Dolls of Hope (9 page)

C
hiyo pressed her face to the window. All the seats faced toward the engine. No one looked back toward her.

She pounded one hand on the glass and shouted, “Hello!” Her voice could not be heard over the blast of the whistle and the clatter of wheels on the rails.

Hana must still be sleeping. She at least would have missed her.

Hoshi and Kimiko talked together, looking as if neither had moved since leaving Tsuchiura. Someone had locked the door. It couldn’t have locked itself. Unless the latch had slipped. Could that happen?

Chiyo slid down to sit on the platform against the door, more sheltered from the wind. She rubbed an ashy spot on her skirt, wondering if it would ever be clean again. She had to wear it for the Welcome Ceremony.

Why was she thinking of the ceremony? She was trapped out here while her head reeled with Hoshi’s warning that people sometimes fell.

Chiyo huddled closer to the door.
I thought the six of us were becoming a family, sharing this wonderful experience. But we’re not a family. We’re not even a good group.

And the experience wasn’t so wonderful anymore.

The wheels rolled even faster. The train rattled and swayed. To one side, cows grazed and were gone. The train crossed a bridge she saw only when it was behind them. She spit out ash. She could not stay here all the way to Tokyo.

Carefully, she got to her feet and looked through the window again. She was surprised to see her teachers and some of the students standing. There was Hana, looking frightened and peering under seats. Shizuko and Tomi had opened windows and were leaning out, looking back.

They couldn’t see the platform. She thought of leaning around the end of the train, but the railing didn’t cover the stairs. There was nothing safe to hold on to. She moved back to the window. Why didn’t anyone look this way?

If they couldn’t find her, would they stop the train? Would the engineer back it up, looking for her? The platform might jerk and toss her onto the rails!

She peered harder through the heavy glass, her nose almost touching it. How could she catch someone’s eye? Her uniform was dark. So was her hair.

She thought of the red silk purse Yamada Nori had given her and fished it from a pocket while clinging to the door handle. It was going to be filthy. That couldn’t be helped.

She waved the red purse frantically against the glass. The clasp came open. Coins spilled out, bouncing and rolling around her feet. She darted after them, grabbing too late as her largest coin bounced down the steps and away. Three smaller coins followed.

“No! Noooo!”

Those are gone,
her thoughts warned.
Save the rest!

She sank to her knees, throwing her skirt wide to cover spinning coins. Tears threatened, and she wiped them away. Hoshi was not going to see tear tracks on her face.

She was afraid to lift her skirt to see if any coins were saved. How could she tell Yamada Nori that his money jumped off the train?

She wanted to blame someone. She wanted to blame Hoshi, who must have locked her out here.
But I was the one who chased the orange vendor.

Money should be saved, not spent on pleasure. Yamada Nori was wrong. In my village, even a sen is precious. And now I’ve lost all that he gave me.

The mental scale weighed heavily on the bad-conduct side. But she would not sit here feeling sorry for herself. She reached for her skirt to look for trapped coins.

The door swung inward. Oki-sensei grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. The remaining coins spun, with sen and rin flying off the platform.

“My money!”

“Your safety is my concern. What are you doing out here?”

Chiyo lunged for a golden yen — a yen!— near her shoe, but the teacher yanked her inside the car. “Answer me! You had us all frantic! Why were you out there?”

Chiyo looked back in anguish. “I wanted an orange. My money fell on the platform! Sensei, it’s all I have!”

“Take your seat, Miss Tamura. Now.”

Chiyo stumbled to her row. “Someone locked the door,” she told Hana, gulping back tears she would not shed. “Most of my money bounced off the train and the rest is on the platform!”

“Miss Tamura,” Sensei warned again. “Sit down.”

Hana exclaimed, “Someone locked her out there!”

Sensei’s mouth got thin. “Did you see someone lock the door, Miss Nakata?”

“No, but Chiyo was locked out.”

“We will blame the wind or a faulty latch.” Oki-sensei’s tone forbade argument. “Miss Tamura is now safely inside, where she will remain. The matter is closed.”

“Not to me!” Hana said with fire still in her voice.

Oki-sensei returned to her seat beside Watanabe-sensei and frowned all the girls into facing forward.

Hana said fiercely to Chiyo, “It was Hoshi!”

“We think that because of her threat.” Feeling hollow inside, Chiyo stared out the window. She remembered Yamada-san warning that Miss Nagata was known to be high-spirited. After losing her money, she didn’t want to get Hana in trouble, too.

“We’ll get even with her,” Hana said, as if hearing the thought. “You wait! We will!”

Chiyo drew a deep breath, longing to run to the door to see if even one sen remained. In her mind, she pictured all her coins bumping and spinning off the platform, but one might be lying flat. The yen might still be there. She would look carefully when they left the train in Tokyo.

I am not here to shop,
she reminded herself.
I’m here for the American dolls. I don’t need shopping to make sure Hoshi doesn’t hurt one of them.

A
s they approached Tokyo, Chiyo marveled at thatched-roof homes stretching to either side. “They’re as close together as a farmer’s cabbages.”

Hana laughed. “I’m glad you’re able to smile again.”

“This might be my only chance to see the city,” Chiyo answered. “I’m not going to ruin it over coins I didn’t expect to have in the first place.” But she couldn’t help wishing that she could have given a nice gift to her parents.

The thatched homes gave way to taller buildings. Soon the train pulled into Tokyo Station, billowing steam. Wheels shrieked as the cars lurched, forcing those in the aisles to clutch seat backs. Chiyo stumbled toward the aisle. She meant to be first to the platform at the back, but a large woman with a basket stepped in front of her, then let everyone ahead into the aisle, including Hoshi and Kimiko.

Chiyo’s stomach clenched. She wasn’t even surprised to hear Hoshi exclaim loudly, “Look, Kimiko! A shiny new yen. Maybe it will bring me luck!”

Hana shouted past Chiyo’s shoulder, “You know that belongs to Chiyo!” But the train whistle blew, a fresh burst of steam blasted in from the open door, and everyone still aboard hurried to reach the station platform.

Chiyo resisted a need to shove past them all. Rude behavior might be reported to Headmaster, and that side of the scale was getting heavier.

Hana said, “We should tell Sensei.”

Chiyo shook her head. There wasn’t anything she could do except add another mark against Hoshi’s name in her mind.

When they stood on the station platform, the smell of smoke and hot metal made their noses wrinkle. Oki-sensei bustled about, locating luggage and guiding the girls into waiting rickshaws. As their bearer hurried them through crowded city streets, Chiyo, Hana, and Tomi sat together, pointing out one sight after another. Automobiles rumbled past, startling Chiyo with their speed and power. And what was coming along the street now?

“It’s an electric streetcar,” Oki-sensei called from the rickshaw ahead as a large vehicle whizzed past on tracks laid in the street. It looked scary to Chiyo. People sat on long benches facing the street while the car traveled rapidly along. How did they keep from falling off?

Shop windows held more goods than she had ever imagined.
Hina ningyo
for a Hinamatsuri display posed on the tiers of a crimson-draped stand in one window; there were even more dolls and accessories than she had seen in Yamada Nori’s home that night.

A bicyclist pedaling past blocked the view with many bamboo birdcages roped together behind and above him. Smells crowded the air until it was impossible to tell one from another. Chiyo thought she smelled fresh yuzu and soy sauce among a mixture of aromas from herbs and roasting meats. Vendors busy with small hibachis offered skewers of cooked meats and vegetables to people passing by.

Chiyo recognized the smell of river water and wet green plants when the rickshaws traveled across a wide bridge. Below, large and small boats, many with sails, crowded the water and lined both shores. Hana said, “Some of those boatmen have traveled from Tsuchiura to sell their goods. The journey takes a strong wind and days of travel.”

Yumi and Kimi would never believe all she was seeing, and the trip had barely begun.

When the rickshaws stopped, Oki-sensei pronounced their hotel to be satisfactory, although she had once stayed at the Grand Hotel in Yokohama. As they gathered in the lobby, she told them sadly that the great Kanto earthquake four years before had destroyed the Grand, along with much of the harbor and city. In her mind, no other hotel could compare with that lost grandeur.

This was grand enough for Chiyo. She glanced at Hoshi and tried to walk through the lobby with the same straight spine and graceful steps. It was hard to keep her eyes down while longing to look from side to side.

Golden tatami mats floored a room vast enough to hold her entire house and maybe Yumi’s as well. How could Oki-sensei keep saying that this hotel could never compare with the majestic Grand?

“Do you know a famous American writer named Rudyard Kipling stayed there?” Sensei asked. “As well as several well-known actors? The guests today . . .” She glanced at a group wearing western clothes and shook her head. “They cannot compare.”

Chiyo couldn’t help casting quick glances after the group in western clothing.
Otousan
wore soft trousers and a loose tunic to work in the fields, but those were nothing like the suits of fine cloth and closer fit on the men here.

Yamada Nori had worn such clothing at the school. He must have been as comfortable in Tokyo as in Tsuchiura. Was Masako adventurous enough to live in two worlds?
I will have so much to tell my sister when I see her again.

When the group reached an upstairs hallway, Hana grabbed Chiyo’s hand. “Run!”

Startled, Chiyo raced with her to an open doorway where young men were taking the luggage. Hana pulled her past them to a corner window and onto a futon. “Hoshi will expect to sleep near the windows.”

“Too late,” Chiyo said, flinging herself flat.

The rest of the group soon came into the room. While Oki-sensei dealt with the luggage, Hoshi walked over to Chiyo and Hana. “This corner is mine.”

Chiyo sat beside Hana and smiled sweetly, both of them closing their eyes in their burned-doll look.

“Ohh!” Hoshi stalked over to the others. “Sensei, my father paid for the room. He expects me to have the view.”

Sensei waved away the luggage carriers, looking distracted. “Fortunately, you are too polite to complain, Miss Miyamoto. And after all, you were not the first to claim the spot.”

Hoshi’s shocked expression made Chiyo turn away to hide laughter. Hana leaned close. “Sensei knows who locked you on the train platform, but she won’t risk General Miyamoto’s outrage to say so. He would never believe that his perfect daughter would do such a thing.”

Chiyo hadn’t realized that Hoshi’s spiteful act could cause a problem for their teacher. For the first time, she understood why Sensei had said that since Chiyo was safely inside the train, the matter was closed.

But she was uneasy about claiming the space with the view. “Won’t Sensei expect to sleep near the windows?”

“She’ll sleep nearest the door to be sure we all stay inside. You’ll see.”

Chiyo lay back on the soft futon, thinking how much nicer it was than her sleeping mat at home. She meant to enjoy every minute of this trip, but she would sleep with one eye open, in case Hoshi decided to accidentally drop a cushion over her face and sit on it.

S
liding paper
fusuma
screens divided the large room into sections. As Hana had expected, Oki-sensei chose an area near the doorway.