Caged Eagles (18 page)

I shook my head in disbelief. How could people not want to get involved in something that was their whole life? It was almost as if nobody cared.

My father is typical of how they're acting. He walks around with his eyes on the ground. Best I can make out he feels shamed by his treatment. Can you imagine that? These people make us leave our homes, and he figures he should feel ashamed! The people who should feel ashamed are those politicians who ordered our internment and the RCMP officers who did it. So much for democracy and the British sense of fair play. Can you tell me where the fairness is?

I almost would have liked the censors to read that! Maybe they'd obliterate the words with thick black ink so Jed couldn't read it, but at least for a few seconds they'd have to think about it, and know what I'd written was right.

I don't know for sure, but I figure there must be close to three thousand people living here. They cook big meals for all of us. There's only a couple of showers and a few more washrooms for the whole place.

There isn't much to do. When the weather changes there'll be more things. There's a baseball diamond, and a soccer field. Fortunately, or maybe not so fortunately, we probably won't be here when that happens.

I stopped and took a deep breath. Where would we be? New Denver or Alberta or where? Part of me wanted to stop the letter right there. The terrible danger was that if I asked him a question about my house he might give me an answer — an answer I didn't want to hear. But I guessed I had to. For better or worse, I needed to know.

There's lots of rumors going around. I heard they're going to ship us across Canada, away from the coast. Another rumor is that we're bound for Japan. Some other people said the war will be over before spring comes and they'll let us go home. Another rumor is that we don't even have homes to go to, that our homes are being taken apart by looters. Other talk is that we don't even own the homes anymore, that the government is taking them away. Who knows? It would make me feel better if you could just go by my place and make sure everything is okay. You can write me back at Hastings Park Exhibition Building, Vancouver. Please tell me how you're doing and how things are going around Rupert.

Your friend always,
Tadashi

There, done! I folded the letter in two and was just about to stuff it into the envelope when I remembered something else Sam had mentioned, about them keeping a big book of all mail going in and out of the camp. I unfolded the letter and picked up my pen again.

p.s. You'll get another letter from me in a day. That's so the censors will see me writing to you and won't get suspicious when you write back.

Was there anything else I should write? Maybe I should just remind him that he had to be careful what he wrote back to me.

p.p.s. Be careful what you write. They read all the letters coming in as well as going out.

p.p.p.s. They've got me acting like I really am a spy.

I put down my pen and folded the letter for the second time, slipped it into the envelope and licked the flap, sealing it in place. For better or worse, this letter was finished. Now all that had to happen was for it to be mailed. I tucked the envelope into the front left pocket of my pants.

I got up and looked down the aisle toward the washroom. There was no sign of my mother and grandmother. They'd been gone for over thirty minutes. That probably said something about the lineup and the number of people who were also sick. I would have liked to have said something to them before I left, but I only had a few minutes until I was supposed to meet Sam. I just didn't have time to wait. They'd be back soon and they knew I was leaving. When I'd told my mother what I had in mind, I had the feeling that she wasn't too happy, but she didn't voice any objection. I think she was worried about my father too.

I took one last look at my sisters, peacefully sleeping in the darkened stall. There was just enough light still streaming in for me to see their faces.

“Good night, girls,” I said softly.

“Good night, Tadashi,” came back a little voice.

“Yuri … what are you doing still awake?” I asked.

“I was asleep. I woke up,” she whispered.

“Try to get back to sleep,” I said as I tucked in the edge of her blankets.

“I've been trying, but I've got too many thoughts in my head.”

“Thoughts about what?” I asked. I wondered if she was worried about grandmother.

“I was thinking about living here.”

I was surprised. I didn't think it was something she gave any thought to at all.

“Do you think we'll be staying here a long time?” Yuri asked.

“Not long. Some people have already been moved out. Don't worry, we'll be gone soon.”

“But I don't want to go,” she said.

Her words caught me completely off guard. “You want to stay here?”

She nodded her head.

“But why?”

“I like it.”

“What exactly is it that you like?” I asked.

“I have friends to play with and I get to go to school.”

“You'll have friends wherever we go and there'll always be a school.”

“I like
these
friends and
this
school,” she said emphatically.

I wanted to say something about how she might not like this school so much after the first day, but I didn't.

“But what about living here,” I said, motioning around with my hands, “in a cattle stall?”

“It's good.”

“What could you find good about this?” I asked.

“All our things are here … it looks pretty … I have my dolls … and I like that everybody is so close when we sleep … not like in the house we used to have.”

“What do you mean ‘used to have'?” I demanded. Of course, I knew what she meant, but I didn't like to hear it described that way. It was still our house.

“In our old house. I used to get scared at night and there was nobody there but Midori. Now Mother's right here, and Grandmother and you.”

“But not Father.”

“He could come, there's enough space,” Yuri said. “Do you see the way I always sleep at the edge of my mattress?”

I'd never noticed before, but she was lying on the very outside of the bed, almost balanced on the edge, as if she was trying to get as far away as she could from

Midori, sleeping with her.

“There's room. They could let him stay with us.”

“It's not that simple. All the men have to stay together … as long as we live here.”

“And if we live someplace else?” she asked.

“I don't know. Maybe the fathers can be with their families. I don't know.”

Yuri took a deep breath and a loud sigh came out of her. “If Father could live with us, then maybe I could make new friends.”

I reached out and stroked her head. “Of course you could. But right now I think you need to get to sleep.

You have a big day tomorrow at school. Do you have your dollies?”

With one hand she pulled down the blanket to reveal all three dolls tucked under her other arm.

“Good. Now all
four
of you get to bed.” I paused. “All right?”

“I'll go to sleep. Can you say hello to Daddy for me?”

“Of course,” I said as I pulled up her blanket and she snuggled down under the covers.

It was time to go. I got up and started off. I knew if I didn't leave now, not only would I be late for the meeting with Sam, but it would be harder to get out of the building. The soldier on duty here in the building usually began his patrols at around eleven.

I walked in the direction of the washrooms. There was a small exit at the back of the building. It didn't seem wise to go out through the big front door. As I neared the washrooms I saw the reason why my mother and grandmother hadn't returned yet. Despite the late hour there was still a lineup. Obviously, there were a lot of people not feeling well. I hurried past them and along the back corridor.

The door was far enough from the washrooms for nobody to really notice me — somehow it seemed better to leave without being seen by anybody. I pushed down on the handle and the door opened with a noisy groan that sent a shiver down my spine. I looked around. Anybody who might have heard the noise was lying in the darkened stalls. I stepped out and was relieved to find that the door was nestled amongst bushes and trees. I closed the door behind me, slowly, so that the groan would be muffled. It sealed with just a click. I looked at the outside of the door. There was no handle or doorknob. It was meant as an exit, but not an entrance. When I came back it wouldn't be this way.

Slowly I moved through the bushes. Before breaking through into the open I looked out, scanning the grounds for any motion. I couldn't see anything, but that wasn't surprising. It was dark. The only light was from the few lampposts placed at intervals along the path that ran through the grounds.

Moving beyond cover I felt very exposed. It was dark, but I didn't know who else might be hiding in the dark. I moved quickly, crossing the path at a point as far as possible from the lights. I took a deep breath when I reached the shelter of the shadows of the next building. It was a large warehouse, and one of the few buildings that hadn't been converted to hold people — at least, not yet.

I moved along the side of the building. Right around the back of it was a thicket of bushes coming up almost to the edge of the building. Once I got within the cover of the bushes I'd be safe from any patrols. I started to run, not just because I was late, but to get into the cover as soon as possible. I walked along the building with the wall protecting me on one side and the bushes on the other. As I moved I couldn't help but think about the last time I'd been out on my own at night.

It was the night before my family had to leave our village, when Jed and I had tromped over ten miles through the dense forest, dodging army patrols, on our way to the military base. Just like tonight, we'd had to avoid the guards. I'd felt braver then, with Jed at my side, even though where we were — in the middle of a forest — and what we were doing — trying to free the eagle — was far more dangerous than this.

I couldn't help but think that thanks to me and Jed, that eagle was now flying around the forests on Kairn Island — free. And here I was.

I stopped at the spot where I was to meet Sam.

“Sam!” I called out, trying to be heard but not from too far away.

“Over here,” came back an answer.

I saw a shadowy figure move out of the darkness.

“I didn't think you were coming.”

“I'm not that late. Besides, it's about time I kept you waiting.”

“Maybe, but could it be someplace else than in the dark?” Sam asked.

“What's wrong, you scared of the dark?” I kidded.

“Not the dark, but what's
in
the dark.”

“Monsters? The boogie man?”

“No, animals.”

“Animals! It's not like you're going to find a mountain lion hiding in here, you know,” I chuckled.

“I heard noises.”

“Probably just a skunk or a raccoon.”

“A skunk! Let's not give it a chance to come back.

Let's go.”

I wasn't concerned about any skunk, but I was eager to get going and see my father.

Sam almost immediately headed out of the bushes and onto a path that cut straight across the compound and toward the men's building. Shouldn't we be staying in the shadows? I looked all around anxiously. There was nobody to be seen. I couldn't help but think how nervous Sam felt about being alone in the dark, and how I felt that way about being here in the open where one of the guards could see us.

I thought I heard faint strains of music wafting through the night air. Where would that be coming from? Nearing the building I got my answer. The music was f lowing out one of the doors that was propped open with a chair.

“I didn't expect music,” I said.

“Sometimes it goes on for most of the night.”

Sam moved through the door and I followed. I felt a huge sense of relief stepping inside the building and away from the guards.

In the dim light I could clearly make out the rows of bunk beds stretching into the distance. The music was now louder, and it was punctuated by bursts of conversation, laughter and some profanity, in both English and Japanese. Many of the beds were empty, their occupants still awake. There were men strolling down the aisles, a group standing over in the corner, talking loudly — not arguing; they sounded like they were happy.

I sniffed the air. There was a strong, almost sickeningly sweet odor. “What is that smell?” I asked.

“That's the still.”

“Still?”

“It's what they use to make alcohol.”

“They're making alcohol?” I asked in amazement.

“Lots and lots of it.”

“How do you make alcohol?”

“I don't understand it much myself, but they make it out of things like potato peelings.”

“Come on, you can't make —”

I stopped as I remembered my one taste of a strong Japanese drink made from fermented potatoes. I'd had a couple of little sips once from a bottle my father used to keep in the pantry.

There was a burst of loud voices and laughter. “People seem awfully happy,” I said.

Sam shrugged. “Probably been drinking.”

We followed the sound of the voices, and they led us to where six men were sitting in a corner around a table, playing cards. Each man had a drink at his side.

Sam was right about the alcohol. The deck was shuffled, cards dealt and each man put some bills into the center of the table.

“Poker,” Sam said. “I've never been here without seeing a game. My father said there's gambling going on twenty-four hours a day.”

“My father doesn't even play cards,” I said.