Island Of Sweet Pies And Soldiers: A powerful story of loss and love. Sara Ackerman

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СКАЧАТЬ And what might have happened to him.

      “Ella asked me today if she could go to Japanese school,” Violet said in a hushed tone so Ella, who was drawing in the living room, wouldn’t hear.

      Jean turned off the faucet and faced her, eyes big. “Our Ella?”

      “I wasn’t sure I heard correctly at first.”

      That morning, when Ella had asked, Violet fought to keep her face in order. “Japanese school is for Japanese. And you, my dear, are not Japanese,” she’d said, brushing a lock of Ella’s hair back.

      “Why does it matter?” Ella had said.

      “It’s just how it is right now. With the war.”

      “Umi says all they do is make origami animals and sing.” Ella was still too young to know the meaning of skin color, and how it mattered more than it should. “Please?”

      It took Violet a few seconds to realize that Ella had made up her mind. “No promises, but I can ask.”

      These were the moments in childrearing that she longed to have Herman around. He was good at handling difficult matters. Violet tended to let emotions cloud her thinking. Anyway, it was the first time in the past year that Ella had shown interest in doing anything apart from Violet. She would spend a whole afternoon drawing pictures of dragonflies or petting the cats on the porch rather than venturing out on her own. Aside from when she was at school, which she hated, Ella could always be found within a thirty-foot radius of her mother.

      Jean wiped her hands on a dish towel. “What did you say to her?”

      “I pointed out the obvious. But now I’m wondering. Japanese learn English. Why couldn’t she learn Japanese?”

      Jean shook her head. “I know you hate to say no, but this might not be the best time. People are on eggshells about whether or not the school should even be open.”

      “If they were going to shut it down, they would have already.”

      “Nothing’s for certain.”

      Before she could respond, Ella appeared in the doorway, bare feet white against the green linoleum. “Mama, there’s a tall man at the front door.”

      She and Jean exchanged glances. There were few tall strangers in the area. Jean smoothed her skirt and they walked out to the living room together. Ella hung back. It was September and the remaining light sent streaks of gold through the hau trees. A figure in a green uniform stood in front of the screen door, backlit. Another stood on the steps below, looking out toward the ocean.

      As she approached the door, Jean squealed. “Zach? Is that you?” She flung open the door and flew outside, wrapping herself around one of the men before he could get a word out. “What are you doing here? Oh, Lordy Lord, I can’t believe this!” She turned to Violet. “This is my little brother, Zach.”

      When he managed to detach himself from Jean, he shook Violet’s hand, nearly pulling her arm out of its socket. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

      Zach motioned to the other man. “This is Sergeant Parker Stone, Fifth Division.”

      Parker squeezed her hand. His eyes were either deep-sea blue or silver, and she tried not to stare. Must have been the lighting.

      “Please, come in,” Jean said.

      Parker remained planted. “I’ll wait out here if you don’t mind. I can’t seem to get enough of this sweet air,” he said, looking more interested in the whitecaps and cane fields than in either of them.

      Jean pulled Zach in and dragged him into the light of the kitchen. Ella sat at the table, looking into her glass of milk. Violet could tell she was curious because she kept sneaking glances.

      “Ella, honey, this is my brother, Zach. Can you say hi?” Jean said.

      Ella’s chestnut eyes were stubborn. She didn’t look up, but in a small voice said, “Hello.”

      Zach towered over her. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ella.”

      He looked down at the picture on the table. Ella ignored him.

      “That’s a fancy-looking creature. Do those actually live around here?” he said.

      The drawing was of a butterfly with lacy wings and a cat’s face. Ella nodded, ever so slightly.

      “I wasn’t aware that Hawaii had flying buttercats. But this is good information to know,” he said, winking at Violet.

      It didn’t take Zach long to make himself comfortable at the table, and for Violet to decide she liked him.

      Jean beamed. “Tell me everything, young man. Why didn’t you contact me?”

      Without his hat, he looked younger. Jean was twenty-five, so Violet guessed Zach to be about twenty-two. “They wouldn’t let us. You know how that goes. If anyone so much as mentioned pineapple or island in our letters home, they were crossed out or returned.”

      “So you must have been in the convoy that passed through town this weekend. And you’re just coming here now?” Jean asked.

      “I searched for your face when we drove through. Trust me, I came as soon as I could.”

      “Your group looks different from the fellas that left us last month,” Violet said.

      “Camp Pendleton is a far cry from Betio Atoll. God bless those boys.” Zach’s face clouded over.

      “What can you tell us? How long are you here for?” Jean asked.

      Zach shared the same smile as his sister, toothy and nearly wider than his face. “That, I can’t say. And when you contact Mom and Dad, don’t say I’m here. The last thing we need is the Japanese to know what we’ve got going on. Though Lord knows they have their spies.”

      Violet’s stomach lurched. “Not in this town.” She was fed up to her teeth with outsiders assuming all Japanese were spies.

      “You can’t be too sure,” Zach said.

      “I can vouch for a good number of them.”

      “We’re just here to protect our country.”

      “Just beware of blanket assumptions based on skin color,” Violet said.

      Zach backed off. “I’ve got to run, since we’re supposed to be on official business. It’s six o’clock and I don’t want to get shot, but I’ll come down when on liberty if that’s all right?” he said. “And next time we’ll bring Roscoe.”

      “Who’s Roscoe?” Jean asked.

      “Just you wait. You’re going to love him.” He glanced at Ella. “You, too, Ella.”

      At the sound of her name, Ella perked up, but still regarded her drawing instead of Zach.

      “Please do! Oh, Zach, I’m so happy СКАЧАТЬ