Free When the Cherry Blossoms Fell by Jennifer Maruno Page B

mumbled.
    Michiko held her rice ball on the palm of her hand and nibbled it.
    â€œDid the Ainu draw rock pictures too?” she asked.
    Ted shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “All I know is the bear is important to them.” He tossed Clarence a second rice ball. “You know something funny?” he asked.
    â€œWhat,” they said in unison. Michiko giggled.
    â€œBoth tribes, on different sides of the world, knew the same things.” He patted the side of the red rowboat. “They both knew how to build boats and how to catch fish.”
    They finished their lunch in silence. Michiko thought about the people of the wilderness.
    â€œWell, Clarence,” Ted said when everything they’d brought was eaten. “You and I have got to do some serious fishing.” He pushed the
Apple
away from shore and let it drift.
    Clarence stuck a fresh minnow on his hook and threw his line over the side.
    By the time the sun went behind the mountains, a dozen shimmering trout flopped about the bottom of the boat.
    â€œThanks a lot,” Clarence said to Ted as they returned the small red boat to its wooded cove. He held his fish up with pride as he made his way into the forest. Then he stopped, turned back and yelled. “See you in school, Millie.”
    Michiko looked sideways at her uncle. Busy with his tackle box, he didn’t seem to have noticed.

Eleven
How to Spot a Jap
    The next morning, Michiko found Clarence waiting for her by the bridge. They leaned over the railing, watching the river rush noisily around the bend. Michiko pondered the differences between them. She wondered if Clarence knew she was Japanese. Together they walked up the main road to the schoolyard.
    George’s bike rested against the school wall. He stood on top of the schoolyard picnic table, waving a roll of yellow paper. “I’m telling you,” he said as he hit his knee with the paper, “soon this place will be swarming with them.”
    Clarence leaned his tall, thin frame against the side wall. Michiko moved into the shade of the only tree in the dusty yard. Even though it was early, the sun beat down without mercy.
    â€œThose houses in the orchard are being built for Japs,” George announced.
    â€œWhy?” asked a boy from the crowd.
    â€œBecause they got kicked off the Island,” George replied. “Don’t you know there’s a war going on?”
    â€œMy dad’s gone off to fight,” another boy announced proudly.
    â€œBob’s dad is off fighting the Japs,” George said. “What do we do?”
    No one spoke, making George answer his own question. “We build houses and make them feel right at home.” He pointed the roll of paper at the crowd. “Is that fair?” he asked. “Is it fair that Bob’s dad is fighting the Japs, and we’re helping them?”
    The children looked at each other. A couple of them shrugged.
    Then one boy spoke up. “I thought the new people in town were Chinese.”
    â€œI’m telling you they’re Japs,” George said.
    â€œHow are we supposed to know the difference?” a girl asked.
    Michiko wrapped her arms around her waist, her stomach in knots.
    George waved the roll of paper in his hands with glee. “I was hoping you’d ask,” he said. He smacked it into the palm of his hand. “This is what I want to show you.” He turned the roll sideways and opened it. “My dad brought this home from the city.”
    The crowd of boys and girls surged forward.
    â€œ
Two men are picked up by a patrol
,” George read out loudly.
    â€œWhat’s a patrol?” one of the girls asked.
    â€œIt’s a military word,” George barked. “Stop interrupting.” He began again. “
Two men are picked up by a patrol. One man is Chinese, and one man is Japanese. How do you tell the difference?”
He stopped and eyed the crowd.
    â€œWho