The Wild Impossibility by Cheryl A. Ossola

Author:Cheryl A. Ossola [Ossola, Cheryl A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Regal House Publishing
Published: 2019-01-14T22:43:01+00:00

Twenty

July 17, 1945

At Manzanar, the wind made us crazy. Days when it never stopped, days when it came in sudden bursts, a desert storm flaunting its power. Infernos of sand and fragmented sage flailing our skin, worse than the creaking cold, more relentless than the lingering sun. The wind tormented us, ruled us, shaped our days.

When the wind blew hardest, flinging dust and grit in our eyes and mouths, we knew something would happen. It might be a lovers’ spat, or two drunk men arguing with their fists. It might be despair muting the voices of the Issei at dinner or keeping them at home, their hopes and appetites worn down. It might be a guard jumpy enough to swing his gun at someone for getting too close to the fence. Though the sentries’ vigilance had eased, we did not trust a man with a gun.

It was blowing hard the night we heard Akira was asking for trouble, going outside the fence for more than fish and a taste of freedom. We saw defiance in him, recklessness. The fishermen went for the trout, the peace, the rhythmic air-slice of a fishing line, the satisfaction of a well-placed cast. And they went for the pleasure of thumbing their noses at the government. Akira went for another reason, and for him it would prove more dangerous than machine guns, searchlights, rifles with bayonets. Akira went for a girl.

Those of us with eyes and experience pitied Annabelle. She’d staked her claim, but the look in Akira’s eyes told us she stood no chance of keeping him. To the Issei among us, his behavior was incomprehensible. He’d been well raised, schooled in our traditions, taught to respect his parents, brought up with a proper sense of duty, of on and giri. In turning away from our ways and traditions, he brought dishonor to his family.

Or it could be that the girl, and whatever would happen because of her, was his fate. Shikata ga nai. It cannot be helped.

One night soon after the rumors started, Akira came into the canteen. There was an edge to his gait, a restlessness that uprooted our calm. He walked over to Annabelle, glancing at the piano with an expression that told us he wanted it, not her, under his hands. If she noticed, her face did not show it. She smiled, crossed her legs, sat up straight to fill out her blouse. The girls sitting with her drifted away with knowing looks.

Annabelle sipped her soda straw. “There you are.”

“I said I’d be here, didn’t I?”

“These days I’m never sure.” She patted the chair next to her and Akira sat, hands on his knees. “Did you hear about the picnic on Saturday?” Annabelle said, her voice too bright. “A bunch of us are going to spend the day at Bairs Creek. Jackie and Hiroki already have dates.”

Akira struggled. We knew what he should say.

“I might have to work on Saturday,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “Someone asked me to trade shifts.

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