Authors: Danielle Steel
On Sunday morning, Hiroko went to play tennis with three girls who had signed up. They were polite and pleasant to her, although one of the girls seemed to hesitate when she arrived. But after a few minutes, she didn't seem to have any objection to playing with Hiroko. It was often that way for her. People reacted to her at first, uncomfortable about how foreign she was, and the fact that she was Japanese, but often they would relax a little bit once they knew her. Some of them were simply unable to overcome their prejudice, particularly the girls from San Francisco. They were notorious for disliking Japanese, and for assuming that they came from uneducated backgrounds. In truth, Hiroko's family was more cultured, and far older, than most of theirs. Her father could trace his family back to the fourteenth century, and her mother even further, but they had no great wealth or aristocratic fortune, like the Spencers.
Hiroko and her partner won the doubles game, and the girls had lemonade in the cafeteria, and chatted amiably about the game. They told Hiroko they'd like to play with her again, and for the first time in three months she felt as though she'd made some friends, and she decided that maybe she'd just had bad luck with her roommates.
It was just after eleven o'clock when she went back to her room to change, and as she stepped out of the shower half an hour later, she could hear someone screaming. She thought there had been an accident, and without hesitating, she grabbed her dressing gown, tied it around herself without even taking the time to get dry, and hurried into the hallway. There were little clusters of girls gathered all along the hall, several people had radios on, and most of the girls were crying, particularly the girl three doors away, from Hawaii.
“What is happening?” Hiroko asked anxiously. She had no idea what had occurred, but everyone looked frightened and frantic, and someone on another floor was shouting down the stairs. Hiroko struggled to understand what they were saying. No one seemed to have heard her question.
“We've been bombed!” the voice said. “We've been bombed!” Someone else shouted, and unconsciously Hiroko glanced toward the window, but saw nothing. Another girl turned to her in tears and all she could say was, “They've bombed Pearl Harbor.” She had no idea where that was, and neither did most of the girls, but the girl from Hawaii was deathly pale. She knew exactly where it was.
“It's in Hawaii,” she said in answer to someone's question. And then someone else explained further.
“The Japanese have just bombed Pearl Harbor.” Hiroko felt her heart turn to stone as she listened, as someone else said, “It can't be.”
“What if they come here?” someone screamed, and suddenly everyone was crying and shouting, and running everywhere. There was pandemonium in the halls of St. Andrew's College, and Hiroko was struggling to understand what had happened. It still wasn't clear to everyone. But it appeared that the Japanese had made two bombing runs on United States military bases in the Hawaiian Islands. Supposedly, all of the American planes on the ground had been destroyed, an undisclosed number of ships had been sunk, and still more were burning. Countless men had been killed and maimed, and although the details were as yet unknown, it was obviously an extremely serious assault on American soil, and it was inevitable that within hours war would be declared, if it hadn't already. And the girl's worst fears, mirroring those of the entire West Coast, were that the same planes would head straight for California.
Girls were continuing to shriek in the halls, and as tears streamed down her cheeks, Hiroko slipped slowly back into her room, wondering what this could possibly mean. What had really happened? Were they truly at war? Were her parents safe? Would she have to go home? Would she be arrested by the police? Would she be sent to jail, and then deported? Would Yuji have to go to war? It was all beyond imagining, and suddenly everything she'd heard for months about conferences with Japan, and broken treaties in Europe, and Hitler and Mussolini and Stalin, all came into focus. The world was at war, and she was part of it now. Most horrible of all, she was the enemy in a foreign land, and she was four thousand miles away from her parents.
It was another hour before she ventured back into the hall, after she put her clothes on. Many of the girls had gone back to their rooms, but some were still there, talking and crying, and listening to other girls' radios from their doorways. She was almost afraid to walk among them now, and then suddenly she saw one of the girls with whom she had played tennis. She was also from Hawaii, and she was crying. Two hours before, she had been one of Hiroko's new friends, and now, through an act of war, they were enemies, and she turned and looked at Hiroko with raw hatred.
“You! How can you even dare to look at us! My parents could be dead by now …and you're the one who did it!” It was completely illogical, but emotions ran high that day, and the other girl from Hawaii ran out into the hall to scream at her, and, sobbing uncontrollably, Hiroko ran back to her room in terror.
She stayed in her room all afternoon, listening to the radio and the terrifying reports that continued to come in, but at least there had been no air attacks on California. There was panic in the streets, and in the air, and everyone was being warned to be on the lookout for enemy planes. Sailors and soldiers were recalled, and civilians had been pouring into police and fire stations all afternoon to volunteer for civil defense jobs. The United States had never been attacked on its own soil before, and no one had ever seen anything like it.
Tak and Reiko tried to call her that afternoon, but no one would put the call through to her. They said they were keeping the lines open for emergency calls, and Tak didn't dare single her out for more attention. He was afraid that she was experiencing exactly what she was going through, and he was worried about her all day, but he didn't want to drive there and leave his wife and children. They were all upset too, and their only concern was for the United States. They had no ties left to Japan, except with Hiroko's father. Takeo tried unsuccessfully to reach him too, and then finally decided on a telegram, asking him to confirm that all was well with them, and what he wanted them to do with his daughter. If the United States declared war on Japan, which seemed inevitable now, he assumed that Masao would want her kept safe in the States, but on the other hand, Takeo wasn't sure the authorities would let her stay. It was a dilemma that would have to be solved when they had more information.
It was after six o'clock by the time Tak was finally able to get through to Hiroko, and by then she was hysterical. She had stayed in her room all day, afraid to come out and be attacked for what her country had done to Pearl Harbor. And no one had come into the room. She worried why no one from home called her. She had no contact with anyone, as she sat and sobbed, until finally one of the monitors came to tell her that her uncle was on the phone, and escorted her downstairs without further comment. And when she got there, all Hiroko could do was sob, and speak Japanese to him, telling him how terrible it was, how worried she was about all of them, her parents, and Reiko and Tak and the children. She couldn't even remember her English. She was an eighteen-year-old girl, alone in a foreign land, among enemies and strangers. But at least she had them, he reminded her. And she silently remembered that she had Peter. Or perhaps he would hate her now too. Perhaps no one would ever speak to her again. She had waited all day for the police to come, and was astounded when they hadn't. She had waited, too, for someone from the university to ask her to leave, but perhaps all of that would happen on Monday, she told her cousin.
“Now, calm down,” Takeo told her on the phone. “None of that is happening. And none of this is your fault. Let's see what the President says tomorrow”— although he also felt war was certain—”and I want to get in touch with your father. I'm not at all sure that you'll be asked to leave. You're a student and you got trapped here, and they'll either get you passage back to Japan or let you stay here. No one is going to put you in jail, Hiroko, for heaven's sake. You're not a foreign agent. And your father may actually want you to stay here, if that's possible—it may be safer.” He was making perfect sense, but he wasn't an eighteen-year-old girl, and he hadn't been alone in his room all day, surrounded by hostile female students.
“What about Mama and Papa and Yuji? If there's a war with Japan, they won't be safe either.”
“They'll do the best they can. But you'll be better off here, with us. I'll do what I can to find out what's going on tomorrow and I'll call you. Just calm down, and don't panic.”
It had been reassuring talking to him, and later that night she got a call from Peter. He wanted to know if she was all right, and if she was staying at school, or going back to Palo Alto. He had spent a frantic afternoon, worrying about her, and trying to get through without success. He hadn't wanted to call her cousins to see if they had reached her, because he didn't want to admit just how involved he was with her, although they certainly suspected.
“Are you all right?” he asked nervously. He suspected from all she'd said that they were being awful to her, and he was afraid she'd get hurt if she stayed there.
“I'm fine, Peter-san,” she said bravely.
“Are you coming home? To the Tanakas, I mean.”
“I don't know. Uncle Tak wants me to stay here. He's going to speak to some people tomorrow and see what this means for me, if
I'll
have to leave …and he wants to try to reach my father.”
“He'd better do it quick.” Peter said tersely. “I suspect that after tomorrow well be out of touch with them for a long time.” And he wasn't sure what this meant for her either. “What about school? Can you really stay there, is it safe?”
“I'm all right. Tak thinks I should stay and see what happens.” Peter didn't agree with him, but he didn't want to worry her. After the cool reception she'd had, he doubted things would improve now, and he thought she should go back to Palo Alto. “What is happening there, Peter-san?” she asked. She felt cut off from everything in Berkeley.
“People are going crazy here. Everyone is panicked. They all think the Japanese are going to bomb the West Coast, and they might, but they haven't yet, so that's something.” It had been a long day for all of them. No one had any idea what was coming.
What neither of them knew was that the FBI started making arrests that night, of people they suspected of being spies and wanted to question. Many of them were commercial fishermen with shortwave radios on their boats, others were people they had watched for weeks, or suspected of enemy associations.
“I will be back in Palo Alto at the end of this week anyway,” she said to him. Friday was the start of her Christmas vacation.
“I'll talk to you before that. And Hiroko …” He hesitated, not wanting to frighten her, but he wanted her to know that he would take care of her, no matter what happened. “If anything happens, try to stay calm, and stay there. I'll come and get you.” He sounded so serious and so firm. She smiled for the first time all day as she listened to him.
“Thank you, Peter-san.”
She walked slowly back to her room then, and that night she slept alone. Neither of her roommates wanted to share a room with her. And no one said a word to her as she went to her room and closed the door. She sat alone on the bed, thinking of Peter. And the next morning, they all had their answer.
At nine-thirty San Francisco time, President Roosevelt addressed Congress. It took him six minutes, and he asked them to declare war on Japan. Not only had the Japanese chosen to ignore “conversations with its government and its Emperor, looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific, but they had deliberately planned, and bombed, not only our military installations in the Hawaiian Islands, but also Malaya, the Philippines, Wake Island, Guam, Midway, and Hong Kong.” The attack on the Pacific had been complete and extensive. War had in effect been declared the day before, and Roosevelt only wanted Congress to confirm it. With the exception of one vote, they voted unanimously, and the documents were signed at one o'clock that afternoon. In retaliation, by the end of the day, Japan had declared war on both the United States and Britain. America was in the war at last.
But just before all communication had ended officially, one of the consul's last acts in San Francisco was to call Tak with a message from Masao. He had said he wanted Hiroko to stay in San Francisco if at all possible, if America and Japan declared war on each other. He felt more comfortable with her there, and urged Tak to keep her with them. And he also sent the message that Yuji had joined the air force, and they all sent their warmest thoughts to their cousins.
In the United States, it was not only a day of infamy, as Roosevelt had said, but also a day of chaos. Japanese-owned banks, businesses, newspapers, and radio stations were seized. Fishing boats were seized as well, and even small businesses were closed. Some Germans and Italians were questioned and held, but mainly Japanese. The borders were sealed, and no Japanese national could buy an air ticket to go anywhere, so Hiroko couldn't have left anyway. The entire West Coast was on alert, and at six-forty that night there was an air raid. There was an unconfirmed report from somewhere of hostile aircraft approaching. People scattered everywhere, women screamed, and in their homes and basements and makeshift bomb shelters, people waited for the attack that never came, and finally, the sirens abated. All the radio stations had gone off the air, and in spite of precautions in the cities, afterward everyone realized that the prison island of Alcatraz had remained lit up like a beacon.
A second air raid siren went off that night, and the radio stations went off the air again. And again, after terrifying everyone, nothing happened.
The third one went off at one-thirty
A.M.
, and yet again the radio stations disappeared from the air, and once again everyone scampered to safety, this time in their nightgowns and bathrobes, holding children in their arms, dragging pets with them.