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Authors: M.H. Sargent

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BOOK: Toward Night's End
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He looked at her, then shrugged. The island wasn’t that big. They should be able to track him down.

But after searching the island for over two hours, there had been no sign of Matthew or the truck. It was as if both had vanished into thin air. Porter had half a mind to tell the Army that a Jap had run off, and let them find him. But as angry as he was about his truck, he had always liked Matthew. The boy was decent enough. Always paid him right on time for the use of the truck and paid for the petrol he used. It seemed silly to Porter that Matthew insisted on taking his catch over to the mainland instead of taking it by boat to the south-end fishery. But Porter was actually making decent money, and the truck was not accumulating that many miles. So he decided to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. He wouldn’t contact the police or the Army. Not yet, anyway.

When they had come back to the Kobata house later that morning, both were hopeful that Matthew would be there and give a full account of his disappearing act. But no such luck. Porter had told Kumiko to send Daniel over on his bike as soon as Matthew showed up. And he agreed that, if Matthew brought the truck back, he’d give the young man a ride back to the house. He knew it was only a matter of hours before they were to be deported.

***

“I’m hungry,” she heard Ido complain again, this time with an angry tone. What did he expect? They had carefully used up most of their remaining food. They were supposed to be on the ferry right now, not having lunch at their own home.

“There are some carrots in the basket,” she yelled down to him. The few food items that they hadn’t consumed she had already packed in a wicker basket. She had a slight tinge of guilt – she should go downstairs and get the carrots for him. He had been despondent ever since he had given his beloved cat “Osco” to a neighbor girl. But the rules were very strict. No pets.

Of course, that black and white cat was more than a pet. Strange as it might seem to some, the cat seemed to know that Ido was blind. The two were inseparable, the cat acting as his pair of eyes, gently bumping him on the legs if he strayed off course.

“Where’s the basket?” Ido impatiently asked in his native tongue.

“Here, Ojichan,” she heard Julia say, referring to her grandfather using the traditional Japanese expression.

Just then, Kumiko heard a loud truck approach and anxiously moved the curtain aside to look out. But it wasn’t Matthew. It was a large Army truck. Half a dozen armed soldiers quickly hopped from the back and took up positions around the house.

 

Chapter Two
 
Bainbridge Island, Washington. March 30, 1942
 

His first realization upon awakening from a hazy fog was that he was alive. He knew this because his head throbbed relentlessly. Curled in a fetal position, he had no idea where he was, and in a moment of sheer panic tried to lift his head, but the pain was excruciating, making him cry out in surprise.

“God, I thought you were dead,” said a voice in the distance somewhere.

His chest tightened defensively as he anxiously glanced around. He was inside some sort of dark building, a trace of light filtering through the wood slat walls, but not enough to let him see his surroundings clearly. He tried to sit up, but discovered his wrists and ankles were bound by a thick rope. At the same moment a stabbing pain shot throughout his head, like a spiked pinball ricocheting through his brain. He involuntarily moaned in agony and lay back in defeat.

“Easy, you’re not going anywhere,” the voice warned him. He realized the person was behind him.

Moving ever so slowly, Matthew rolled over. He saw that he was lying on some straw. Squinting at the shadows before him, he could now make out a dark figure a few feet away. He sat with his back up against the wood wall, his knees tucked up to his chest. Like him, the man’s wrists and ankles were bound by ropes. Then he realized it was Tom. But it hadn’t sounded like Tom. Matthew thought this was quite strange, but then it dawned on him that the beating he took must have affected his hearing. But it was indeed Tom. He recognized the familiar way his best friend always twirled a pen or small stick from one finger to the next. Right now he was using a piece of straw for his dexterity aerobics.

“What happened?” Matthew squeaked, his voice not sounding like his own.

“They got everything,” Tom answered simply.

Matthew was having trouble absorbing what he was being told. “Who...? Who are they?”

“No idea. At first I thought Army, you know, like Army police or something.”

No, Matthew thought, as he remembered the two men who jumped him in the truck. They weren’t Army. He studied his friend. “You okay?”

“The big guy got a few hits in, but I’m fine.”

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could now see that Tom’s face was a mess. One eye was swollen shut. His nose had probably been broken since his upper lip and chin were covered in dried blood. “You look great,” Matthew said. Tom actually smiled at the comment. There was silence for a few moments. Then Matthew asked, “Where are we?”

A shrug, then, “I was blindfolded. My guess, an abandoned barn.”

“On the mainland?”

“No, we never left the island. That I do know.”

That was good, thought Matthew as he slowly tried to piece everything together. “Where were you?”

“About thirty yards away from the drop point. Where I was supposed to be. Waiting and watching.”

After digesting this for a minute, Matthew told his friend, “You shouldn’t have tried to take them on.”

Tom chuckled. “Wasn’t my plan. Saw them clobber you, so I tried to get a better look. Stepped on a dead branch. Boy did it snap. I tried to run, but that big guy? He was on me before I got maybe twenty feet.”

“Just the two of them?”

“I think so.”

As Matthew mulled this over, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be on the ferry today. He started to panic. He had to be on the ferry. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice raised with concern.

“Not yet noon,” Tom answered. He nodded in the direction of the light seeping through the wood planks. “Not directly overhead yet. I’d guess it’s ten, maybe.”

Matthew’s next thought was Mr. Porter’s truck. As if reading his mind, Tom said, “They put us in the back of a car. Tied me up. Then tossed you on top of me, and a blanket over both of us. I couldn’t see anything. One of them drove the truck. I could hear it behind us for a while. Then nothing. It turned off somewhere.” Disgusted, he tossed the piece of straw aside. “I thought you were dead. Swear to God,” he said, his voice cracking.

Feeling tears well up in his eyes, Tom angrily kicked his shackled feet at a small pile of loose straw in front of him, connecting with something that made a distinctive clank sound that made Tom yelp in surprise. Instinctively drawing his feet back, Tom cupped the hurt foot in his hands. “Dammit!”

“What was that?” Matthew asked.

“My foot, dammit!” Tom told him.

“No, you hit something!” Not waiting for an answer, Matthew quickly dug his elbows and knees into the straw, slithering across the floor. Tom soon forgot about his foot and scooted himself forward. Matthew dug through the disheveled straw with his bound hands. Then he felt it. Anxiously tossing aside the straw, Matthew grabbed it. An old scythe. It was over a foot long, curving like a sliver of the moon. Matthew looked up at Tom with a grin.

***

How much crazier could it get, thought Donald. The newly arrived reinforcements had been told to spread out around the house, but to keep their weapons in check. That hadn’t gone over well with Private Hines who had been quick to remind him that Mrs. Kobata had said she had a gun. Though the family had failed to comply with his order to vacate the house, he had gotten Mrs. Kobata to communicate her concerns that Matthew had been in an accident. He then contacted the local hospital and was told that the only Japanese to have been admitted over the past two days was a child with a broken arm.

And now a stupid black and white cat was scratching at the front door, howling in anger for entry. This made some of the men laugh, but not Donald. He was too worried about how they would get the family out without breaking down the door and using their guns. It was unthinkable. These people knew they had to go. It didn’t matter that Matthew was missing. He had told Mrs. Kobata that the local police were looking for him, but it had now been two hours and there was still no sign of Matthew. Donald presumed that Matthew had taken off for the mainland. Maybe even Canada.

The cat started to howl again, piercing screams that Donald hadn’t known cats were even capable of. But it worked. A moment later the door slowly creaked open, prompting several soldiers to quickly move forward. Their actions spooked the cat into running off. At first Donald was surprised that the soldiers’ advancement on the house hadn’t compelled the inhabitants to slam the door shut. Instead an elderly Japanese man appeared at the open doorway, completely indifferent to the soldiers facing him. In a surprisingly soft voice, he called out, “Osco, Osco.” The soldiers exchanged glances, astounded that the aged man paid them no heed. But Donald soon realized that he was blind. And a moment later the cat reappeared, meowed softly, and headed toward the elderly man.

Donald waved the others to remain still as he approached.

“Sir, my name is Donald Bollgen. Lieutenant, United States Army. We have orders to take you to the Keholoken ferry. I’m sure you know that. I need you to come with us now,” Donald instructed the old man.

But the old man ignored him. Donald briefly wondered if he was deaf as well as blind, but then remembered that cat’s raucous meows had prompted the old man to open the door. The cat now rubbed against the man’s legs, and Donald was surprised by how fast the older man stooped down and picked it up. “Sir, we need to go,” Donald tried again.

The elderly man tarried for a moment, then started for the porch steps. Private Hines hurried to assist him, but Donald waved him off. Donald correctly assumed that the old man had negotiated the stairs many times before. Sure enough, the steps were easily traversed.

“Mr. Kobata! Mr. Kobata! You found Osco!” shouted a young girl, running toward the house.

The old man stiffened at the sound of her voice. Donald quickly waved to the three soldiers between Ido Kobata and the child. “Keep her away!” he told them. One of the soldiers obeyed and swiftly blocked her path.

“He has my cat! Osco’s my cat! He can’t take her! Osco’s mine!” the girl protested.

Donald had no idea if small pets were allowed to travel with their owners or not, but he knew the cat was the only reason one of the Kobatas had stepped outside, and he wasn’t ready to lose his advantage. He turned to Corporal Jenkins. “Get him in the back of the truck, and let him keep the cat.”

Jenkins looked surprised. “He can’t take it.”

“Right now, he can,” Donald replied with authority.

Jenkins hesitated. “Yes, sir.”

The front door remained open, and Donald quickly approached, his pistol still holstered. But several soldiers were right behind him, their guns ready. As he stepped through the door, he waved the others back.

At first, he didn’t see anyone. Then he saw a young girl sitting on the floor playing with paper dolls. She must be Matthew’s sister, Julia, thought Donald. Mrs. Kobata then appeared, walking straight toward him with her head down. She looked up, saw him, and stopped short. They simply stared at each other for a minute. “Your father heard the cat,” he explained. “Scratching on the door. He went out to get him.”

It seemed to take her a minute to understand, then he could’ve sworn she was about to smile. Instead, she just shook her head and murmured, “That cat....”

“Your father—”

“Father-in-law,” she corrected him.

“Sorry. Anyway, he’s in the transport truck.”

“The police?” she asked with some hope.

“No sign of Matthew yet. I’m sorry.”

She studied him for a moment. “You and Matthew in school together, yes?”

“Until he—”

She just nodded. For a minute or two they both just stood there. Finally, she turned to her daughter who ignored both of them, concentrating on her paper dolls. After what seemed like an eternity to Donald, she finally turned back to him and asked, “The police, they will find him? Then you will make sure he is brought to us? His family?”

“You have my word, ma’am.”

She stared at him as if she could see right into his heart to discern if he was telling the truth. Then she abruptly clapped her hands several times and bellowed out, “Daniel, time now!”

Julia was clearly surprised, her paper dolls momentarily forgotten. “Are we going?”

Kumiko looked to Donald for confirmation. “You give your word?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With that, she gave a brief nod to Julia and moved to the foot of the stairs. “Daniel! Time now! Time to go!”

Julia enthusiastically leaped to her feet and headed to a suitcase that Donald hadn’t noticed before. It was bigger than she was, and Donald quickly went over and picked it up.

“I have three dolls inside,” Julia eagerly told him, keeping pace with him as he headed for the front door, lest he leave it behind.

“What about Matthew?” Donald heard from another voice. He turned and saw the 14-year old Daniel leaning over the banister halfway down the stairs glaring at his mother.

“He will meet us there,” she told him firmly. “Get your things.” Daniel stared at her, then angrily stomped upstairs.

Donald found himself studying Mrs. Kobata. Finally, she said, “He only upset to leave his friends. I tell him it won’t be long and we’ll be home.”

Donald wasn’t sure how to respond. No one knew how long the Japanese would be forced off the island, nor where they were being taken. But he just nodded and headed out the door with the large suitcase.

***

Both Tom and Matthew were exhausted. They hadn’t had any food or drink since early the night before, and with their injuries, cutting through the thick ropes with the old rusted scythe had taken a considerable amount of energy.

BOOK: Toward Night's End
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