9. THE COMING LEGEND OF KOSUKE & KIKUKO YAMAUCHI
MALACHI
She sat on her knees and placed a small paper fan in front of her. We quietly waited, Esther and me, watching as she took off her hat, revealing her hair which was sliver and black, and placed it behind herself. When she looked up at us both she smiled, and when Kikuko smiled it spread across her entire face. Her eyes became small, and due to her age, she had wrinkles around her mouth but she wore them proudly.
“Forgive me, it’s been so long since I did this.” She spoke softly as she took a deep breath, picked up her fan and started.
“The girl was six and did not understand the fear around her…” She began squeezing the fan as if she were going to snap it in two. “Why her mother walked quickly, even in the daytime, clenching her hand, and yes her whole hand because the girl was small, the smallest of the Sato children, and as the only girl, her mother held her as if she feared they would never touch again.” She opened her fan and slightly fanned herself. Joyfully adding “A thought, a possibility, a chance that had never once crossed the little girl’s mind because she didn’t know America, even though that was where she was born, that was where she was raised, and where she was. America wasn’t just a place or a country, it was her. The land of the free and home of the brave was her. So she walked freely to her tutor’s home on the corner of Maple and Fifth Bank. She even stayed late some days, and because she was brave she didn’t fear the dark.”
All of sudden she snapped the fan close gripping it with both hands. Her smile dropped and her eyes seemed dull now as her voice became stiff but not emotionless. Instead, it was filled with a mixture of confusion, pain, and sorrow.
“She didn’t fear the dark so the monsters did not come in the dark. They didn’t come with claws, or razor-sharp teeth, or beady red eyes. Because they were not monsters, they were people. And though they wielded no claws, they still held a weapon in their hands—paper. Important paper. The paper told the small girl that she wasn’t American, she was Japanese and because of that she could no longer walk freely, and her father told her to never show the bravery in her heart because it would be mistaken for treason.
“The small girl still did not understand, but followed the rest of her kind, she now had a kind and separated herself from the other kind, the kind that took them away from their house on Fifth Bank to their new home at Camp Bella Vista—called so because there were Italians there too. The Italians told the girl what her parents and siblings didn’t want to tell her; that America was at war, a world war, and they were fighting a particular kind. So they couldn’t be that kind anymore. Camp Bella Vista wasn’t a camp but a prison with a beautiful view.
“The girl cried because she didn’t understand, she was both kinds, she wanted to be good for both kinds, but that was treason, and so every day, out by the fence, she cried even as the snow started to bury her those first weeks in March.”
She hunched over as her body shivered and the more I looked at her, the less she seemed to be there until I blinked and I was looking at the small girl sitting in the snow by a fence sobbing so badly her breathing was nothing more than gasps, and when she managed to get enough air into her lungs, she cried even more.
March 1942 - Camp Bella Vista, Montana.
“How can you be crying?” A young boy towered over her. His black hair was wet with snow and his white ears were slowly turning bright red from the cold.
The girl looked up at him and wiped her face. “I’m sad!”
“I know, but how can you have any tears left?” he asked curiously as he stuck his round face directly in front of hers.
“What?” She pulled her head back and stared at him.
He kept staring at her. “You cried here yesterday, and the day before yesterday, and the day before that. How do you have tears left?”
“I drank the ocean! Leave me alone!” She pushed him away and stood up from her seat of snow as she marched angrily to another part of the barbed-wire fence.
“You have snow on your butt!” he yelled after her.
She jumped as if she’d been kicked and spun around to glare at him while simultaneously putting her hands behind her back. The boy laughed at her.
“Bye, crybaby!”
“I’m not a crybaby!”
“Yes, you are!”
“No, I’m not!”
“Hey!” The both jumped at the sound of the officer’s voice. His black boots crunched the snow under it as he walked forward, his brown rifle resting on the shoulder of his olive brown uniform jacket. The boy ran over to the girl and took her hand.
“Sorry!” he said quickly for the both them.
The officer looked them over. “Where are your parents? Why are you both walking around back here?”
“Because we want to,” the girl muttered and the boy stood in front of her.
“Because we wanted to see the deer.” He pointed through the fence, and even though the tree line was still a bit far, there was, in fact, a deer there. “We wanted it to come closer but she kept crying because she’s cold. So I’m going to take her home now.”
He waited for the guard to nod them off before he took her hand and ran. He ran with her as fast as their small legs could take them but before they could get to the safety of the camp a rifle shot rang out behind them. He pushed her down thinking that it was them that the officer was shooting at, but as he looked over his shoulder he saw the guard and a few others heading towards the deer. Taking a deep breath he rose to his feet and smacked the girl on the back of her head.
“Are you crazy?!”
“Ouch!” She yelled back at him.
“Don’t talk back to them.”
“Why?”
“Why?” The boy looked at her like he didn’t even know where to begin and so she kept talking.
“Why do I have to stop talking? Why do I have to be here? Why—”
“Because life isn’t fair,” he told her as he crossed his arms in an attempt to make himself seem older than he was, but the feat was too daunting and so he sighed as he lowered his arms and scratched the back of his head. “That’s what my father says, he fought the first time the world was at war and he always says war isn’t fair to anyone, so it’s not fair that we’re here. But we can’t go around causing trouble because it isn’t fair that what we do will hurt someone else too. Your dad is sick, right? If you make them angry what if they don’t let the doctor see him?”
She stopped moving as if he’d just shattered what little pride she’d had left.
“You have to be strong for your father, Kikuko,” he said as he leaned over and dusted the snow off her.
“Everyone calls me Daisy now.” She frowned and then realized. “How do you know my name?”
The boy grinned. “Your brother, Tsutomu, told me he had a baby sister named Kikuko who never plays with us, but that we could find you if we followed the crying.”
“I’m not a crybaby!” The girl stomped her foot.
He nodded and then stuck out his hand. “Kosuke Yamauchi.”
She didn’t want to shake his hand so instead she turned around and marched away.
“Bye, Daisy—”
“Not Daisy, Kikuko!” she yelled. “My mom gave me that name.”
He had said goodbye but was instead walking towards her. “Where is your mom?”
The girl looked up in the sky. “In heaven with my little sister. My brother said the trip was bad for her.”
“I’m sorry, Kikuko, but…”
“What?”
“Can we go inside now? It’s cold!” he pleaded as he grabbed her hand and led her towards one of the housing barracks.
***
And just like that, I was looking at Kikuko as she held her hand out while being led by the boy to the housing barracks. Slowly her hand dropped back into her lap and she partially opened the paper fan and fanned her face.
“And that was how the famous duo, who were known by all in Prison Bella Vista, met. They were too young and innocent to realize that they were in love with each other. The two bonded over the common goal of making life just a little bit better and they argued over how to do that. They argued about everything. If Kosuke said it was going to snow, Kikuko said it was going to be the hottest day of the year just to make him angry…but it never did, which made her angry instead.
“The younger kids thought it was hilarious to watch and soon their older siblings would watch, and the sound of children’s laughter would make the grandparents come, and the sound of the elders’ laughter brought the adults. With the adults came the guards. And before Kosuke and Kikuko could run out of material, they were given ideas by others and taught by the elders the craft of story-telling. And on the day of their first real rakugo performance—which could have been mistaken for a wedding because of how many people were laughing— “The skies opened up and the rain came pouring down and Kikuko looked to Kosuke and teasingly he asked, “Will you stand over me and be my umbrella?”
***
I hadn’t really noticed her since this story began. But when Esther sat up and leaned in eagerly to hear her reply, I couldn’t help but shake my head.
***
“Go in the rain.” Kikuko went on speaking as if she were Kosuke. Her voice was deeper now than when she’d narrated his voice when they were kids.
“Kikuko told him he was too serious and that she was just joking but when she stepped out into the slush of mud and melting snow the rain didn’t touch her. When she looked up over her head a jacket appeared and Kosuke said to her ‘run.’ And so they ran towards the Chief Officer’s office because the guards had created a roofed platform for them to do their shows. Kikuko thought it was because they enjoyed the show but Kosuke knew they did it because it made us easier for them to watch. With everyone in one place they didn’t have much work to do. He didn’t tell Kikuko this nor did he allow this fact to deter their mission—to make everyone’s life a little bit happy just for a while. And so, while they were performing, while everyone’s eyes were on them, one snuck away, one who’d come as a boy and was now at the cusp of adulthood. We couldn’t take away his frustration, anger, or pain with laughter. Thinking none of the guards were watching he sought to escape prison Bella Vista. He made it twenty paces before….”
She balanced the fan on her finger and turned her hands into a riffle as she scoped from her right until she was pointing the gun at me. “BANG!” She hollered and immediately her hands dropped sending the fan onto the ground in front of her. Flinching, she turned her head to the field, her eyes glazed over as we sat in silence.
“Danny. They killed Danny.”
She wasn’t the one who spoke. In fact, she broke out of her role and turned to her husband who now sat up with his eyes wide open. He blinked a few times as he looked around and finally back at her. His eyes were no longer as lifeless as they were a moment ago.
“You awake now?” She put her hand on his knee and he smiled and nodded at her as he placed his wrinkled hand over hers and looked back towards us.
“How are you, Oshaberi?”
“Not you too, Mr. Yamauchi. Why does everyone pick on me?” Esther groaned as she picked up her ignored lunch and popped a rice ball into her mouth.
He snickered at her before his old eyes shifted to me. “And you are?”
“Malachi Lord desu.”
He laughed and looked to Kikuko who nodded as if she knew what he was thinking. Maybe she did. Turning to me he leaned forward and said in English, “Do you know that the man who killed my brother, Danny, looked just like you.”
Kikuko smacked his leg but he grinned and ignored him. “Same blue eyes, dark hair, all the girls thought he was handsome too even though he hated us Japs. And now you sit here speaking in Japanese. Can you believe Kiku? A black girl and white man can both speak better Japanese better than I do. Ain’t the world something?”
Kikuko sighed and rolled her eyes as she turned to Esther. “The reason why he calls you Oshaberi is to deflect the name from himself, excuse him.”
“Aye.” He frowned and it was hard to believe that this man, this lively, animated old man, was the same man who’d been sitting almost lifeless in his wheelchair before.
“What?” Kikuko challenged him as she lifted her head not even fazed by his drastic personality shift.
“Umm…” Esther swallowed her food before continuing. “I don’t mean to be rude but you left us on a cliffhanger here!”
“Do you have strong arms?” Mr. Yamauchi joked, and both Esther and Kikuko groaned. He ignored the both of them and said, “Then you can hang in there.”
Trying to fight the laughter I reached for the water but he extended his arms above himself as if he were hanging on to the ledge of a cliff and said, “Get it? Hang in there? The cliffhanger?”
Coughing against the top of the water bottle I laughed as I placed the back of my hand over my lips.
“Ahh…there we go.” He nodded to me. “You’re far too young to be so serious.”
“He’s had a hard life.” Esther slipped in there before eating another rice ball...because apparently if she wasn’t eating she’d tell everyone under the sun my secret…as if it were no big deal.
“Hmmm…” Mr. Yamauchi frowned at me and as he leaned back against the chair and stretched his legs, his knees cracked, but that didn’t stop him from holding on to the sides to lift himself up. Esther moved to help him but Kikuko shook her head and we watched as he lowered himself to sit on his knees next to her. Reaching up, he took off his hat revealing his thick silver-white hair. Next, he pushed up his sleeves revealing the old scars all over his arms and looked directly at me. He inhaled deeply and his body relaxed. Then he began.
January 5th, 1945 - Prison Bella Vista, Montana.
“That fool, Kiku! Did you hear? The war is over now and they’re really shutting this place down. If he had waited…if he’d just held on for one more week. We’d be free again!” A taller, still young but no longer a boy, Kosuke said standing in front of the barracks.
“We’ll never be free here.” Kikuko hung her head and her black hair, now well past her shoulders, fell forward.
“They—”
“They said we were free and then they took that freedom away. We are either free or we are not. That is what my father says. That’s why we’ve decided to go back to Japan.”
“Kiku!”
She bit back tears. “They hate us, Kosuke! They will always hate us. Danny ran because he hated them too and didn’t want to do anything bad. It’s not his fault, it’s their fault. The war is over but Japs won’t be welcomed back, that’s what my dad said so we have to go. Tell your dad to—”
“He won’t go,” Kosuke said softly. “He says he fought for this country, and he believes in it.”
“He couldn’t.” It wasn’t Kikuko who spoke but her father who came outside of the house and placed a scarf over her neck as he stood beside his daughter.
“You’re going to Japan, Mr. Sato.” Kosuke nodded to him.
“We are.” He put his arm around Kikuko. “And your father is wrong to make you stay here. Your life will be harder here. This country took your sister and your brother. He doesn’t owe it anymore.”
“It’s not debt.” Mr. Yamauchi stepped up beside his son and placed his hands on his head. “It’s loyalty. Just because they have wronged me does not mean I should give up on the belief I have in this country.”
“Fine.” Mr. Sato stepped down and stood in front of him. “You stick with that belief but at the very least send Kosuke. We’ll watch—”
“No.” Mr. Yamauchi offered a kind smile. “Thank you. But my wife and I need our son. They are giving those of us who want to go back home twenty-five dollars and a train ticket. If you ever return we’ll be heading to Irvine, California. A friend of mine says he can get me a job there.”
“What?” Kikuko looked up at him. “When do you go?”
He patted her head. “First train tomorrow. Why don’t you go say goodbye to everyone with him while your father and I talk?”
“Okay.” She frowned as she took Kosuke’s hand, and without a word to anyone, he led her away.
“Don’t be sad. When we’re older we’ll get to live together wherever we want,” Kosuke tried to sound happy but his voice cracked.
“Why would I live with you?” Kikuko stuck out her tongue.
“Because I’m going to marry you,” he said to her and Kikuko looked at him, her eyes wide before she laughed. “I’m being serious. Don’t laugh.”
“But what if I don’t want to marry you?”
“Fine.” He prepared to walk away but she jumped on his back. He didn’t say anything but carried her as they walked.
“I don’t want to leave her here,” Kikuko whispered softly. “But Dad said we can’t move the dead.”
“Yeah,” Kosuke replied letting her down as they both clasped their hand and bowed their heads. “Danny. Sarah. Goodbye for now.”
“Toshirô. Takeshi. Tsutomu. Goodbye for now.”
Kosuke looked to her. “What about your mom?”
“My mom never leaves me.” She smiled. “She sent Toshirô, Takeshi, and Tsutomu off but she’s going to be watching out for Tomi, Dad and me. She heard you say you are going to marry me.”
“And she’s happy about it. I’m the best guy.” He turned around for her to get on his back and she climbed on but didn’t reply. “You’re supposed to agree, Kiku.”
She snored.
“Kiku?”
She snored louder.
“You’re kinda heavy. Like a piggy.”
“Hey! Take it back.”
He laughed at her. “Who’s the best guy?”
“Not you! Let me down.”
“What are you two doing?” The voice of a familiar called out to them and they turned to face him as Kikuko got off his back.
“It’s alright,” another voice said but the two stayed in place. “They’re okay, you two excited to be going home? Are you on the trains tomorrow?”
They both stared at him blankly.
“Yes, s—” Kosuke started to say but Kikuko stood up.
“I’m not on the trains. I’m going back to Japan.”
“Well let those Japs know if they try anything again we got more packages to drop on their head—”
“Hey!” the second officer yelled at him. “You two head off. It’s a long ride for you both.”
“Yes, sir.” Kosuke took off running as he held on to Kikuko’s hand and dragged her to one of the gaps between the barracks. “Why do you always do that?”
“They make me mad!” She screamed as she crossed her arms and leaned against the home. “And what packages?”
Kosuke frowned as he rubbed his head in frustration. “Kikuko...! Kiku…” he said softer. “No matter where we go it’s going to be hard. Promise me you won’t give up.”
“Kosuke, what’s wrong—”
“Promise me you’ll work on your temper.”
“I don’t have a temper!”
He tilted his head to look at her and she frowned as she looked away.
“I wouldn’t have one if people didn’t make me mad. I’m not wrong—”
He kissed her quickly and pulled back as he said, “You aren’t wrong. I never said you were wrong. But there is a better way to be right like my mom says. Promise me you’ll be careful and that you won’t give up no matter how hard it is. Do the best you can and I’ll work really hard too so when we meet again you can do anything you want and we can go anywhere we want, okay?”
“Promise.” She stuck out her pinky.
“Promise.” He linked his with hers.
1946 - Irvine, California
“The day after I turned thirteen my father and mother divorced. I think they were waiting for my sake but I wished they would have done it earlier. I asked what was to happen next, hoping it would mean an end to the strawberry picking. But they didn’t seem to know. My father is moving to New York and that’s about as far as their thoughts go. So the strawberry picking continues and not much else. I hope one day these letters make it to you. Father said that mail to Japan is probably being checked first. People are still scared.”
- Kosuke Yamauchi.
1952 - Osaka, Japan
“Kosuke, are you there? Because if you are I’d like to tell you that the promise we made is getting harder to bear the older I get over here. I thought Japan would become home by now. That I’d be fully Japanese by now. But even here I stand out. My personality is too loud, my behavior too brash. I don’t speak softly like the other girls do. I’m curious about everything and that makes me a wild child now. And the more Japanese I try to become the more Japan tries to westernize itself. I miss an America I barely remember. The time before Bella Vista. But I met you at Bella Vista. You were like those pink flowers that grew along the wire and fences. Do you get these letters? Are you still in Irvine, California? Does the sun beat down on you harshly like it does on me when you are in the fields? You’re over there picking strawberries and I’m here knee-deep in muddy water planting rice. This isn’t what I want to do…they call me selfish and spoiled when I say that though. So I think it over and over again. What am I going to do? How will I get to you or you to me when even our letters can’t even make it?”
- Kikuko Sato
1959 - Osaka, Japan
“There is only one woman on this planet who as the ability to frustrate me to the point of insanity and that is you, Kikuko. For the last two years my heart has been ready to explode since I saw your pictures in TIME. Your photography is as stunning as you are. Whoever said a picture was worth a thousand words forgot to mention those words were past tense. So while I worked three jobs at the factories with my father in New York, to be able to afford to come here to Japan to see you, you used your money to go to Irvine, California? Kikuko!”
-Kosuke Yamauchi.
1960 - Irvine, California
“You are not here. Why are you not here? Why did you move to New York? I barely have enough left to get to New York. How will I find you? Kosuke!”
- Kikuko Sato
1961 - Irvine, California
“New York? You went to New York? For the love of god woman, stay still! I beg of you. I feel as if I’m going insane. And now all the people I hurt and things I did to find you are catching up to me. My father is ill now so he came back to my mother, dying from a broken heart because the country he loved did not love him in return…and also the liquor. New York is a big and dangerous place. Stay safe until I get to you.”
- Kosuke Yamauchi.
1962 - New York, New York
“I left the city. It scared me. It felt like Prison Bella Vista—cold, damp, dirty, the rich were laughing like the guards and the poor were dying like we were dying. My photography has gotten attention here. So I sit with the guards…the rich…now, but I can’t laugh with then. And I find that I’ve finally mastered how to be like those girls back in Osaka now. I know how to smile more and talk less. If I do less of both…people here like it more. My silence means mystery. The world is a funny place. If you see the photo of the Pink Fireweed Flowers on the corner of Boone Street & Geneva Boulevard, you’ll know where I am and I’ll be waiting for you here.”
- Kikuko Sato
1963 - New York, New York
“Today on my thirty birthday I now understand why my mother was so worried about me. I could finally see how much I was like my father. How he held on to his beliefs even if it killed him. Just like I am holding on to you, eighteen years later. Working odd jobs not because I have to but because I need to be able to earn enough just to travel and keep looking, ignoring the advice from anyone who tries to save me from myself. I am a grown man and I should act like it, they tell me. The weight of adulthood is heavy, it’s like trying to walk through tall grass in the dark, and just as I felt like giving up, construction closed Mainway Park and I had to walk through Boone Street & Geneva Boulevard to get home, and I saw the photo. I do believe I looked very much like a man laughing and crying in front of it. I’d been here for a year, trying to find you, losing hope I’d ever find you and a detour was all I needed. I leave tonight. Not tomorrow. Not when I have enough money, but now.”
-Kosuke Yamauchi.
ESTHER
I cried. Boy did I cry.
“Sorry.” I held my hand up to them.
“Her faces leaks often.” Mr. Stone-hearted handed me his napkin and sat there not at all a wreck. “Obviously they found each other. Why are you crying so much?”
Snatching the napkin from him I glared as I wiped my nose. “After eighteen years of separation! That’s still sad, they kept missing one another. All those years they could have been together longer.”
“You would have still cried anyway,” he muttered. “Which ocean did you drink?”
Mr. Yamauchi laughed at him. “How long have you two been together?”
“Together?” Malachi and I asked simultaneously, and before I could say anything he spoke first…again. “We’re not together at all. She’s my agent’s granddaughter.”
Kikuko frowned as she looked between us. “You two aren’t married?”
I gasped as I tried to catch my breath. “Marriage now? How did we jump to there?”
“No. She’s far too young for me.”
I looked at him. “You’re only two years older than my ex-boyfriend. What do you mean far too young?”
He tapped the side of his head. “I meant mentally.”
Grabbing the water bottle, I prepared to hit him when Mr. Yamauchi started to laugh and cough which caused Kikuko to put her hands on his shoulders. He shook his head at her and glanced back up at us.
“You both…are good people…” he coughed again and Kikuko got up to help him into his chair but he waved her off. “I’m fine, Kiku. I just woke up. Let me talk.”
“It’s getting cold. We’ll be back tomorrow,” she said to us, and while I gathered the lunch boxes and silver chopsticks, Malachi dusted off the blanket and carefully folded it before handing it back to Kikuko.
“Malachi.” Mr. Yamauchi waved him over. “Do you want to know the secret to having a long life?”
“I’ve never thought about it, however, I know someone who might like to know.” I knew he was talking about me and I wanted to hear the answer for myself but Kikuko stepped in front of me, and even though she was shorter, her voice distracted me.
“We talked about it and agreed that we’ll publish our story if you’re the writer of it.”
“Wait, what?” I looked at her. “I can’t—”
“Then we won’t do it.”
I frowned. I’d heard their story from Officer Richards, and while Malachi was laying around I’d gone out to find them. I knew people wanted to hear a story like this but I didn’t think I’d have to write it, I was planning on hiring a ghost writer.
“The story is already written,” Mr. Yamauchi said as he steadied the blanket and bento boxes that sat in his lap. “Just make sure to describe how handsome I am.”
“You weren’t that handsome though.” Kikuko laughed as she finished packing up and stood behind his chair.
“Sure…make sure to describe her beaver cheeks too.”
“Bring up my cheeks up one more time I’ll leave you to the beavers!” Kikuko grumbled as she pushed him forward. “Have a good evening. Get home safe, Esther, and send the information to our daughter.”
“She’s a lawyer, did you know?” Mr. Yamauchi asked proudly. “Has she called today?”
“Not yet. She’s waiting for us to let her know when.” She waved to us once more before leaving with him and walking along the cleared path that led back towards their home.
“Every day she walks him to this field. Tells him a story and he magically becomes lucid for a short while,” I whispered, watching them as they made their way to the other side of the forest. “By the time they get back home he forgets again. Every day it’s like this and they’re both happy. It’s beautiful.”
“Li-Mei,” he said randomly.
“What?”
“The woman who I’ve loved nine hundred and ninety-nine times.” He turned to me. “In this life her name is Li-Mei Zhou, and just like in all of our past lives she doesn’t remember either.” He frowned as he tucked his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “I know you wanted to help me see other people’s lives…I’m not upset about it. But it does make me frustrated with my own story too.”
He’d moved on too quickly. I was still on Li-Mei. “Li-Mei Zhou? My Li-Mei?”
“Why is she yours?”
I didn’t answer because she wasn’t my Li-Mei but she was my friend, and now…now I didn’t know how I could not tell her about this.
“Don’t tell her,” he said as if he could read my mind. “I want her to be happy in this life and I’ll try to do the same. That’s what you wanted right?”
I didn’t know.
My head hurt the more I tried to.
MALACHI
“She really made an art room,” I muttered to myself when I flicked on the light.
When I’d finished with a painting I tried to never look at them again. However, Esther, intrusive, the-sun-is-always-shinning-even-when-it’s-pouring-outside Esther, had put them up on easels. I was forced to face them all…all the images of her. And for some reason, though it was eerie in a way seeing all her eyes, in every different shade, staring back at me, I didn’t feel the pain. I couldn’t with Mr. Yamauchi words circling my mind.
“The secret to a long life, Malachi, is loving to live, knowing suffering for the sake of love isn’t suffering, and finding joy in that.”
Reaching over I turned off the lights and locked the door from the inside before closing it.