Читать книгу After the Bloom - Leslie Shimotakahara - Страница 10

She pulled the curtain around her bed and curled up, curled into herself. Her thoughts had recoiled to that little cave at the back of her brain. She didn’t want to let any images in. That body on the floor — moaning, mewling. So many shining, riveted faces. But Kenny’d had the right idea: he calmly straightened up and began clearing away dishes, as though he were just minding his own business. A bored sigh, heaving shoulders, roll of the eyes. Show’s over. The crowd scattered as the guards came hollering in. No one dared to point a finger his way. Not even the table of JACCers, not even Burt. At last Dr. Takemitsu arrived to take Burt to the hospital.

Lily edged closer to the wall, sand whipping against its other side. Through the cascade she could hear Aunt Tetsuko’s muffled chatter, followed by the tearful whimpering of one of the younger children. Audrey climbed onto the bunk above, softly passing gas. Hard for Lily to believe that these people were her family. They felt more like prison mates in this wasteland, this desert purgatory.

Now more than ever, she knew she had to go to the aqueduct. Kaz had fallen under Kenny’s spell so utterly that he wasn’t even himself anymore. She needed to protect him, to restore him to his true self. This was what the doctor had asked of her.

At last everyone was snoring. Rising stealthily, she pulled a shawl over her shoulders, tiptoed across the squeaking floorboards, and slipped outside.

The night air was cold and cutting — she’d never been out this late in the desert. Sand was spraying all over her, like a shower of glass shards across the skin. Her eyes adjusted, narrowed to slits, her lashes providing something of a filter. The pain faded to a tingle. At least the haze provided camouflage.

Just as she was about to start running, she sensed movement up ahead. Her heart lurched, pattered madly. It was that loutish, red-haired guard. He’d been watching her since the very first day of her arrival. Herding everyone along toward the registration desk, his arm had jostled against her breast — nothing accidental about it, his stare made clear.

Now he was strolling past the barracks, toes turned outward to accommodate his pork barrel of a belly. Why wasn’t he off playing poker, drunk out of his skull?

Pressed flat against the wall, she waited several seconds, sweat trickling down her rib cage. At last, he turned the corner. Still her heart wouldn’t stop hammering. Should she turn back? Of course she should. What on earth had she been thinking?

To her surprise, she found herself running ahead. Drawing the shawl over her head, she ran blindly, sticking close to the barrack walls — one dark building after another. The sky stretched open to swallow her up in its infinite blackness. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. A cramp cut across her abdomen and her legs turned rubbery as they sped across the ground with some force that seemed to come from beyond her own body. Sand blew back in her face and filled her mouth as she gasped for air.

The aqueduct passed along the edge of camp, a thin grey line that wound like a river into the distance. Never had she seen it up close. She paused to examine it in the moonlight: nothing but a dried-up trough. Probably hadn’t worked in decades — centuries, maybe. Relic of another time, when the land was moist and abloom.

She searched for Kaz but couldn’t see anyone. Where was she supposed to meet him? The aqueduct faded up ahead, obliterated by darkness. Her heart plummeted as she stood at the edge shivering, colder with every passing second.

A flicker in the shadows down the way. Down below. The ember of a cigarette illuminated Kaz’s face for a beautiful moment, and relief spread warmly across her chest.

Yet he wasn’t alone.

Whispers and muted laughter as she approached.

“My, my, if it isn’t our little beauty queen,” Kaz said. “I didn’t think you’d have the guts to come out here.”

As she jumped down, the force of the floor shot up through her ankles. “I was worried about you.”

“Aw, ya needn’t worry your pretty little head.”

A new cockiness came over him as he swung his arm around her shoulder, showing off in front of the guys. One of them was Kenny Honda. What on earth had she walked into?

There was something familiar about the other two faces. She recognized them from the old neighbourhood. Shig Nakane’s father used to own an auto repair around the corner from their dry-cleaning shop. Shig’s fingernails were black as the inside of a chimney despite having spent the past several months soaping dishes. The other guy was Akira Ogura, the older cousin of one of Lily’s old classmates. Well into his thirties, Akira had been working as a bookkeeper while studying to become an accountant, the last she’d heard. He’d always struck her as a pretty straitlaced fellow. She would have thought he’d become a JACC leader. Instead, a subtle defiance glinted in his eyes.

What had become of her romantic rendezvous?

Kaz’s demeanour wasn’t romantic at all. Welcoming her to their headquarters, he lit a match to reveal tiny words etched with a penknife on the wall: Black Dragon Society of Matanzas.

“Black Dragon?”

“They’re only the greatest secret society in Japan. High-ranking army officers, cabinet ministers, secret agents, hired killers.”

“It’s famous for sabotage missions and secret collecting,” Akira added.

Kenny smiled. “That’s why we’re starting a branch here.”

“But why? Why would we want to sabotage anything?”

“Look around you, Lily.”

“Don’t you think the government’s made it clear?” Kaz said. “We’re the enemy. Time to start acting like it.”

“But shouldn’t we just co-operate with the authorities, and soon the war’ll be over, and we’ll all be able to go home?”

“Oh, spare me all that JACC claptrap.”

Now Kenny looked irritated. “Why do we need a girl in on it, anyway?”

“A girl can be useful,” Kaz said.

Useful. Her lips curled into a smile as she cast her eyes downward. She thought of the doctor’s soft touch and the coolness of his stethoscope. His steady, compassionate gaze. She couldn’t let him down. Not now. Not ever.

“You can trust me,” she whispered.

“Good,” Kenny said. “’Cause your boyfriend’s been taking some pretty interesting pictures.”

“Pictures?”

“Not just pin-up girls, like the kind he takes of you. Real pictures. The kind that’ll help our cause.”

Kaz reached into his satchel. The circle tightened around him as Akira cupped his lighter to create a glow. An array of photographs fanned out in Kaz’s palms.

Wizened faces of old people: cracked, smiling bowls of clay. Their gnarled, claw-like hands digging through the soil.

Bean fields the old issei farmers had planted. Mammoth mountains looming above, laughing down on their meagre human efforts.

Massive camouflage nets hanging across the sky, all too familiar, yet also new in their strangeness, their rebirth as images. The shadowy faces of the weavers were barely visible on the other side. Could one of those dim, sad faces be her own?

While these pictures brought tears to Lily’s eyes, others filled her with a cold, stark terror. She couldn’t believe Kaz had managed to capture all this. Fights breaking out, pale faces strained to the point they looked like moonlit carvings, fists swinging in an arced blur. Men dropping to their knees, punched in the gut, photographed from weird angles. The camera must have been hidden under Kaz’s jacket.