Part 8 (1/2)
He saw Mariko surrounded by chattering girls. Her dark eyes were on the ground as she plodded along.
George stood and took hesitant steps toward her. ”Mariko.”
Mariko stopped. She lifted her head to look at him. Her girlfriends giggled and covered their mouths with their hands. They whispered to one another and giggled some more.
Mariko walked away from them and toward George. ”Yes, George?”
”I came to...” He squirmed and kicked the dust with one foot.
The girls squealed and his face grew hot.
With a wave of her hand, Mariko dismissed her friends who skipped away laughing.
George wanted to say something brilliant and witty. Instead, he blurted out, ”I heard your father died. Here.” He pushed an envelope into her hand. ”It's for you.”
Mariko stared at the envelope. ”Your father has already been very generous.” She tried to give the envelope back to him.
George shook his head, looked down and wondered why he hadn't worn his best s.h.i.+rt. ”I want you to have it.”
Mariko opened the envelope and drew out a hand-drawn sympathy card with five dollars in it. ”I can't accept this. It's too much.”
”Do what you like with it. Give it away if you want, just don't give it back to me.” George clasped his hands behind his back.
Mariko hesitated before sliding the money into her pocket. ”I'll give it to my mother.” She clutched her books to her chest. She blinked at him. ”I know you have money. But you don't need to buy friends, you know. I'd still be your friend without the five dollars.” Then she turned and joined her friends.
George watched her go. He thought about what she said. I'd still be your friend without the five dollars.
On the way home, he whistled.
Chapter Twelve.
Kazuko wiped her hands on the colorless ap.r.o.n drooping from her gaunt frame. Two years had pa.s.sed since Tetsuo died, but it seemed more like two decades. The first year was a nightmare of numbed grief combined with a profound sense of loss and guilt. If it hadn't been for the children, she would have given up and died. Death was preferable to the ache inside her.
The second year the numbness was replaced by despair. Tetsuo's debts had to be paid. Her two eldest sons were forced to quit school and help support the family while she grew vegetables to take to the market every day. It was difficult, but they managed somehow.
After Tetsuo's death the Ebesu family, owners of the fee-hold to their land, ignored the Matsubara's lease with option to buy and began the process of repossessing the farm at the end of the lease term. The Ebesu's argued with Kazuko a dest.i.tute widow with six children could not pay a thousand dollars for the land. Kazuko hired a lawyer and the case was recently settled. Kazuko could buy the land and pay monthly installments over a five-year period of time. Since there was no extra money to pay the monthly installments, Kazuko knew what she had to do.
Just then Mariko opened the front door, waving a piece of paper. ”Mama, here's my report card. I got all A's. The teacher says if I continue this way, I might get a scholars.h.i.+p to college.” She stopped abruptly. ”Is anything wrong?”
Kazuko motioned her toward a chair. ”Sit down.”
Mariko obeyed. She had grown from an awkward child to a beautiful teenager. Her round eyes were thickly lashed and her full lips innocently sensual.
Kazuko shook her head. ”You know we have to pay the Ebesus thirty dollars a month?”
”Yes.”
Kazuko looked at her chapped hands and broken fingernails. ”We don't have the money.” Kazuko looked up and saw Mariko's knuckles turn white as she clutched her skirt. ”I contacted the Nakagawa family in Hilo. They own a little store. I've arranged for you to work for them. They will pay you fifteen dollars a month plus room and board. Since your needs will be taken care of, the money will be sent home to me.”
Mariko put her hand to her throat. ”Is it only for the summer?”
”No. I'm sorry, Mariko. But there will be no more school.”
”No more school?” Mariko stood up. ”You can't mean it! The teacher says I'm the smartest one there. She says I could grow up to be anything. And Papa said-”
”Papa's dead! What he told you was true only while he was alive.”
Mariko clenched her fists. Except for the bright spots of tears in her eyes, her face turned to stone. ”What about my plans and dreams?”
Kazuko took her in her arms for the first time since she was a baby. Smoothing her thick hair, she wondered why it couldn't have been her younger daughter, the one who hated school, who was being sent off. But Tomiko was too young.
”The poor can't even afford dreams.” Kazuko patted her on the shoulder. ”I'm sorry.”
The rooster crowed at first light. A few minutes later, Kazuko rose intending to wake up Mariko. Kazuko saw she was already awake. Mariko's slender body was a silhouette against the window admitting red-gold rays into the shabby, cheerless room.
Even in the dim light, Kazuko could see Mariko's eyes were red and swollen. Kazuko gripped her shoulders. ”Did you sleep last night?”
Mariko shook her head.
”It will go hard on you today. The Nakagawas expect you to work from the start. And it's a long journey there.”
Mariko shrugged. ”It doesn't matter.”
”You'll be tired,” Kazuko stroked Mariko's hair. ”The Nakagawas are nice people. They have a daughter around your age. You'll enjoy it. You'll see. It won't be as bad as you think.”
”Whatever you say.”
Kazuko grabbed Mariko by the shoulders and whispered so as not to wake the others, ”Don't look at me like that. Do you think I wanted it this way? I have no choice.”
Mariko shrugged off Kazuko's hands.
”I need your help to keep this house because your father died and left me with lots of debts and too many children.”
Mariko looked at her mother, her eyes devoid of emotion. She picked up her meager belongings and walked through the open door, past her mother, and said, ”I must go now.”
Mariko didn't know why the mistress of the house hated her but she did. Sachi Nakagawa looked at her up and down before taking her to the small room she was to share with n.o.buko, a plain, st.u.r.dy girl who spoke very little and resented sharing her room.
Mariko tried to be obedient, polite, and efficient. But Sachi gave her the most difficult and menial tasks. She worked from six in the morning until eight or nine at night. She did her work, went to bed, and caused no trouble.
A week after her arrival, Mariko and n.o.buko scurried around the kitchen as the Nakagawa family sat and ate dinner. Sachi started in on Mariko almost immediately.
”You are a vain, silly girl who reads instead of works.” Sachi shook her chopsticks at Mariko.