Читать книгу Cherry Blossom Winter - Jennifer Maruno - Страница 6

THE GARDEN

“There won’t be any work done on a bathhouse until everyone has put in their garden,” Sam told the family when Michiko shared the news at dinner.

He was right. Everyone in the orchard hoped to harvest a few vegetables before the next winter. They spent April slashing away the crabgrass and thistles in order to plant their small patch of land. From dawn to dusk they bent over the hard soil hoeing. Then they carted water from the ground tap at the end of each street.

Geechan spent the mild spring days wandering the lakeshore, creek bed, and forest paths collecting rocks. He especially liked the ones with rainbow colours.

“Ashi o kiosukete kudasai,” he muttered every time a rock thudded to the ground at the back of the drugstore. Michiko heard him say it often as she took the sheets from the line.

“Why does Geechan tell the rocks to take care of their feet?” she asked her mother when she took a basket of dry linen inside. “Doesn’t he mean watch out for his toes?”

Her mother lifted a sheet from the basket. “He’s speaking to his invisible plant,” Eiko said with a smile. “Once he has a large circle of stones he will fill it with soil and make a garden.” She folded the sheet. “He knows if you plant by rocks, vegetables will grow faster. The rocks catch the sun and keep plant roots warm.”

A sound like a giant knife scraping across toast made Michiko hop out of bed and look out her bedroom window. The early morning sun spilled across the yard. As usual, Geechan was up and working before anyone else. Michiko watched him drag his hoe across the ground. Then he lifted it in the air and brought it down hard. The ground broke. He scraped, lifted, and broke the ground a second time. In this rhythmic pattern, Geechan worked his way from the back of the garden to the front. Then he paused, removed a handkerchief from his back pocket, leaned on the hoe, and mopped his brow.

Michiko put on knee socks that no longer came up to her knee, blue drill pants that had been let down twice, and a navy sweater with patches across the elbows. By the time she ate breakfast and pulled on her rubber boots, the first long furrow of broken soil waited. She watched a robin land. He cocked his head to the ground. Then he pulled a soft worm from the ground and flew away.

“What’s this row going to be?” Michiko asked.

Geechan shrugged and made his way to the back of the garden to start again.

“I hope we are putting in potatoes,” Clarence announced, appearing from the side of the building. A burlap sack swung at his side as he walked. He wore a flannel shirt and denim pants with a small hole in one of the knees. Thick striped socks topped his scuffed hobnailed boots. “I just love potatoes.”

“What’s in the bag?” Michiko asked. She was pleased Clarence remembered to come.

“I made three of them,” Clarence announced proudly, “one for you, Hiro, and me.” He placed the sack at Michiko’s feet.

“They just look like cans to me,” Michiko said, opening the sack and peering inside.

“They are cans.” Clarence pulled one out and showed her the rows of small holes in the bottom. “They’re watering cans. You dip it in the bucket and move it along the row.”

“Good thinking,” Ted commented, striding into the yard. He shouldered a shovel, pickaxe, and hoe, his strong carpenter hands clamped over their wooden handles. His open shirt revealed a snow-white undershirt. His deep black eyes sparkled.

“Something for each of us,” Ted said, letting the tools clatter to the ground. “You pick.”

“I pick the pick,” Clarence said. “I’ve always wanted to strike gold like a prospector.”

“You mean silver,” Michiko corrected. “This used to be silver town, not gold.”

“This town is nothing but a ghost town now,” Ted said as he lifted the shovel.

“Don’t forget to plant peonies for prosperity,” Michiko’s Aunt Sadie called out to them from the back door. She put the red-painted tips of her long straight fingers to her lips and blew Michiko a kiss. Hiro, in her arms, played with the pompons dangling from her sweater.

Looking at her mother’s elegant sister, most people would think Sadie was too haikara for hard work. But when they first arrived she had chopped wood, hauled water, and scrubbed clothes just like everyone else. If anyone needed help, she would be the first to put on her overalls.

“Hiro, what do you think we should plant?” Michiko asked with a grin.

“A beanstalk,” Ted replied. “That way he can climb it.” Then he added under his breath, “Yancha kozo de ne.”

Michiko giggled. Sadie said Ted was just as mischievous when he was a boy.

“For Hiro,” Sadie said walking into the garden, “we can plant an iris.”

“Why?” asked Clarence.

“Our mother was forever trying to grow a Hirohito iris, but it would not bloom.”

“We better plant more than flowers,” Ted muttered in exasperation. “Especially if we have a winter like the last one.”

Ted, Clarence, and Michiko helped Geechan dig and scrape the soil until the rectangular patch of land was full of scalloped edged rows.

“Tomorrow we sow,” Ted announced. “Each person gets to plant a row.” He reached out for the pickaxe from Clarence. “You get to do the potatoes,” he said, ruffling the boy’s bright red hair with his hand.

Clarence waved and headed home. The rest went indoors for lunch. Any other time Clarence would be welcome to stay, but not today. Today the family had important business.

The night before, someone pounding on the shop door had made everyone stop eating in surprise. Michiko watched her father place his napkin at the side of his plate and rise from the dinner table. They all stared at the grey envelope he returned with, wondering what it was, but Sam did not open it. He put it down next to his plate, tapped it lightly, and said, “We wait for Ted.”

Later that night Michiko turned the letter over. The words OPENED BY CENSOR and the examiner number were missing. Michiko hoped it meant they could go back to Vancouver.

Her mother spread the tablecloth and set out the napkins. Eiko always insisted their table be set properly. “It makes the food taste better,” she said many times.

Michiko waited patiently for their lunch to finish.

Finally her father took a knife, slit open the envelope, and handed the letter to Ted.

Ted scanned the letter. Taking a deep breath he read it out loud: “Please be informed that your property, in its course of sale, received a price equal to that placed upon it by an independent appraiser.”

Her mother folded her hands in her lap and said, “I should think so. We painted and installed new furnace pipes.”

Michiko jumped into the conversation. “We had a garden in the back and in the front.” She stopped talking when Sadie looked her in the eye and shook her head.

“Proceeds will not be given to the owners,” Ted continued as his voice grew low, “unless they can prove need.”

Sadie gave a sharp incredulous cry.

Ted lowered the letter to the table. “You don’t want to hear the rest.”

Eiko buried her face in her hands. “What do they mean by need?” she said.

“Let me see that,” Sadie said, snatching up the letter. She scanned it quickly with her eyes, and then read out loud, “Your Ford was sold by the government for thirty-three dollars. Handling charges for the transaction were thirty dollars.” Her voice moved to anger as she shouted out the words: “We will forward you a cheque in the amount of three dollars.”

Sadie waved the letter in front of everyone’s face. “Do you mean to tell me that you can’t get the price of your own house or your own car? All you get is three measly dollars?”

Ted took the letter from her and handed it back to Sam. “You knew the house sold.”

Geechan patted Sam’s arm. “We can never see the sun rise by looking into the west.”

“How can you say that?” Sadie screeched. “First they take your boat, then our radios and cameras.” She stood up, shoving her chair behind her. “They forced Sam into a chain gang,” she exclaimed, “and all you can say is, look the other way?”

Michiko held her breath, expecting her grandfather to rise and rebuke Sadie. But he didn’t.

Sadie threw the letter to the table. “I will never stop looking back.” She strode out of the kitchen, down the stairs, and slammed the back door.

No one at the table moved.

The letter lay in the middle of the table.

Sam planted his elbows on the table, settled his face into his hands, closed his eyes, and gave out a loud sigh.