War of the Eagles (21 page)

“The Japanese have been ordered to leave Rupert.”

“Leave Rupert! That can't be true!”

“Remember who you're talking to,” he replied with a hint of indignation.

“Where are they going?” I choked. “When do they have to leave?”

“Don't know where, but I know when. Tomorrow morning.”

“That can't be right.”

“It is. Got it straight from the horse's mouth. I was just down in Rupert and speaking to a couple of the RCMP. They had to go and give the orders this morning and will be back tomorrow to enforce it.”

I tossed the remaining bites of my sandwich to Eddy.

He ignored it.

“Could you tell my mom I won't be able to help her anymore today? I gotta go.”

“Me?” Smitty said. “Why don't you tell her?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Just because,” I answered.

“More likely because she might not want you to go to the village, so you figure it's better to ask for her for–giveness later than her permission now. Right?”

“Right. Will you tell her?”

He nodded his head. “How much of a head start you want?”

“Ten minutes or so. I don't figure she'll be coming after me.”

I had to fight the urge to start running. It was too far to run. Maybe Smitty was wrong. There were always lots of rumors and almost all of them were just talk. I knew Smitty too well to believe he was wrong, but I needed something to keep me going.

Breaking through the trees, I was unprepared for what I saw. Everyone in the whole village seemed to be out on the streets. Old, young, mothers holding their babies, whole families, carrying things and moving towards the harbor. In the harbor, some at anchor rising and falling with the waves, and others tied to the dock, were the fishing boats of the village. The boats which had been put away for the winter were all back in the water.

People were moving, faces blank, eyes flat and fo–cused on the ground. I mumbled greetings which were left unanswered. I felt a wave of panic sweep over me and my stomach clenched tightly into a fist.

I bumped into an old woman. “ I'm sorry,” I mum–bled. I knew her from my visits to the village, but didn't know her name. She looked up at me and her eyes flashed with annoyance. Then those same eyes shifted down to the ground, and she hurried off.

I raced across the village to Tadashi's house. The front door was closed and I pounded on it. Silence. I knocked again. No answer. I stared at the door, hoping to see somehow right through the wood and into the house.

“Hello, Jedidiah,” came a familiar voice from behind me.

I spun around quickly. It was Tadashi's grandmother.

“Family all at boat. Be back soon. Come inside,” she invited. She opened the front door and I followed behind her. She closed the door and I felt a swelling of safety. In here, things seemed the same.

“Tea?”

“Yeah, I mean, yes please.”

“I put on kettle.”

“Please, could you explain things to me,” I pleaded.

“I don't understand either,” she said, shaking her head.

“RCMP come, first light, tell us leave by tomorrow.”

She was interrupted by the sounds of the front door opening. Tadashi and his father came through the door. They looked shocked, and stopped. In behind them came Yuri and Midori. Midori brushed the hair away from her face and flashed a shy smile.

“Jed!” Yuri blurted. “Have you come to help us move?”

“I came …” my head was spinning, my stomach churning, … “I came to say … I don't know … just to say goodbye.”

Mr. Fukushima nodded an acknowledgment.

“Where are you going to?” I asked.

“We don't know,” Tadashi said. “They didn't tell us.

Just ordered us to be on our boats and ready to go.”

“Is there anything I can do? Can I help you move things?”

Tadashi shook his head. “No need. We're not taking much. There isn't much space. Besides, we hope to be back in our homes soon.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing. I have to go back to the boat,” Tadashi said.

He turned and walked back through the door.

“Tadi!” I called out, running after him. I grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around to face me.

“I don't know what to say.”

“There's nothing to say,” he answered. “You have to go. Some of the people in the village are angry. I don't think they'd do anything, but I'm not sure. I've got to get back to loading. Please go … now.”

My hands melted off of his shoulders. He turned and walked away. I stood, stunned, my mouth hanging open, and watched him move away, not looking back.

I felt a tear force its way out and roll down my cheek. My hand went up to wipe it away. Then, without think–ing, on the way back down to my side, it stopped on the top button of my army jacket. The jacket of the army that was forcing my friend to leave. I undid that button. And then the next, and the next, and the last. A shiver ran through my entire body and the jacket slipped off my shoulders and fell to the ground. I stepped backwards, over the clump of clothes I'd just shed. I looked down. It looked strange just lying on the ground. I knew I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. I sprinted off to the safety of the rocks, running blindly amongst the people moving towards the docks.

I scrambled up the rocks, not stopping until I reached the top. I sat down, curled up my legs, put my head down between my knees and sobbed.

“Here, take this, it's cold.” It was Tadashi.

I looked up. He stood overtop of me, my jacket in his outstretched hand. I wiped my face to try to remove the tears.

“Take it,” he repeated. “This isn't like Victoria. It's too cold to be out here in January without a jacket.”

I didn't move. He took it and draped it over my shoulders.

“Nice jacket.” Tadashi sat down on the rocks beside me. “I was so jealous when you got it, and so happy when I got one of my own. The worst part of leaving the base was having to give mine back. I was the only Japanese in all of Canada wearing one of those. Pretty special, eh?”

I pulled the jacket tightly around me but couldn't think of anything to say.

“I spent last night crying,” he said.

I nodded. “I'm sorry, Tadi, I'm sorry for everything,” I said quietly.

“So am I.”

We sat, side by side, without talking, staring at the scene played out below us.

“Tadi … I'm glad you came up here.”

“You should be. You would have frozen without your jacket.”

“You know what I mean.”

He stood up, then offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet.

“I've got to go,” he said. He still held my hand. “Take care, Jed, take care.”

“You too, Tadi.”

He turned and took a few steps.

“Wait!” I called out. He stopped.

I stood up and walked to his side. “We have one more thing to do before you have to leave,” I said.

.16.

“You don't need to turn the flashlight off yet,” I said. “We're still pretty far from the base.”

“I didn't turn it off. It just stopped working.” Tadashi shook the light and smacked it with the palm of his hand, but it didn't start up again.

“Here, let me give it a try.” I took the flashlight from his hands and fiddled with it. It didn't spark to life, so I gave it a hard slap with the side of my hand.

“Gee, why didn't I think of that?” he asked sarcasti–cally. “Besides, it might be better without the light. There's less chance of us being seen by one of the pa–trols if we move in the dark. You can get us to the camp without the light?”

“'Course I can. I always said I could find the way with my eyes closed. Just stay right behind me and try to walk quietly.” I guessed we'd find out if I was right.

It was a clear night. The half moon peeked through the openings between the trees and thousands of pin-pricks of stars, scattered like somebody had tossed up a handful of salt into the sky, punctuated the night.

When Tadashi and I met on the big rock along the path between our villages, I'd prayed for the sky to become overcast to offer us better protection from prying eyes.

Now without the flashlight, I was thankful for the trickles of light from the sky.

“Be careful,” I whispered. “Trip wires up ahead … step over them carefully.”

We both gingerly stepped over the wires. This marked the farthest line of the camp defenses. From this point on we'd have to be on the lookout for patrols. There could be anywhere from three to four pairs of men walking the perimeter.

I pricked up my ears. I knew we'd hear them before we could see them. It was almost impossible to move quietly wearing army boots. I was grateful for mocca–sins. I wore my old comfortable pair while Tadashi was wearing a pair of my Naani's which I'd borrowed for the evening. I didn't expect her to be out walking at three in the morning, so I figured she wouldn't be needing them the rest of the night.

There were patches of snow on the ground but mainly it was bare. The earth was frozen, and, despite the moccasins, occasionally we'd step on a patch of ice and it would crack underneath noisily. It was cold and I felt a chill throughout my body. That was partly fear, but it was also partly due to the fact that I was wearing my peacoat, which wasn't nearly as thick as my army jacket. I just thought it wasn't right to wear it tonight. Not right because I was sneaking into the base and somehow it seemed disrespectful. And not right because Tadashi was with me.

Up ahead I heard sounds. We both froze. I crouched down and motioned for Tadashi to do the same. Al–though his coat was lighter than mine and he was just a few feet away, he'd melted into the shadows and was invisible. That reassured me. The sounds became more clear. The snapping of twigs under foot. Voices, and then little snippets of conversation floated through the underbrush. The sounds were getting louder. The patrol was heading in our direction.

I felt a sudden urge to run, but knew to keep the urge in check. If we didn't move and didn't make a sound, they'd have to step on us before they'd see us. That was how it was with all animals. An owl doesn't see a mouse until it moves. A fawn is invisible to the wolf as long as it stays completely still. It isn't the animal but the motion that's spotted. We just had to stay still.

I thought about what Tadashi and I had planned. If it looked like we were about to be discovered, it was up to me to give myself away. I'd either jump up or run off and lead them away from Tadashi. If they caught me, and I doubted they ever could, I'd just be given a big-time lecture. It might not be that easy for Tadi.

The voices became louder. I had to drive one thought out of my mind; running through the forest, soldiers crashing through the underbrush behind me, getting away, leaving them farther and farther behind, and then the crack of a bullet and a searing, burning sensation exploding in my body.

Instead I put another idea in its place. I thought about my Naani, making herself “invisible” as she glided silently through the forest, over the trip wires and be–tween the patrols, on one of her unannounced visits to the camp to see me, my mother or Eddy.

The guards were coming closer, but it was obvious that, unless they changed course, they'd pass us on the left. The voices were now so loud I could pick out parts of the conversation. I was pretty sure I recognized one of the voices and felt reassured. They passed by at the closest point to us, and then the sounds started to fade. Soon there was silence.

I turned to Tadashi. I didn't see anything. I knew he was there, just a few feet away, squatting down low to the ground. “Tadashi!” I whispered loudly.

There was a flicker of movement and he came into focus. “That was close.”

“Too close. Could you make out who it was?” I asked.

“Yeah, one of them was Washburn, wasn't it?”