Barbed Wire and Cherry Blossoms (22 page)

Mary is smiling to herself when she sees her mother looking in her direction. Joan is aware that Mary has done the food drop off, and links her daughter's beaming face to the man they're hiding. Joan would like to do the drop offs
herself but she knows, they all know, that there is more suspicion to be raised by an adult walking back and forth around the place than a young person. The young people are always out and about.

‘Where's your father?' she asks Mary.

‘Sitting on our verandah smoking with the other men,' Mary answers calmly, not wanting to give away the fact that her heart is still beating too fast for the rest of her body to catch up.

‘Okay, let's play,' Marj says authoritively, bringing everyone's attention to the game and dealing the cards.

As usual, it's more of a gossip session than anything else, and before the first game is over, Marj begins in her standard way: ‘You know I'm not one to gossip.' She says it so seriously she almost convinces the others it's true. Marj looks at her hand, then at Ivy and Joan. She lowers her voice and leans into the table, almost whispering, as though someone outside might hear her. ‘But I heard on the grapevine that there's a woman in town who is pregnant to an Italian soldier.' Marj shakes her head in disapproval. ‘
Apparently
he did her gardens and taught her how to make spaghetti for her rabbit stew.'

‘Sounds like he did more than her gardens.' Ivy chokes with laughter as she speaks. Joan chuckles but Marj isn't impressed.

‘What's spaghetti?' Mary asks. No one really knows as they've not tasted it before.

‘Obviously they're not married but
apparently
they're in love.' Marj shakes her head in disapproval again. ‘Silly girl.
Why would you bother falling in love with a soldier from another country,
and
who's a prisoner of war?'

That last line makes Mary's ears prick up. She starts to worry, and wonders if Aunty Marj knows about Hiroshi; after all, she seems to know everything about everyone else, on and off the mission. She tries not to react in any way and pretends to be focused on entertaining the smaller girls, who are playing with dolls. But she keeps one ear on the conversation to see how the other women, especially her mum, react.

Ivy wears a cheeky grin that she is trying to force into a serious face so as not to annoy Marj, who is scowling. ‘Yes, I did hear the same thing,' Ivy says, ‘but to my mind, the Italians seem like very happy men, and that would be an attraction for any woman.'

‘They are philanderers!' Marj states aggressively, as if she is the judge, jury and executioner. ‘Sid doesn't like them either. He says they are doing the farming out at Mulyan and the vegies from there go to Edgell's, so they are taking jobs from locals.
And
he says they are too smarmy.' No one believes what Marj says about Sid, because he's the nicest fella, but they are careful about contradicting her. Not many people argue with Marj.

‘I don't know,' Joan says, not wanting confrontation, but also knowing that the general feeling around town is that the Italians are trustworthy. ‘Most people say the Italians can be trusted, they don't even have any supervision most of the time.'

‘That's right! No supervision, then girls get pregnant.' Marj tut-tuts and places a card on the table aggressively.

‘And what about that one fella who got back to the camp too late and the gates were locked and he was knocking to get back in,' Ivy pipes up, laughing as she talks. ‘Have you ever heard of anyone trying to break
in
to a prison camp? Never in my life.' She slaps her thigh.

‘They sound like a funny lot.' Joan is chuckling with Ivy but Marj isn't buying into the humour of the situation. ‘And I'm told they can sing too.'

‘So can
our
men. Isn't that right, Mary?' Marj says, attempting to garner support away from the table.

Mary smiles. Everyone knows the Williams men can play guitars and banjos and sing up a storm.

Joan jumps in: ‘No one can compare to our fellas, but I have seen some of the Italians in church. They sing beautifully and they are also okay on the eye.'

‘Mum!' Mary says, thinking it's wrong for her mother to even joke about looking at other men.

‘What? My girl, I'm at church when I see these God-fearing men – at least they're Catholic. Did you know they have their own chaplain in the camp? They get to go to church more than I can.'

Mary knows now that her fears about Hiroshi being Japanese, a soldier and not Catholic are well founded. Her smile has disappeared as she thinks about how many obstacles they will face when the war is over and they want to be together. All of a sudden it seems nearly impossible.

Mary's thoughts are interrupted when Marj continues, ‘Someone else told someone else who told
me
that rumour has it that the Japanese had threatened to castrate the Italians if they didn't participate in the breakout.'

Joan looks at Marj and nods in Mary's direction, wondering if her daughter knows what castrate means, and hoping she doesn't have to explain it.

Ivy is chuckling again. ‘Well, that would've been a tragedy for the Italians, wouldn't it? I mean, if they are philanderers and all.' She laughs harder and Joan manages a giggle too.

‘I thought we were playing cards,' Marj says in a serious voice, cutting off the conversation.

The Williams family are sitting down to breakfast on Easter Sunday, eating quietly as Joan is saying the Rosary. She won't go to Mass today because only white people go to church on Easter Sunday and Christmas Day.

Mary waits till dark, when the women are playing cards again, to take the food to Hiroshi. She's tells her mother she's going to bed early to read, but Joan knows what that means. Although it's not a full moon, Mary still searches for the rabbit he has told her about. She tells herself she can see it, because she so desperately wants to. To see the rabbit once more would connect her to Hiroshi via the sky again. She wants to experience his culture. She wants to experience the rabbit in the moon again, but the only rabbit close right now is the stew she carries with a potato for him. There is a little more than usual so she feels like it's a hearty Easter celebration, even though he doesn't celebrate Easter. She wonders if he will kiss her again. She hopes so. There is a feeling that the
kiss creates that nothing else does and she wants to feel that again. But there hasn't been the chance till now. Mary has been paranoid not to draw attention to her infatuated self, but tonight, she is filled with anticipation.

‘Hello!' she says when she reaches the bottom of the ladder. ‘Happy Easter!' Mary cheerfully hands over the food, trying to get the official side of her visit out of the way so they can really talk.

‘Arigat-o,' he says, taking the parcel from her hands, holding his glance a little longer than is usual, and making Mary blush. ‘Mary,' he says softly. ‘Sometimes I sit here at night, counting the hours down until you will come back, and it is hard to believe that in the middle of this war, so far away from my family, hiding down here . . .' He pauses. ‘I can't believe . . .' He stops. ‘You make me smell cherry blossoms when there are none here,' he continues eventually. ‘When there is only dirt and dampness.' He pauses again, takes a breath and says, ‘Arigat-o. Thank you for the food, but for so much more.'

Mary likes that Hiroshi looks at her with a new warmth and hopefulness in his eyes. But she blushes at his words and tries to camouflage the awkwardness with talk. ‘I know you're not Christian but does anyone in Japan celebrate Easter? Do you know what it is?'

‘My family does not celebrate Easter, but those who do call it fukkatsu-sai.'

‘Fukkatsu-sai,' Mary repeats.

‘It was a long day waiting for you,' Hiroshi says softly. ‘I mean, longer than usual.'

Mary understands but doesn't know what to do next or
what to say, and is there any point?
Why couldn't Hiroshi be Italian?
she thinks suddenly.

‘I really can't stay,' she says nervously, more conscious than ever before of how it will look to the outside world if she is found walking around when she told the women she was going to bed. She has become worried about everything: the neighbours finding out about Hiroshi; her parents finding out about their kiss and her feelings; her dreams about marrying Hiroshi not coming true. Heat rushes up her neck and over her face. ‘I must go.'

Hiroshi takes her hand gently and says, ‘If I cannot be in Japan, then this is where I want to be.'

Mary cannot think of anything to say. Could it be true that a man would rather be under the ground at Erambie with her if he had the chance to be somewhere else? No one has ever said such things to her before, but she believes him and her heart sings because of his words. She leaves, feeling a level of contentment she has never known before.

‘Mum, Mum, Mum!' James flies into the room and straight to his mother's side. ‘There's the biggest spider in the world in Cowra and it's eating chickens.' He's talking so fast and is so scared he nearly loses his breath. ‘It's a lady spider and Uncle Kevin said it could eat little children too.'

Kevin strolls in as if on cue as Joan tries to calm James down. ‘Don't go scaring the goothas with silly stories, Kev.'
Joan isn't happy that her brother-in-law has frightened her son to the verge of tears. ‘You know there's enough of our own stories to keep them in line without chicken-eating spiders too.' She shakes her head, never surprised at the lengths he will go to entertain, scare or educate the local kids.

‘It's no story, Joan,' he says, handing over the paper he picked up at Ryan's Place, where he'd stopped for a yarn. ‘Look,' he says, pointing to the headline, C
HICKEN
-K
ILLING
S
PIDER
I
DENTIFIED
A
S
A G
IANT
F
EMALE
T
RAPDOOR
. He raises an eyebrow and runs his fingers over James's head, pretending to be a spider. The child jumps right back up onto his mother's hip and almost out of his skin.

‘Stop it!' Joan yells. ‘It's not funny to scare kids like that. I'll have him awake with nightmares because of you.'

Chastised, Kevin leans over and takes the lad from his mother, swinging him up on his shoulders. ‘He's all right, aren't you, little man?'

‘Look, Mum, I'm taller than everyone!'

Joan reaches her hand out to touch her son's cheek and goes back to reading how a spider had mauled two chickens on a Cowra farm, leaving her with worry on her mind. The only reason she is happy about this story is that it's taken her mind off the war.

April the twenty-fifth is Mary's birthday, but it hasn't been a big deal since she was a little girl. It's also Anzac Day, and that
is
a big deal in Cowra. Many of the Erambie families walk
into town to watch the march to show respect for those who served in the First World War. There are dawn vigils, memorial services and two-up games. Joan says an extra prayer and lights a candle when she goes up to the church on Anzac Day.