Silent Honor (11 page)

“It is very difficult to be from another place,” she said sadly. “I did not know that in California, it would be like this.” She had expected to like school, and to make friends. She hadn't expected to be an outcast.

“I felt that way in Japan,” he said gently, with eyes that reached out to hers with unspoken compassion. “The way I looked, the way I dressed, the way I moved, everything set me apart. I felt completely out of place the whole time I was there, but I liked it anyway. It was so beautiful, and so fascinating, after a while I didn't mind “being different.” He smiled at the memories he still cherished. “Sometimes children followed me. They just looked up and stared at me…. I gave them candy, and they loved it. And I took lots of pictures.” She smiled, remembering other foreigners she'd seen with small armies of children following them. Perhaps if her parents had ever let her, she might have done it as well, but of course they never had.

“I did not know, Peter-san, that I would be one of those people …someone odd to be stared at. At college, everyone finds me very strange. … It is very alone for me,” she confessed with huge, dark eyes that spoke volumes of the loneliness she had felt ever since she'd left Kyoto.

“
I'm
sorry,” he said sadly. He wanted to change things for her, to shield her from the pain, to help her sail home again. He couldn't bear the sorrow he saw in her eyes as he watched her. “Perhaps you're right,” he said, not knowing what else to say. “Perhaps it will get better.” But there would be no changing Anne, or Sharon, or the others. And Hiroko knew that.

“I am happy here,” she said philosophically, “with Uncle Tak and Aunt Rei. They are very kind to me. … I am very fortunate to have them.”

“They are very fortunate to have you too,” he said kindly, and then regretfully, she bowed to him, and told him she had to get back to help Reiko. “I hope things get better at school soon,” he encouraged her, wishing that she would be there on Sunday when he came for dinner. But maybe it was just as well she wouldn't. He felt something much too powerful between them each time he saw her. It still haunted him as she drove away; it was like an irresistible force pulling him toward her. He couldn't understand why or how it had happened. She was a young girl, she had come here to go to school. And he was a man, with his own life, his own ways, and a woman of his own kind to keep him involved and busy. What did he need with this child, this girl-woman with the velvet eyes whose face haunted him each time he thought of her? What could possibly ever come of his feelings?

He was annoyed with himself when he got into his car and drove away. It was time to stop it, before it began. It wasn't like Takeo falling in love with Reiko when she was a young student and he was a young professor. This was not 1922, he wasn't Takeo, and she wasn't Reiko. He was American, and she was Japanese. He had a life and a job, and a girlfriend. And no matter how fiercely Peter was attracted to Hiroko, or how remarkable she was, or even if he fell in love with her one day, they had no future. He put his foot on the gas, and drove away, promising himself he'd forget her. There was no point even dreaming about her. So he wouldn't, he said to himself firmly, as his mind drifted back to the lavender kimono.

Chapter 6

N
OVEMBER WAS
slightly easier for Hiroko. Sharon started having trouble in school, and Hiroko volunteered to help her with her studies. Sharon hesitated at first, but in the end she was grateful for Hiroko's help, and as they sat together for hours at night, poring over their work, Hiroko had the illusion of friendship.

Anne still made no bones to either of them about her feelings. She was still outraged to be rooming with Hiroko, and she was almost equally unhappy about Sharon. Show business people were not her kind, she had said in no uncertain terms to the dean of students, and neither were Orientals. They had her rooming with the trash of the school, as far as she was concerned, and after all the money her parents had donated, she honestly felt she deserved a lot better. She felt personally affronted by them, and her parents had even come to discuss it with the dean, and the head of the housing committee. They had been assured that at the first opportunity, Anne would be given a single room, but there were simply none available at the moment, and it would have been unfair to the other girls to make exceptions and heroic efforts for her. And after all, they reminded the Spencers, as they had Anne, that Hiroko was a lovely young woman, from a respected family in Japan. And although the Spencers conceded that perhaps she was a nice girl, they pointed out that this was California, not Japan, and the Japanese were not highly regarded. In fact, Charles Spencer had assured them that there would be no further donations to the school until Anne was moved. But the administration only dug in their heels. They did not wish to be blackmailed.

And to underline her unhappiness, Anne went home two days early for the Thanksgiving holidays. She was threatening to transfer to another school, and the dean had told her to think it over before doing anything hasty. And all of this because of poor little Hiroko. She didn't tell anyone about the continuing maelstrom. It had been humiliating enough when she complained at first. And at least Sharon was civil to her now. Ever since Hiroko had been doing more of her work for her, Sharon had been a great deal nicer Hiroko. She still wasn't overly friendly publicly, but she was always nice when they got back to the room, and she even bought her a box of candy to thank her. Hiroko was particularly good at physics and chemistry, and she had an easy time with math too, and she was always well prepared in Latin. Sharon was good in none of those. The only subject she seemed to do well in was Spanish. But Hiroko didn't take it, so Sharon had very little to offer.

She was going to her father's to spend Thanksgiving in Palm Springs, and Anne had already said that they were flying to New York to be with her sister. She was going to miss a week of school, but as Hiroko stood at the window and watched her get into the limousine, she wasn't sorry. It would be a lot easier for her without Anne.

This time, because of the holiday, Ken drove down to pick Hiroko up at school, and she drove back with him to Palo Alto in high spirits. No one had said anything to her when she left. Even Sharon had forgotten to say good-bye to her, she was in such a hurry to catch the train to Los Angeles to meet her father. She had told Hiroko that Gable and Lombard might be spending Thanksgiving with them, but Hiroko wasn't at all sure she could believe her.

“So how's school?” Ken asked her honestly, and she glanced out the window before she answered, and then turned to look at him.

“Pretty lousy,” she said in perfect slang, and he burst into laughter.

“Boy,
is
your English improving!”

She started laughing too, he always reminded her so much of her brother. “Yuji will be pleased. He speaks American slang very beautifully. I have many things to learn about it.”

“Sounds like you're learning to me,” Ken said with admiration, but he wasn't surprised to hear what she had said. He had heard his parents talk about her problems. He was sorry for her, she was still so shy, and it seemed unfair for the girls at school to be giving her a hard time. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like living with Anne Spencer.

They talked about Thanksgiving then, and their plans for the weekend. They both wanted to see
The Maltese Falcon
with Humphrey Bogart and Sydney Greenstreet, and he had promised to take Tami skating. Ken had also figured out who Sally was spending so much time with, and although he didn't completely approve, he had promised to double-date with her, if their parents would agree to let Sally go with them. She was, after all, only fourteen, and Ken and the other boy were two years older. And to complicate matters, Sally's beau was not Japanese, and Ken wasn't sure how his parents would feel about it.

“What about you? Have you met any boys yet?” He knew there were occasional dances at the school, with boys from U.C. Berkeley, but she had never said anything about going, and he didn't think she did. She was much too shy, and she seemed to have no interest whatsoever in dating.

“I have no time, Kenji-san,” she said, calling him by his Japanese name. “I am too busy with my studies.” And Sharon's. In the last week she had done all of Sharon's work for her too, so she wouldn't have to tackle it over Thanksgiving. It had kept Hiroko up past lights out every night, and she had sat in the bathroom with a flashlight to complete it.

“Don't you like boys?” he teased. She was almost old enough to be married. Some girls were married at her age, particularly if they didn't go to college.

“My mother says that when I go back to Japan, they will go to a go-between and find a husband for me.” She said it without concern, as though she found it not only acceptable but of greater comfort, not to have to choose one's own husband, and her cousin stared at her in amazement.

“Are you serious? That's uncivilized! It's right out of the dark ages.” He was horrified, and he couldn't believe she'd do that.

“My parents were married that way,” she said with a smile, amused by his reaction. It didn't seem shocking to her at all. Her grandmother said it was better that way, and she believed her. She completely trusted her parents' judgment.

“So were my grandparents,” he said as they drove along, “but my parents met each other and fell in love and got married.”

“Perhaps they were very lucky. Perhaps in America it is different.” Everything else was, so why not marriage? But she liked the old ways, and she preferred to let her parents find her husband when the time came.

“Would you really marry someone you'd never even met?” He was stunned by what she was describing. He had heard about it, but he couldn't conceive of someone wanting to do that now, and certainly not his cousin. She was gorgeous and she could have had any guy she wanted.

“I would meet him, Kenji-san. You meet him, and you decide if you would like him. My father met my mother.” Her father also didn't believe that they should go to a go-between for her, but Hidemi had always told Hiroko that she would convince him.

“I think you're crazy,” he said, shaking his head as they neared San Mateo.

“I
am not crazy, Kenji-san. I do not eat peanut butter, which will close my mouth forever.” He laughed at what she said. He knew how she hated it, and how horrified she had been the first time he gave her a taste of it. Later, she had said that she'd been frightened her mouth might never open. “You are crazy, Ken-san. You listen to crazy music.” He loved the sound of the big bands, but he also loved jazz as well as boogie-woogie, and Sally was completely nuts over Frank Sinatra. Hiroko liked him too, but she still preferred to listen to Japanese music. And when she did, Ken always made fun of her, and Tarn put her hands over her ears and howled. She said it was awful.

But it was always fun for Hiroko to go home to them. She was completely comfortable in their midst, and she was less shy now. She gave her Uncle Tak a warm hug when they arrived, and she went straight to the kitchen to help Reiko. Thanksgiving was the next day, but she was already busy making apple and mince pies, and doing some of the advance preparations. Sally had helped for a while, but after an hour of rolling dough, she had gone outside to meet some girlfriends.

“Hi, Hiroko, how's school?” Reiko asked as she looked up. Ken stood looking longingly into the refrigerator, and finally settled on a leftover lamb chop.

“She says it's ‘pretty lousy,’ “ he answered for her. “I'd say our cousin's English
is
improving.” All three of them laughed, and Tami came downstairs to show Hiroko a magazine ad for the new doll she wanted for Christmas.

She was planning to ask Santa Claus for it, and Reiko already had it hidden in a box in her closet.

“You'll have to be a very good girl,” Reiko inspired her.

Ken laughed as he poured himself a glass of milk, and teased his little sister. “Looks like you can forget that one,” he said blithely.

Tami glared at him, and Hiroko pulled her close to her and hugged her. It felt so good coming back to them, she loved being with them, and the warmth of their family. To her, they were real Americans, and wonderful people.

After dinner that night, Ken and Sally went out, but Hiroko decided to stay home with Tak and Reiko. They listened to the news for a while, and Tak was particularly interested in the talks between the United States and Japan, which had resulted in the termination of certain trade agreements between them. Relations between Japan and the United States had been deteriorating for a while, and the news from Europe was worse than ever.

“The world's in a hell of a state, Rei,” he said quietly, deeply concerned about what he was hearing. Roosevelt was still promising to stay out of the war, but Takeo hadn't believed him in months, and he knew that there were people in Washington who were concerned about Japan eventually becoming a serious aggressor. It seemed unlikely to Tak, but anything was possible, given the state of the world at the moment. Only the week before, a British carrier had been sunk by an Italian torpedo. “I'm really getting worried about what's going on with Japan, and the war in Europe. And the poor Brits can't hold on forever. It's amazing they've held on this long.” Reiko nodded, concerned about the same things, although politics always seemed more remote to her than they did to Takeo. But political science was his business. It was his job to analyze what was happening in the world, and it just wasn't very encouraging at the moment.

But world politics were forgotten the next day, when they celebrated two holidays in one: Thanksgiving, and the Japanese holiday Kinro Kansha-no-Hi, which fell on the same day that year. In Japan, it was the opportunity to give thanks for a successful harvest.

“So I guess this year we're doubly thankful,” Takeo said lightheartedly as he made a toast, and began to carve the turkey. “Triply thankful,” he added, looking down the table. “We have Hiroko to be grateful for too. A wonderful new addition to our family.” He raised his glass again, and Peter Jenkins joined him. He was spending Thanksgiving with them, as he did every year, and he was relieved that Carole was spending the long weekend with her family in Milwaukee. He liked coming to the Tanakas' by himself, especially when he knew he'd see Hiroko. But in spite of that, he had made a careful effort to sit at the opposite end of the table from Hiroko. She was down at the other end, between Ken and Tami. He hadn't seen her in a month, but the last time he had seen her had unnerved him. It seemed that each time they met, something about her haunted him, and he found himself thinking about her for days afterwards. And this time, he had promised himself not to let that happen. She was just a very young girl, and it was ridiculous to be attracted to her. He decided it was probably her timidity that appealed to him, and the romance and mystery of her kimono. And just acknowledging that seemed to diffuse it.