Silent Honor (7 page)

“Peanut butter,” he explained, “with grape jelly.”

“I have never eaten this before,” she said cautiously, and Tami told her in no uncertain terms that she should really try it. But when she did, she made a polite, but startled, face. It was clearly not what she had expected.

“Good, huh?” Tami asked, as Hiroko wondered silently if her mouth would be glued together forever. Sally realized what was happening and handed her a glass of milk, but Hiroko's first taste of American food had not impressed her.

Takeo returned to the backyard with his charcoal then, and as he did, the dog came bounding into the kitchen. And as soon as she did, Hiroko smiled. This was at least a familiar breed. She was a type of Japanese dog called a Shiba. And she was obviously very friendly.

“Her name is Lassie,” Tami explained. “I loved the book.”

“Not that she looks anything like her. The real Lassie was a collie,” Ken said, and reminded Hiroko instantly of Yuji. It was the kind of thing he would have said. Ken reminded her a lot of Yuji, and in some ways it was comforting, but in others it made her even more homesick.

Ken went next door to visit his girlfriend, Peggy, that afternoon, and Sally disappeared quietly down the street, to a neighbor's. She would have offered to take Hiroko with her, but she was afraid Hiroko might tell her mom. She didn't know her that well yet. And Sally wanted to visit her friend because she had a particularly handsome sixteen-year-old brother she liked to flirt with.

Only Tami stayed home with them, but she was busy in the backyard with her dad, and Hiroko stayed in the kitchen to help her Aunt Reiko. Reiko was impressed with how quickly and competently Hiroko did everything. She said very little, and she expected no praise, but she moved around the kitchen, preparing things, like lightning. She understood quickly how the mashed potatoes were made, although she'd never seen them before, and she helped prepare the corn and make the salad. And when Tak asked his wife to marinate the meat for him, Hiroko was quick to learn that as well, and then she went outside with Reiko to help set the enormous buffet table. She was the quietest, most efficient girl Reiko had ever seen, and in spite of her obvious shyness, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Thank you for all the help,” Reiko said quietly to her when they went upstairs to change. She was a lovely girl, and Reiko knew they were going to enjoy her. She only hoped that Hiroko would be happy with them. But she had seemed happier that afternoon, once she had things to do. And it was only now, as they stood on the stairs, that she looked wistful again, and Reiko sensed without Hiroko saying it that she missed her parents. “I really appreciate it,” she said gently. ‘We're glad you're here, Hiroko.”

“I am very glad too,” Hiroko said, and bowed low to her older cousin.

“You don't need to do that here.” Reiko put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I do not know another way to show you respect, and thank you for your kindness,” she said, as Reiko walked her to Sally's bedroom. Hiroko's things were all neatly put away, and the only visible mess was Sally's.

“You don't need to show us respect. We understand how you feel. Here you can be less formal.” Hiroko began to bow again, and then stopped herself with a small smile.

“Here everything is very different,” Hiroko admitted. “I will have many things to learn, many new ways.” She was just beginning to understand what her father had meant when he said that he wanted her to see the world and learn new customs. She had never imagined for a minute that it would all be so completely different, especially in the house of her cousins.

“You will learn very quickly,” Reiko reassured her.

But as she stood at the barbecue that night, Hiroko wasn't so sure. She felt surrounded by a sea of chattering strangers. They came to meet her, they shook her hand, they greeted her, she bowed to them, and they talked about how adorable she was, how pretty her kimono was. But even though many of their faces were Japanese, all of them spoke English and were either nisei or sansei, first- or second-generation Americans. But most of them had lost their Japanese customs and traditions long before, and only their grandparents would have seemed familiar to Hiroko. There were lots of non-Japanese at the party too. And she felt lost amid all of them. She barely even knew her cousins. And after she had helped clear the buffet, she stood alone in their backyard for a time, looking up at the sky, and thinking about her parents.

“It must seem like a long way from home,” a voice said softly just behind her, and she turned in surprise to look at the man who had spoken to her. He was tall and young and had dark hair, and by Western standards he was very handsome. And then, just as quickly as she had looked up, she put her head down so he wouldn't see that she was crying. She was homesick, and so lonely.

She stood looking down in mortified silence as he introduced himself. “My name is Peter Jenkins,” he said, holding out a hand to her, and she shook it. And then she slowly looked up at him again. He was even taller than Kenji. He was very long and lean, with soft brown hair, blue eyes, and an air of solidity about him. He seemed very young, but he was actually twenty-seven, and Tak's assistant. He was an assistant political science professor at Stanford.

“I went to Japan once. It was the most beautiful country I've ever seen. I especially liked Kyoto.” He knew that was where she was from, and he really meant it. “This must all seem so foreign to you,” he said gently. “Just coming back from Japan was a shock for me. I can't even imagine what it must be like for you, never having been here.” Seeing his own culture through her eyes made it all seem very odd even to him, and he smiled at her warmly. He had a friendly face and kind eyes, and even without knowing him, she liked him.

But Hiroko lowered her eyes again in embarrassment, and smiled hesitantly. He was right. It was a shock. She had been trying to wrestle with all the new impressions and experiences that had assaulted her since that morning. Even her cousins had been different than she expected. And there seemed to be no one here that she could really talk to, at least not for the moment.

“I like it very much,” she said softly, staring at her feet, and feeling that she should have bowed to him, but Reiko seemed to think that she shouldn't. “I am very lucky,” she whispered, trying to look up at him, but unable to do it. She was simply too shy to look at him again, but he knew that. She was like a little girl, and yet very much a woman. And despite her age, she was nothing like any of his students. She was so much more delicate, so withdrawn, and yet at the same time, one sensed something quietly strong about her. She was an interesting girl, and apparently a bright one, but she had all the exquisite delicacy and gentleness of her culture, and just looking at her in the backyard, Peter Jenkins was bowled over by her. She embodied everything he had loved about Japanese women when he'd visited Japan. And all he could do now was stare at her, as she stood trembling before him.

“Would you like to go back inside?” he asked gently, sensing that he had cornered her there, and she was too embarrassed to flee him. She nodded, and barely glanced up at him through dark lashes. “I hear from Tak that you're going to St. Andrew's in September,” he said as they walked slowly back to the house, and he silently admired her kimono. It was lovely. A moment later he found Reiko chatting with two friends, and he left Hiroko there with her cousin, who smiled at him and introduced her easily to the two women.

Hiroko bowed low to them, showing her respect for the Tanakas' friends, and the women looked faintly amused as they watched her. Across the patio, Peter was telling Tak that he had just met their cousin.

“She's a sweet girl, poor thing, she must feel so lost here,” Peter said sympathetically. There was something about her that made you want to take her under your wing and protect her.

“She'll get used to it.” Tak smiled, holding a glass of wine. The barbecue had gone well, and everyone seemed to be enjoying the party. “I did.” He grinned. “You're just fascinated with Japan, ever since that trip you took.” It was true. Peter had been completely enamored with the entire country.

“I can't understand why you don't miss it.”

But Tak always said he loved the United States, and it was obvious he would have been a citizen if he could have become one, but he couldn't. Despite twenty years of living in the States and having married an American, it was against the law for him to become an American citizen.

“I was stifled there. Look at her.” Takeo glanced at his young cousin. To him, she embodied everything he had hated about Japan, and had fled from. “She is strangled and bound; she is afraid to look at us. She is wearing the same garment they wore five hundred years ago. She'll bind her breasts if she has any, and if she gets pregnant, she'll bind her stomach, and she probably won't even tell her husband she's expecting. When she's old enough, her parents will find her a husband she's never met before. And they'll never have a single real conversation. They'll spend their entire lives bowing to each other, and hiding their feelings. And it's exactly the same thing in business, only worse. Everything is run by tradition, everything is appearances and respect and custom. You can never just speak out and say what you feel, and go after a woman simply because you love her. I'd probably never have been able to marry Reiko in Japan, if we'd met there. I would have had to marry the woman my parents selected. I just couldn't live with it. Seeing Hiroko brought it all back to me today. She's like a bird in a cage, too frightened even to sing. No, I don't miss Japan,” he smiled ruefully, “but I'm sure she does. Her father's a good man, and somehow he managed to keep his spirit alive in spite of all that repression. He has a lovely wife, and I think they really like each other. But when I see Hiroko, I see it all again. Nothing ever changes there. It's oppressive,” he said, and Peter nodded. He had seen the repression there, and the traditions too. But he had seen so much more. He couldn't understand why Takeo didn't love it as he did.

“You have such a sense of history in Japan, just being there, knowing that nothing has changed for the last thousand years, and hopefully nothing will for the next thousand either. I loved it. And I love watching her. I love everything she stands for,” Peter said simply, as Tak looked at him in amusement.

“Don't let Reiko hear you say that. She thinks Japanese women never get a fair shake, and they're completely dominated by their husbands. She's as American as apple pie, and she loves that. She hated going to school there.”

“I think you're both crazy.” Peter smiled, and then he got pulled away by two of the other professors from Stanford, and he never got to speak to Hiroko again. But he saw her bowing as she said good night to some of the Tanakas' friends, and despite everything Tak had said, Peter thought she looked dignified and graceful. It was a custom he found touching, and not in any way degrading. And as he prepared to leave, their eyes met for a single moment, and for an instant he could have sworn that she looked right at him, but within a fraction of a second her eyes were lowered again and she was talking to one of her cousins.

No one had spoken Japanese to her that night, and she smiled when Peter bowed slightly to her before he left, and said
sayonara.
She looked up at him to see if he was making fun of her. But his eyes were warm, and he was smiling at her. She bowed formally to him then, and kept her eyes down when she told him that it had been an honor to meet him. He said the same, and then left with the attractive blonde he had come with. Hiroko watched him for a moment, and then took Tami upstairs to her bedroom. She was yawning and it was late, but she had had a good time. They all had. Even Hiroko had enjoyed it, although she didn't know anyone, and everything she touched or tasted or encountered was so different from everything she knew and everything she had expected.

“Did you have fun?” Reiko asked as Hiroko came down to help in the kitchen again, after putting Tami to bed. They had invited several students her age, but she had been too shy to speak to them. She had spent most of her time alone, or with Tami. Peter Jenkins was the only adult guest she had actually talked to. But that had been his doing and not hers. It had been difficult for her to speak to anyone, even him. She was just too shy, but she had found the evening interesting and the guests friendly.

“I have fun,” she confirmed, and Reiko smiled at her. She knew that Tami would take cafe of Hiroko's English. Lassie was lying on the floor wagging her tail as they spoke, waiting for scraps from the party. Ken and Tak were outside cleaning up the barbecue, and collecting abandoned glasses. Only Sally seemed not to be helping. She was in the downstairs closet, on the phone with a friend, and had promised half an hour before that she'd be off in a minute, but there was something she
had
to tell her.

“You were a big success,” Reiko said, and meant it. “Everyone loved meeting you, Hiroko. And I'm sure it wasn't easy.” The young girl blushed, and went on helping with the dishes in silence. She was so shy that it still surprised all of them, and yet Reiko had seen her talking to Peter. He had come to the party tonight with his new girlfriend. She was a model in San Francisco, and she had noticed Ken eyeing her with approval.

“Did everyone have a good time?” Tak inquired as he came in from the patio with a tray full of glasses. “I thought it was a really nice evening,” he complimented his wife, and smiled at Hiroko.

“I too,” she said softly. “Hamburgers are great,” she paraphrased Tami, and they all laughed, as Ken helped himself to some leftover chicken. He ate constantly, but he was the right age for that, and he was going to start football practice for school at the end of August. “Thank you for a very nice party,” Hiroko added politely, and a little while later they all went upstairs to their respective bedrooms.

Sally and Hiroko undressed quietly, and then slipped into bed in their nightgowns. And as they lay there, Hiroko thought of how far she had come, the long journey she'd had, the people she'd met, and the warm welcome she'd had from her cousins. Even if they weren't Japanese anymore, she liked all of them. She liked Ken, with his mischief and his long limbs, and his insatiable appetite, and Sally with her fascination with clothes and boys and telephones and secrets, and especially little Tami with her remarkable doll-house and determination to make Hiroko American, and their parents who had been so kind to her, and even given her a party. She liked their friends too …and even Lassie. She just wished, as she lay there, thinking about all of it and what an adventure it had been, that her parents and Yuji could have been there too. And maybe then she wouldn't have been so homesick.