War of the Eagles (16 page)

“Come on, Toshio, you stupid goof, I'm right here.

Ya scared? That's it, isn't it, you stupid goof, you're scared!”

Now he looked confused.

“Toshio, nothing but a chicken boy.” I tucked my arms under and started flapping them like they were wings. I strutted my legs, up and down, and made sounds like a chicken. “Toshio is chicken boy, come and get me chicken boy.”

He looked angry and I could see he was fighting against himself to come and get me.

“You got him going, Jed,” Tadi said quietly from behind me. “Make him squirm, really insult him.”

I thought about what I could possibly say to get him going, to make him lose his cool.

Then I remembered the things that soldier had said to Tadashi to get him so mad.

“Toshio is fish-head … little yellow devil … slanty eyes … come on, you stupid little Jap … what a Nip … chicken nip!”

I could see it was working. His eyes became darker and angrier.

“Come on, you chicken … come on slanty eyes …”

Toshio roared with anger and then rushed toward

me. Suddenly, he yelped in pain. He turned part way around. Midori had hit him, across the back of the legs, with a branch. I bet that would put a serious crimp in the marriage plans. I leaped forward while his attention was directed to her and connected with a solid right to his face. He stumbled back and, before he could regain his balance, I hit him with another right. He went down.

I started to move in again. Now that he was down, I wanted to really clean his clock.

“Enough!” my cousin Peter shouted, and all the other yelling stopped. Peter stepped in between us. He was so big he blocked Toshio from my view. He reached over, and with one hand, pulled Toshio to his feet.

“Go,” he quietly instructed and Toshio staggered off, held up on both sides by his friends. He had blood flowing from his nose and mouth. Good! They moved off toward school, followed by a host of others.

I was surrounded by a group of kids, offering me congratulations. I still felt a little woozy. I looked around for Tadashi.

“Where's Tadashi?”

“He went with the others,” Jonnie answered.

Typical Tadashi, I thought, shaking my head. He didn't want to be late for school, so couldn't wait around to help pick up his best friend. Peter made me sit down for a minute to clear my head before he'd let me go. By the time we left, the others were out of sight.

We got to school just at the bell and hurried in to take our seats. I didn't have a chance to talk to anybody.

I took my seat and found I had even more trouble than usual paying attention.

At lunch time I wasn't particularly hungry and had a headache. I asked if I could go to the office and lie down on the couch in the nurse's room. I felt tired and closed my eyes.

“BBBRRRRRIIIINNNGGG!”

My eyes shot open and I caught sight of the clock on the opposite wall. It was 3:35, time to go home. I'd been asleep the entire afternoon!

I hurried down the hall, grabbed my things, and went out to meet Tadashi. He wasn't there. I guessed he thought I'd gone home already. Quickly I moved along the path, hoping to catch him. Within a few minutes I'd caught up to some of the kids from our two villages. I passed kids from Sikima; kids I knew, but nobody spoke to me. They barely said hello. I knew most of the Japanese kids thought Toshio was a jerk, but I seemed to be the one getting the cold shoulder.

Up ahead I saw Tadashi. I broke into a run and called to him. “Tadi!”

He turned around, but then turned back and kept walk–ing. I sprinted up and stopped right beside him, panting.

“Sorry, I wasn't there to meet you,” I apologized.

He walked on without responding. I figured he was mad at me because I'd fought Toshio.

“”I guess I should have listened to you and just ig–nored the jerk,” I offered.

“Did you say ‘the jerk' or ‘the jap?'”

“What?”

“You know, the jap … the nip … the fish-head … yel–low skinned slanty-eyed jap!” He spat out the words. He looked as angry now as Toshio had during the fight.

“But …” I stammered, “I was just trying to get him mad at me.”

“Well, you did that. You got a whole lot of us mad at you!”

“You told me to get him going … I just didn't know what else to say.”

“You could have insulted his mother, or said his father was a drunk or told him you were going to marry Midori! You didn't have to say all that other stuff.”

“You know I didn't mean any of it,” I pleaded. “I was just … I was just … I don't know …” my voice trailed off. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry isn't enough. Go away. I need to be by myself, to think.”

“But, Tadi …”

“Go now, or you'll have to fight another fish-head.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and Tadashi continued to walk. He moved farther and farther away, moving, not looking back. Stunned, I remained frozen in place while he disappeared around a curve in the path.

It didn't make any sense for him to be like that. It wasn't like I'd said any of those things to him. Why was he so mad …?

Injun … red-skin … savage … half-breed. The words came rushing back to me. I'd said the same things I'd had said to me. I felt sick to my stomach. My head spun.

I heard the sounds of kids coming up on the trail behind me. I hurried off. I was too ashamed to talk to anybody. I needed to be alone too.

.12.

“What's wrong?” Naani asked.

I hung my jacket on the hook without answering.

“No use ignoring it. I could feel your spirit's all wrong the instant you put your hand on the door.

What's wrong?”

She was spooky sometimes. “I got into a fist fight on the way to school this morning.”

“And?”

“And what?” I asked.

“And what else … more happened than a fight. Re–member, telling only half the truth is the same as lying, only sneakier.”

I nodded my head. “I said some things during the fight that got Tadashi mad.”

“You were fighting with Tadashi?”

“No, of course not. I was fighting with Toshio.”

“And what did you say?”

“I didn't mean any of it … it was just talk to get Toshio angry.”

“What did you say?” she asked again.

“I insulted the Japanese … called them names.”

She nodded sympathetically and placed her hands on my shoulders. “You made a mistake, Jed.”

“I know … I just feel so … so …”

“Bad? Ashamed? Embarrassed? Sorry?” she offered.

“Yes.”

“Good!”

“Good?” I questioned.

“Yep. Feeling bad when you done wrong is good.

Tomorrow you go talk to your friend. Tell him how you feel, say you's sorry, ask for forgiveness. Is he your friend?”

“I don't know anymore.”

“But was he your friend?” she asked.

“Of course. You know that. The best friend I ever had.”

“If he was your friend, he still be your friend. If every mistake ended a friendship, nobody would ever have a friend.”

I let her words sunk in. She was almost always right.

I believed what she was saying. Or, I just needed to believe.

“Maybe I should go and talk to him now,” I suggested.

“Nah. It too soon and too late.”

“Too soon and too late?”

“Yep. Too soon after the fight, and too late at night.

Let him think. Tomorrow, after both of you have a good sleep and the sun is rising, things will look better. Things always look better in the morning.”

She rose from the table and started the ritual of clearing away the dishes. I helped, and when things were cleaned up, I settled in to do my homework. I decided to turn in early. I was still a little lightheaded.

Besides, sleep was a safe place to escape from a bad day.

The next morning I got up early, ate breakfast, gathered my things and hustled out the door. Naani kidded me that maybe I should fight with Tadashi more often, so she wouldn't have to help me get up. I wasn't counting on my wake-up call from Tadi this morning.

I went to the path and waited. He'd have to come right by me and then I'd make him listen.

I'd decided it wasn't just Tadashi I needed to apolo–gize to, but all the kids, including Toshio. What I did, popping him in the mouth, was okay. What I'd said, popping off my mouth with all that Japanese stuff, was wrong and I'd say so.

I made myself comfortable, slumping against a big rock on the side of the path. The rock blocked the wind and the sun shone down brightly, making it almost warm. I had a book in my backpack, but I thought it was more respectful to just wait in silence. I glanced at my watch. More than twenty minutes had already passed.

I heard voices in the distance. I stood up but then realized they were coming from my village and not from the other direction. It was the little kids, my younger cousins, who always had to leave earlier because they couldn't move as fast. As they passed they offered me hellos and kept on going. Soon I was standing in silence again. The only sound was the wind pulsing through the tree tops.

Before I had a chance to sit down again, others came out of my village. More greetings and invitations to join them were made. I declined. Peter gave me a two-word warning, “No trouble,” before he walked off. More trouble was the last thing I wanted. They disappeared down the path toward school and I glanced again at my watch.

I sat down on the sunny rock to wait. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. I strained my eyes down the path and perked my ears to detect anybody coming. Nothing. I'd give them five more minutes. Then, if I ran really hard, I could still get there on time.

I repeatedly looked at my watch. The seconds turned to a minute and then the minute into five. I had to go. My urge was to run up the trail, to Sikima and away from school, to find them. I knew I couldn't do that. Maybe they'd all left early or for some reason taken a boat in, or something. Anyway, I had to get going. I turned and ran.

I caught up to Jonnie and Peter just as they entered the school yard. They were talking. Actually Jonnie was talking a mile a minute, and Peter was listening or pretending to listen. I walked beside them, panting for breath, after running so hard. We entered school and took our seats.

It was instantly apparent that neither Tadashi, nor anybody else from his village, was at school. I looked around. There wasn't a Japanese kid in the class. What was happening? What was this all about? For a second, one weird second, I wondered if the fight yesterday, and the things I'd said, had caused them all to stay away.

Mrs. James tapped the end of a ruler against the blackboard. This was her signal for quiet. We all stopped shuffling and talking and coughing and listened.

“I have some important news, perhaps some of you have already heard it,” she started, her voice quiver–ing. “On December seventh, last night, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Almost simultane–ously they also launched an attack on the British and Canadian garrisons in Hong Kong. There was a great loss of life. The United States of America, along with Great Britain and, of course, Canada, have declared a state of war with Japan.”

There was a buzz of response as people gasped, mut–tered to themselves or spoke to their neighbors. She tapped the board again. This time nobody responded. She tapped louder and louder without result.

“Please!” she finally shouted, and the room fell silent. “As you will notice, none of your classmates of Japanese origin are present. Their parents have wisely decided to keep them home today. This is fortunate, as I need the opportunity to speak to the rest of you. Our countries are in a state of war. We must be aware of this. While I know many of them are your friends, for the good of our Dominion and the British Com–monwealth, we must watch and listen and report any suspicious behavior.”