heard. To the young people in the room, this was a fascinating story about a stranger they'd never met. But to Gray it was a piece of his grandmother's personal history. She felt certain his heart must ache at the thought of Sobo, a vulnerable young girl alone in the city, being attacked by a stranger.
He was so close, almost close enough to touch, but seemed so far away. She wanted to take his hand and let him know he wasn't alone. Wanted to let him lean on her, but she couldn't.
Tomiko reached for him, her demeanor cautious, and asked a question.
“She want to know,” Mrs. Kagawa said, “if Naoko still alive.”
Gray stood and bowed to his newfound great-aunt. “She's very much alive,” he said, and briefly explained that she was currently recovering from a broken hip. “I'm sure she would be honored to see you.” Then he turned to Mrs. Kagawa, gave her his grandparents' address and asked her to bring Tomiko and meet him there in thirty minutes.
Ruthie rose and stood on the periphery of the circle that now clustered around Gray. She was not officially connected to these nice people who were Gray's new family, but neither was she a total bystander.
He looked to her and nodded toward the door. “Want to ride with me? I'm sure Sobo and Pop will want you there.”
Her role in joining him today was not as his partner, but as Sobo's grandchild.
* * *
Gray stuck his head in Sobo's room and found Pop reading a home-repair magazine while his wife napped. He beckoned his grandfather into the living room, where he broke the news about Sobo's doll and the history behind it. Ruthie filled in the bits that he left out, and he was glad to have her here. Her calm presence and softly spoken words provided a positive perspective in the midst of their whirlwind discovery.
Pop sat between them on the sofa and pushed shaky fingers through his white hair.
Ruthie was the first to break the weird silence that ensued. “Sobo never spoke of her sister. Did they have a falling-out?”
That possibility had never occurred to Gray. Now he wondered if he'd done the right thing by inviting Tomiko and her family to meet Sobo.
Pop looked up, his gaze far away as if he was remembering what had happened so many years ago. “Naoko was never able to tell you about her past, because she didn't remember it. She has amnesia.”
The mugging. It must have been bad if it had left her with a head injury that blotted out her entire childhood.
“It was during the Korean War. She had been lured with the prospect of a job in Tokyo. The pay was more than most receptionist jobs offered, which should have been a tip-off, but what young woman wouldn't have been excited about making a lot of money for her first real job?” He looked toward the hall, listening for Sobo's call, then lowered his voice. “She was abducted and beaten, presumably by the man who had placed the ad. I happened to be on R & R that weekend and saw a pretty young woman getting roughed up by a guy who was trying to push her into his car. Other than shouting for help, people stood around watching, but nobody did anything about it. Probably too shocked to react, or maybe they were afraid they'd get hurt if they tried to help her.”
He and Ruthie had already heard this part of the story, but she drew in a sharp breath as if it were the first telling. He didn't blame her. Tomiko had glossed over the details, or perhaps her niece had left them out during translation. At any rate, Pop's blow-by-blow rendition was hard to hear.
“I gave him a taste of his own medicine,” Pop said, modestly diminishing his role in the event, “but by the time I reached them, he had already beat her pretty bad. Knocked her unconscious. I didn't wait for an ambulance. Just picked her up and carried her to the hospital two blocks away and stayed with her for the rest of my R & R.”
Ruthie had pressed her knuckles to her mouth. “Thank God you were there at the right place and right time. And that you were willing to risk your own safety to help her.”
He understood why his grandfather had done it. The need to protect others must have been in Pop's DNA, passed down to Gray's father and then to him.
“She was treated for a head injury, but the doctors couldn't help with her memory loss. We were told that if it didn't come back after a few months, it would probably be permanent. And it was. The doctor said if she got another concussion, it could cause more serious problems. Even life threatening.”
Ruthie moved closer to Pop to lay a comforting hand on his arm, and he pulled her to him to kiss her lightly on the forehead. “What about her attacker?” she asked. “Was he ever found?”
Pop shook his head. “He drove away before anyone could get a look at his license plate. The police were able to figure out from the classified ad found in Naoko's pocket that she'd been the latest target of a human-trafficking ring.”
It sickened Gray to think what might have happened to Sobo if his grandfather had stood back like everyone else and watched without acting.
“She also had the doll with her, but it didn't offer any clues,” Pop said.
Ruthie rose and paced the floor. “But it said âlittle sister' on the doll. Didn't that give a clue that she had family?”
Pop rubbed a hand across the afternoon crop of white whiskers on his cheek, and the raspy sound matched his voice. “She insisted it meant the doll was âNaoko's little sister.' We assumed a quirk in her brain had allowed her to remember that piece of information even though everything else was locked away. But she must have made an assumption and latched on to it as fact.”
Knowing now what he did about his grandmother's head injury, it was easy to see why Pop had worried so much about her hitting her head when she fell off the rose trellis.
The rest was the stuff of Hollywood movies. Pop went on to explain that he visited her in the hospital and later in rehab whenever he could get approval to return to Tokyo. And in between they wrote letters. They fell in love, and when it was time for her release from medical care, she became his war bride and went on to create a lifetime of happy new memories with him.
Gray hoped that someday he would find someone to create happy memories with him. A surreptitious glance over at Ruthie caught her watching him just as she used to do at the piano, and he quickly jerked his gaze back to his grandfather. He had thought Ruthie was the one, and they'd made a good start at creating happy memories, but it wasn't meant to be. Too much murky water under that bridge.
Sobo's sleep-groggy voice drifted to them from the other room.
Aware now of the delicate medical condition Sobo had kept so well hidden all these years, Gray wondered again if he'd made a mistake in inviting Tomiko here today. “Do you think Sobo can handle the shock of meeting her sister after so much time has passed?”
Pop paused at the door and considered his answer. “I suppose we should let her make that decision.”
He and Ruthie followed their patriarch down the hall to Sobo's room, where she greeted them with her usual delight to see them.
As they entered the room, he caught Ruthie making an emu hand for silent prayer. Perhaps, like him, she was hoping that hearing the story about Tomiko would trigger Sobo's memory. Strangely, he found he wasn't annoyed by the ever-present sign of her faith.
He sat on the edge of the bed next to his grandmother. “Sobo, we have something very important to tell you.”
Chapter Thirteen
P
op started off by telling Sobo about mistakenly taking the doll and his box of war memorabilia to Gleanings for Ruthie to sell. Ruthie, now absolved of guilt for having sold the doll thanks to the recent turn of events, admitted that it had been sold and explained their attempts to find the customer and retrieve it.
Gray noticed the look of anxious concern that crossed Sobo's face. “Don't worry,” he quickly assured her. “It gets better.”
Sobo smiled and reached for Ruthie, who clasped her hand. But instead of holding on, Sobo placed Ruthie's hand in his and patted them both. She didn't know he and Ruthie had broken up again.
Gray sighed. That was more news they needed to tell her. But not today. Let her enjoy the reunion with her sister. No need to tarnish her joy. Not yet.
He went on to explain about the birthday party for Mrs. Kagawa's aunt and the revelation that the woman now had two identical dolls.
Pop filled in the last, most pertinent bit of information. “You have a sister.”
Gray didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a curious tilt of her head and a blank expression. After all the final puzzle fragments had been pieced together today, he had assumed Sobo would look at the completed picture and recognize the image they had presented to her. Perhaps he had hoped her reaction would be even more excited than those of Tomiko and her family.
Pop looked crestfallen.
Ruthie pulled her hand from Gray's reluctant grasp and slid her arm around Pop's shoulders. “Give it some time. This is a lot to take in at once.”
The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of Sobo's sister. Sobo seemed anxious, and Gray wondered if this was too much to spring on her in one day. What if the reunion turned sour? Maybe they should have waited to let the information sink in for a few days before attempting an introduction. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option now. He only hoped their meeting again after all these years wouldn't do more harm than good.
“You don't have to meet Tomiko if you don't want to,” Ruthie said, echoing his own thoughts.
Sobo forced a tentative smile. “I want.”
He had always seen his grandmother as an active, lively person who could do anything she set her mind to. In her, he saw a physical strength, as well as mental fortitude. Now, for the first time, he saw an even deeper strength. A strength that had pushed aside self-pity over the loss of her memory and all the people in her past. A strength that had allowed her to trust the man who had rescued her to bring her to this new country with its unfamiliar customs, where he would love her and protect her.
He excused himself and welcomed Tomiko and her niece into the house. They had left the rest of the family behind so as not to overwhelm Sobo. He quickly briefed the women on Sobo's memory loss and warned them not to expect much of a response from her.
Tomiko clutched the dolls as if they were talismans that would see her safely through the relationship maze she was about to step into.
He led her into the room and offered her the recliner, but she stood beside the bed, transfixed, and gazed down at her sister. It was as if she was remembering the girl she had last seen and was running the image through a sixty-year time machine to see if it matched up with the person before her.
It apparently did. Tomiko abruptly sobbed and dabbed her swollen eyes with a wadded tissue. Her niece stood back and watched, making no effort to comfort her, since these were tears of joy.
Sobo stared back at her, clearly not registering the woman in front of her as the sister she had left behind. Gray's heart cracked, both for Sobo, who might never recover her lost memories, and for Tomiko, who had found her sister and understandably wanted all of her back.
Quietly, as if afraid of shattering the illusion, Tomiko spoke in Japanese. He didn't catch much except the word
chan,
an affectionate term for sister.
A moment later, something changed in Sobo's expression as a dawning awareness penetrated her fractured memory. Her lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. Then, finally, after a painfully long moment, “Miko?”
Tomiko nearly crumpled where she stood, and Gray moved to catch her. But his assistance was unnecessary. Tomiko draped herself over her sister, and the two women hugged and cried. Then they pulled back, beamed lovingly at each other and hugged and cried some more.
Overwhelmed by the display of raw emotion, and even more by the sheer impossibility of what had just occurred, he moved to the door to let them catch up on their lost years.
Ruthie followed him out of the room, beaming and brushing away a tear with the heel of her hand. Obviously thrilled to have been a witness to the touching reunion, she reached for his arm.
Barely aware of her touch, he pulled away. A sense of stunned amazement fell over him like a numbing blanket that both shielded him from the painful joy of the long-awaited reunion and surrounded him with the knowledge that this couldn't have happened. Not like this. Not in a million years.
Unable to feel at the moment, let alone think, all he knew was that he had to get away from the heightened emotions that stirred his soul and the contradictions that challenged his thoughts.
He didn't know where he was going. Just let his feet carry him where they would through the unseasonably chilly day. The wind blew against him, urging him to go back. In defiance, he shoved his hands into his pockets, hunched his shoulders and pushed against the cold blast.
It should have been impossible for Sobo's sisterâhis great-auntâto find her. The weirdest part was that he couldn't call this one a coincidence. As difficult as it was to admit, something deep down told him that mere coincidence could not have orchestrated events so Tomiko's search eventually led her to the passerby who had witnessed Sobo's rescue by the American soldier who was now his grandfather.
Despite his resistance over these past four years, he knew with a certainty that coincidence had not led Tomiko to Richmond, Virginia, where that soldier lived. Only God could have done that.
Wordlessly, he walked down the street and found himself at the church where all those he loved most came to worship.
Just as he had done three short weeks ago, he paused at the bottom of the steps to the welcoming portico. The chilly air swirled around him, questioning his actions. Slowly, cautiously, he ascended the stairs.
The door was unlocked. Gray pulled it open and stepped inside. Into the warmth.
* * *
Ruthie followed Gray to the church. Just as he had done a moment earlier, she paused at the steps. He had pushed her away before. He might do it again.
Never mind that. Gray was at church, and he hadn't been dragged here against his will. She said a silent prayer, asking God to guide him to the knowledge and understanding that he sought. “Lord, You helped Tomiko find her sister,” she whispered. “Please help Gray find his way back to You.”
She went inside and found him seated on the pew closest to the altar, elbows on knees and head resting in his hands. He looked...not defeated. Broken, maybe. It was hard seeing him like this. Seeing the man she had always viewed as big, strong and in control bent into a weary, overwhelmed posture. It was odd. And a little frightening.
She proceeded down the aisle to sit next to him. If he didn't want her there, he could send her away, but something told her he shouldn't be alone right now. He needed her.
She needed him.
She had almost reached the pew when he rose and walked to the altar. Slowly, he fell to his knees and bowed his head.
Unasked, she knelt beside him and assumed his posture. As she expected, he didn't respond. It didn't matter.
She slipped her hand into his, then wondered if she was pushing too hard.
Don't think,
she heard from somewhere deep within.
Just be.
After a moment he pulled away. But this time he reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. From a small pocket inside the billfold, he took out a worn letter and unfolded it. Ruthie recognized the handwriting as her own.
Gray held it open in front of him, staring but not appearing to see what was written on the paper. Her handwriting filled the page. “This was the last letter you sent me before I...”
Before he broke up with her. She remembered copying the psalms and sending them to him to read whenever he needed comfort. But instead of comforting him, the verses had only served to point out the divide in their beliefs.
Had he come here to ball up that letter? To put the final finish to his relationships with both God and her?
At the top of the page was Psalm 20:1.
Gray blinked a couple of times as if to clear his vision, then read the verse aloud. “âMay the Lord answer you when you are in distress. May the name of the God of Jacob protect you.'” Without looking at her, he cleared his throat. “Every time I saw that verse, it smacked me in the face. But for some reason, whenever I tried to throw this letter away, I couldn't do it.”
The God of Jacob. Of Jakey. No wonder he had taken it so personally when his friend had died. That verse must have seemed as though it was mocking him.
“When Jakey and I were under fire, he called out to God to protect us,” he said, reminding her of the painful events of that day. “To protect him, just like the verse promised.”
She touched his arm. “You don't have to go through this again. I understand.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You don't. Here's the part I didn't tell you.”
She sat back on her heels and waited until he was ready to tell her the rest.
“Jakey prayed for protection, and at that exact moment he was hit by shrapnel. I was so busy trying to get us out of there, I hadn't even
started
to pray. Yet I was the one who was spared.” He blew out a breath. “Explain that.”
It was understandable that such a disaster had caused him to question God's presence. Her heart ached for him, and she wished there was something she could say to make sense of what was an incomprehensible tragedy. No wonder he had decided he couldn't count on God during the bad times and refused to give Him credit for the good. No wonder he attributed God's blessings to coincidence.
“There's no way I can explain what happened in Afghanistan. Only God knows those answers,” she said. “But you have to admit that more than coincidence must have been at work to reunite Sobo with her long-lost sister. A sister she didn't even remember until today.”
Gray nodded. “Yeah, that's pretty freaky.” He smoothed out the letter and let his gaze roam over the verses. “After what happened today, it looks like maybe God was with us after all. Today and back then.”
The impact of his words hit her like a velvet-covered brick. She almost dared not hope that his frozen heart had started to melt.
He spoke again, and this time his voice was stronger. Clearer. “A stray dog joined us when I was struggling to get Jakey back to camp. He showed up from out of nowhere...as though he was sent to protect us. More than once that mutt let us know when enemy soldiers were nearby.” Gray turned toward her, and his gaze bored deeply into her eyes. “Here's the weird thing. I named that dog Radar. Was that a coincidence?”
There was no sarcasm to his question. Only a sincere earnestness as he sorted through the evidence of God's presence that had been there all along...evidence that he'd been unable to see at the time.
“You know what I think,” she said.
He sat silent for a moment, apparently taking it all in as he stared at the letter. “There were other verses. Promises of hiding places and songs of deliverance. At the time it seemed like those promises hadn't been kept, but now I wonder.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “The shelter we needed always showed up at just the right time. And then there was the time I lost my way back to the unit.” He shook his head as if barely able to comprehend how he hadn't seen this before. “Just when I thought I'd never find my way back, songs from a wedding in a nearby village helped me regain my direction.”
Coincidence, indeed. Ruthie leaned closer to him, feeling the warmth of his arm against her shoulder, and her gaze fell on another verse: “I will strengthen you, though you have not acknowledged me.”
“You hadn't acknowledged God,” she said. “But He gave you the strength to carry through anyway.” She laid her hand on his. “God's hand had been on you the entire time.”
He turned his hand upward and captured her fingers with his. “I just wish Jakey hadn't died.”
She squeezed back. “Me, too.”
Perhaps they would never understand why the faithful man had had to die so young. For now, it would have to be enough to trust that Jakey was safe in God's heavenly embrace.
Gray rose to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. “My sweet, loyal Ruthie.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her as if he might never let go. “God was there for me when I needed Him, and you were like a steadfast pillar. But I turned away from both of you.”
She smiled up at him. “That's in the past.”
“I'll never turn from God again,” he promised, “no more than I will ever turn away from you.”
He dropped his hands down her arms and once again captured her hands in his.
“I love you, Ruthie. Will you take a chance on me? Will you marry me?”
She had always known God had chosen this man for her. And now, at long last, he'd proved it. “I've always been yours, Gray. You're the only man I've ever loved.” Her spirit soared with so much happiness she could barely hold it all in. Her left hand clamped together in a prayer of thanksgiving. “Of course I'll marry you!”
Gray moved in to kiss her, then abruptly stopped. He lifted her left hand, his fingers shaping themselves around hers.
Thinking he found it silly, she started to shake her fingers loose, but he stopped her.