House of the Red Fish (27 page)

“Good,” she said, then nodded to her niece that it was okay to come closer.

“So,” Fumi said. “I heard this was the big day. These boys came because I told them what you was doing and that you had trouble. But now we just going watch, ah?”

Suzy came up and stood behind her. She waved and I nodded back.

This was turning into a circus. But so what? It was a big day, the biggest day in a long time. Why not have all these strangers here? Share it.
You see, Papa? You see what we’re doing? You feel it, wherever you are? Your boat is coming up!

Rico tapped my shoulder. “Some day, ah?”

“That it is, my friend. Let’s get to work.”

I heard an engine cough and spit, then die.

Calvin was yanking on the compressor’s pull rope, trying to start it up.

And now Ojii-chan was missing again.

“Fumi, where’s Grampa?”

“He getting the boy.”

“What boy?”

“Surprise.”

The big haole guy Calvin knew hovered over the compressor with his hands on his knees. “Need some muscle there, Hawaiian?”

Calvin grinned. “Hard to believe you didn’t even know what you was down here to beef about.”

“Yeah, well … sorry about that.” He stuck out his hand.

Calvin grinned and slapped it. Then he rewound the pull rope.

“Wilson said it was subversive, so we came,” the guy said.

Calvin looked up. “Subversive? What that means?”

“Like you’re doing something for the enemy and not us.”

Calvin scowled. “Well, he was wrong, ah?” He nodded toward me. “That kid who just shame your friend wants to fix up this boat for when his pops comes home.”

“From where?”

Calvin glanced at me.

“He was arrested after Pearl Harbor,” I said. “The navy thought he was working for Japan, helping them. But he wasn’t. He was only fishing.”

“And you couldn’t get that cleared up?” one of the MPs said.

I shrugged. “Too much going on, those days.”

“Yeah, I was at Schofield that day. That was a scary time.”

I nodded. “Most of the fishermen got rounded up. But they were just peaceful working guys.”

“Huh,” the big haole said. “Wilson made a different story out of it.”

“He’s got a private war with me,” I said.

“Why?”

“Ask him.”

“Nah. So, how you going to float that boat, that’s what I want to know?”

Calvin wagged his eyebrows. “Watch.”

All along the edge of the canal a line of soldiers and sailors and the two MPs and even Keet’s guys stood talking while me, Billy, Mose, Rico, Ben, and Calvin went to work. Fumi was the queen, surrounded by Suzy and her customers, laughing and joking like they were at a Hotel Street party. All we needed was the food and drinks and maybe some music.

Two sailors who knew about compressors asked if they could man it while we were in the water. “All these guys will help,” one said. “Just ask.”

With all these people we could probably all just get in the water and lift the boat up! “Thanks,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” He squatted down by the compressor, checked the gas tank, then started it up. It sprang to life, making a terrible racket. You probably could’ve heard it all the way up in the mountains. The sailor nodded to the other guy to run the air hose out to us.

“Good to go!” he shouted.

Mose and Rico jumped in and took up their positions on the port side of the
Taiyo Maru.
Ben and Calvin followed, swimming over to the starboard side.

Billy and I took the air hose and swam it out.

“Do a little on one side, a little on the other,” Billy said. “Back and forth so we don’t tip the boat over.”

“Yeah, if it flips, it’s as good as gone. For us, anyway.”

“I’ll guide you,” he said.

“Teamwork.”

“Like always, huh? The Rats.”

I grinned. “The Rats.”

Billy and I swam the hose over to Mose and Rico’s side.

“Cross your fingers.” We took a deep breath, dove under, and fixed the air hose to the inflation manifold.

I came up and waved to the guys at the compressor. “Let ‘er rip!”

The air hose leaped.

Air raced into the pontoon tube, the rubbery canvas writhing open. Yes! Yes!

Mose dove under to hold the air hose in place while Billy came up for air. “It’s working!” he called to shore.

A cheer erupted. Fumi beamed down on us as if we were her own kids.

When the port pontoon was a quarter full, Billy ran a finger across his throat. I unhitched the air hose and swam it over to the starboard side.

Back and forth, back and forth.

The pontoons fattening.

Filling.

More.

More.

Slowly, the hull began to rise.

Even from shore they saw it shift, saw the pilot house come up out of the rusty water, saw the
Taiyo Maru
rising from its watery grave, and that was the best part, because now those sailors and army soldiers and the two MPs, and even Keet’s warriors, were all cheering and clapping for every inch. Across the way, even, on the Waikiki side of the canal, another crowd was growing, coming out of the houses to see what was going on.

Slowly, the
Taiyo Maru
rose back into this world.

Not all the way, because it was full of water.

But it was enough.

Enough!

The pontoon tubes lifted the wheelhouse clear out of the water.

An inch still washed over the decking, but the gunnels breathed clean fresh air for the first time since the
Taiyo Maru
had gone down.

And the hull floated free.

Me, Billy, Mose, Rico, Ben, and Calvin climbed aboard and stood ankle-deep on deck with our fists in the air, the crowd clapping and hooting down on us.

We did it!

While all that celebrating was going on, I glanced down the canal toward the ocean. A boat was working its way up-river.

I squinted.

What?

Closer, closer.

No. Can’t be. But how—

Standing on the bow of a boat half the size of the
Taiyo Maru
was Grampa Joji. Behind him were two Kaka’ako boys—Ichiro Frankie Fujita and Herbie Okubo.

So
Herbie
was the boy Grampa went to get. You crabby, grumpy, cranky, brilliant old goat. A lump grew in my throat as I watched them ease toward us, the engine tok-tok-tokking on water as smooth as silk.

Herbie waved, walking his boat up. “Need a tow?”

I was too choked up to answer, so I nodded and tapped Billy to answer for me. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.

Herbie edged the boat in closer and put it in neutral, let it glide the rest of the way. Bow bumped bow.

Ichiro, or I should say Frankie, handed a coiled rope forward to Grampa on the bow. Grampa tossed it to me. I caught it and pulled Herbie’s boat alongside the
Taiyo Maru.

“Ojii-chan,” I said, then couldn’t go on.

“Unnnh.”

I motioned for him to step over onto Papa’s sampan. “Come, Ojii-chan,” I managed to say. “Ride with us.”

Herbie handed Grampa the katana, which was on deck near his feet.

Grampa nodded, a slight bow, rare for an old man to give a boy.

Ben and Calvin jumped off and swam to shore.

“Boy,” Fumi called. “Wait for me … I be right back.” She grabbed one of the sailors and scurried back toward the trees and the street.

Grampa Joji stepped over onto the
Taiyo Maru
and
slogged through the water to the wheelhouse. The look on his face was as always, blank and stern. As he passed by he tapped my shoulder, not even glancing at me.

I breathed deep and turned away.

Fumi came hurrying back, with the sailor carrying two rickety wooden chairs. She must know everyone on this island, I thought.

“Suzy,” she called. “Go home the solja boys. They take good care of you.”

Suzy waved her off. “Don’t worry, Aunty. I’ll be fine.”

Fumi glanced at the sailor, hooking her thumb at Suzy. “You watch out her, ah?”

The sailor nodded.

Fumi turned to Ben and Calvin. “You … big boys. Take me and this chairs to the boat.”

Calvin grinned and took the chairs, handed them to Ben, who waded out, then swam them to the
Taiyo Maru.
Mose took them aboard and set them up on the deck.

Calvin went back to shore.

“Okay, old lady. Your turn.”

“Who you calling old lady?”

Calvin tipped his head to the side, quick-thinking. “I said that? I never said that.” Fumi rapped his head with her knuckles, making Calvin grin.

She sat between Ben and Calvin, who stood shoulder to shoulder. They swam her out and lifted her aboard, soaked to her waist.

“No worry about the compressor and the pontoons,” Calvin said to me. “We take um home. Talk later, ah?”

“Yeah,” I squeaked. I reached down to shake his hand.

Calvin reached up and shook, then slapped the gunnel. “Take her home, skippa.”

Me, Billy, Mose, and Rico climbed over onto Herbie’s small sampan.

“Rico,” I said. “Go up the bow, lead the way. You paid the most for this.”

Rico saluted and crabbed his way forward to stand on the bow, like Sanji used to. He turned back and grinned.

“Look at that fool,” Mose said.

“If he’s a fool, then I want to be one too,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Herbie powered forward, easing the boat away, heading toward the ocean and Kewalo Basin.

I turned and stood with my hands on my hips, looking back at Fumi and Grampa Joji sitting side by side in those rickety chairs, facing into the breeze. The katana lay across Ojii-chan’s knees, his face expressionless. If I didn’t know him I’d have thought he was angry. But that cranky look was just his way of looking peaceful. He was content. Even with the bent katana.

I frowned. How many more battles stood between me and the day Papa would finally come home? And what about Grampa Joji? Would he stay strong? And then there was Keet Wilson. Who could get us kicked out of our home.

I closed my eyes. So much trouble I had caused for my family. Was all this worth it?
Papa?

When I opened my eyes Ojii-chan was staring at me, as if he’d been reading my mind. His scowl and unwavering eyes said,
No matter what comes, boy, we going be all right.

I waved.

Fumi waved back, smiling. Ojii-chan managed to lift his chin.

Herbie laughed. “Your grampa, he’s tough.”

“The toughest guy I know,” I said.

Herbie nodded. “No worry, ah? We can bring that boat back to life.”

“We just did, Herbie … we just did.”

Grampa shooed us on with his wrinkled skeleton hand, waving us out toward the sea.

“We going, old man,” I called. “Confonnit!”