Silent Honor (9 page)

“Are you excited about it?” he asked, excited himself that he was actually having a conversation with her. It meant a lot to him to make her comfortable. He wasn't sure why, but it did. He wanted her to feel at ease with him, and to get to know her better.

“I am afraid, perhaps, Peter-san,” she said, astounding him with her honesty. In spite of her timidity, she was very direct sometimes, but he hadn't yet learned that about her. “Maybe they will not like me, if I am so very different.” She looked up at him with wise eyes. She was enchanting with her beautiful manners and graceful ways. He couldn't imagine anyone not liking her, particularly not a group of eighteen-year-old girls, and he smiled at the suggestion.

“I think they will like you very much,” he said, barely concealing his own admiration for her, as Takeo watched them. For an instant he wondered if Peter was unusually interested in her, and then decided he was just being foolish.

“She's going to wear regular clothes when she goes to school,” Tami said, and Hiroko giggled. She knew that Tami was still worried that her cousin would go to college with her kimonos. “Right, Hiroko?”

“Right, Tami-san. I will wear clothes just like Sally.” But she realized now that the Western clothes she had brought looked out-of-date and somewhat old-fashioned. Neither she nor her mother had known what to select when they went shopping in Kyoto. But seeing the clothes that Sally and Reiko wore, she realized how ugly her new clothes were.

“I like your kimonos, Hiroko-san,” Peter said quietly. “They suit you.”

But Hiroko was so embarrassed by his words that she looked down again and did not answer.

After dinner, they played Monopoly again, and this time Hiroko joined in. She had played with them at the lake, and had gotten good at
it.
She understood the game, and when Sally or Ken cheated she always caught them, as she did that night, and there were wild squeals and laughter as Takeo and Peter dropped out and went to get a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Reiko was still there putting away the dishes. She smiled at them and poured them each a cup of coffee, and the three adults looked back into the living room and watched the antics of the four children. Not that Hiroko was a child anymore, or even Ken, but there was still a wonderful innocence about them.

“She's a lovely girl.” Peter said wistfully, as Takeo nodded. He couldn't help remembering his cousin Masao's admonitions to him before she came, not to let her get romantically involved with anyone during her year at St. Andrew's College, and there was something in Peter's eyes now that suggested to Tak that he liked her. But on the other hand, Peter had a girlfriend and Takeo told himself he was being too protective. Hiroko was barely more than a child, although she was certainly very beautiful, and her sweetness and innocence were very alluring.

“She is lovely,” Tak agreed quietly. “But she's a child,” and then he realized, as he said the words, that she was the same age Reiko had been when he met her. He was thirty and Reiko was one of his students. It wasn't inconceivable that the same thing could hap-pen to Peter. Tak and Reiko had married six months after they met, but Hiroko seemed so childlike in comparison to the girl Reiko had been that Takeo felt foolish for what he'd been thinking. But still, there was a look in Peter's eyes, whenever he looked at her—although Peter would have denied it, if Tak had asked him. What Tak had sensed remained unspoken between them. Takeo glanced at his wife and smiled. They had been happy for two decades. And then he glanced back at his young cousin, still cavorting with their children.

Hiroko was so Japanese, in so many ways. And she was going back to Japan in a year. And although her father had modern ideas, having his daughter marry an American had never been one of them. Masao did not want her dating anyone, not even a Japanese boy, for the moment. He wanted her back in Japan long before her thoughts turned to romance, or marriage.

“I really like Carole,” Peter said suddenly, as though trying to convince himself, but even to his own ears he didn't sound entirely sincere. He was far more impressed by Hiroko's beauty and gentleness than by his striking blond girlfriend with the modeling career. She was beautiful, but she was also shallow, and he knew it. Oddly enough, comparing the two women made him uncomfortable. And as they walked back into the living room to observe the Monopoly game again, he reminded himself of how young Hiroko was and how silly he was to be so enchanted by her. It was just that she looked so like a doll,-and he loved her discreet manners and fascinating traditions. And as he watched her, he couldn't help noticing again how gentle she was, and how pretty she looked when she laughed. She was teasing Ken, and her laughter sounded like wind chimes. And it disturbed him to realize that as the game wore on, he couldn't take his eyes from her. He hoped no one else noticed it, and took comfort in the fact that whatever he felt for her could be stopped even before it began. Peter had no intention of falling in love with a girl her age, or causing her, or her family, any problems.

He seemed quiet that night when he finally went home. And despite all the laughter that had come before, Hiroko bowed seriously to him, and he bowed back to her. But this time, he said nothing when he left them. And as he drove back to his own house in Menlo Park, he was lost in thought. He felt as though he had been slowly carried away by tides that were so subtle he hadn't even noticed. But at least he was aware of it. He would not allow himself to be swept away by her, no matter how appealing she was. Absolutely nothing was going to happen between him and Hiroko.

After Peter left, Hiroko asked her cousin if Peter-san had been angry. She had noticed how quiet he was, and how little he had said to them when he left.

“Angry? No. Why?” Reiko looked surprised, but Takeo understood the question. He had noticed it too, and it concerned him. Something had been bothering Peter, and Takeo had seen him watching Hiroko very closely. It seemed awkward to object, and yet he had wanted to warn Peter not to let himself get carried away by his emotions.

“He was very serious when he said good-bye,” Hiroko explained, and her Uncle Tak nodded.

“He has a lot of work to think about, Hiroko. So do you. You will be starting school soon.” And as he said it, she wondered if he was angry at her too, if she had behaved improperly somehow with Peter. But her aunt was smiling at her, and she didn't seem disturbed,
so
perhaps her uricle's
tone
meant nothing. But as she went to bed that night, she was worried. Had she done something wrong? Had she offended him? Did they think her too modern or too forward? This new world of hers was so confusing. But by morning, all her concerns seemed to be forgotten, and she decided that she had been foolish. Her uncle had explained Peter's silence satisfactorily. He had a great deal of work to think about. So much so that he didn't come back to dinner during the next two weeks, and on the seventh of September, the entire family drove her to St. Andrew's College in the green Chevy wagon.

It was a beautiful school. The grounds were carefully tended, and there were just over nine hundred students. Most were from San Francisco, or Los Angeles, or elsewhere in California, and a handful were from other states, or Hawaii. There was a girl from France, and another one from England, who was spending the war in the States, having been sent there by her parents. But Hiroko came from by far the greatest distance.

A senior greeted her when she arrived, and she was assigned a room with two other students. She saw their names on the bulletin board—Sharon Williams from Los Angeles, and Anne Spencer from San Francisco—but neither of them had arrived yet.

Reiko and Sally helped her unpack her things while Ken and Tak waited downstairs with Tami. She had been miserable all day. She didn't want her cousin Hiroko to leave them.

“Don't be silly,” Reiko had said. “She'll come to us on weekends whenever she can, and for all her vacations.”

“But I want her to stay with us,” Tami had said unhappily. “Why can't she go to Stanford with Daddy?” Her parents had thought of it, but St. Andrew's was a small, exclusive women's school, and probably a better place for a girl who had lived as sheltered a life as Hiroko's had been. In comparison, Stanford seemed enormous, and it was coed, which Hidemi had absolutely refused to agree to. This had seemed the perfect compromise solution.

But now even Hiroko had her doubts, as they unpacked her things in one of the room's three tiny closets. They were actually lockers. Suddenly she felt as though she were losing her family again, and she looked as glum as Tami when she came back downstairs. She didn't want to leave them.

She was wearing a brown skirt that her mother had bought her, and a beige sweater set that had come with it, and she was wearing the small string of pearls her parents had given her for her eighteenth birthday. She was wearing silk stockings and high heels, and a little brown hat tilted at a rakish angle. Sally had helped her put it on, and she thought she looked great, a lot better than she looked in a kimono, but Hiroko missed the comfort of the familar garment and the bright silks she had worn all her life. In her new clothes, she felt naked.

Another senior escorted them around the grounds, and showed them the dining room and the library, and the gym, and eventually there was nothing left for her cousins to do, and Tak said they should get back to Palo Alto. Peter and his friend Carole were coming for dinner. And even hearing that news made her heart sink. She felt as though she were being deserted by all of them. Her life had been nothing but good-byes for the past two months, and this one was almost as hard as the last one.

Tami cried as they left, and Sally hugged Hiroko tight and made her promise to call whenever she could. She wanted to know all about Hiroko's roommates, and any boys she might meet. And Ken told her that if she needed him to beat anyone up, let him know and he'd drive right over. Aunt Reiko reminded her to call if she needed anything, and looking at Uncle Tak only made Hiroko think of her father, and the lump in her throat grew so large that she couldn't even speak as they left her. She just waved as they drove off, and walked slowly back to her dorm room to wait for her roommates.

It was five o'clock by the time the first one arrived. She had come by train from Los Angeles, and she had bright red hair, and a personality to go with it. She was full of fife, and she took photographs of a dozen movie stars out of her suitcase, and started putting them up all around the mirror. Even Hiroko knew who they were, and she was deeply impressed when Sharon said casually to her that her father was a producer. According to her, she had met them all, and she told Hiroko which ones she liked and which ones she didn't.

“Is your mother a movie star?” Hiroko asked with wide eyes, enormously impressed by the people Sharon claimed as old friends of her parents. She was obviously someone very important. Hiroko knew her parents would have loved that.

“My mom is married to a Frenchman, and they live in Europe. She's in Geneva now, because of the war,” she said offhandedly, artfully covering up the fact that the divorce had not only been a public scandal in Los Angeles, but also very painful. She hadn't seen her mother in three years, although on Christmas and birthdays she sent Sharon lovely presents.

“What's Japan like?” she asked, hopping onto her bed after she'd unpacked. She was obviously intrigued by Hiroko. The only Japanese she'd ever met had been gardeners and maids, but Hiroko had said her father was a professor in Kyoto. “What does your mom do?” she asked, intrigued. “Does she do anything?” Hiroko looked faintly puzzled by the questions. Reiko was a nurse, but that was here. In Japan, most women did not have professions.

“She is only a woman,” she explained, hoping that that covered it. Sharon got up, stared out the window, and whistled.

“Zowie,” she said admiringly, as they both stood and watched a staggeringly pretty girl climb out of a limousine, with the assistance of a liveried chauffeur. She had long, slim legs, and blond hair, and she was wearing a straw hat and a white silk dress that looked like it had been made for her in Paris. “Who do we have here? Carole Lombard?”

“A movie star?” Hiroko's eyes grew wide in astonishment, as Sharon laughed.

“I don't think so. Probably just one of us. My dad has a car like that. But he didn't want to drive me up here. He and his girlfriend went to Palm Springs for the weekend.” She didn't want to tell Hiroko how lonely her life had been. For all intents and purposes, given who her parents were, hers was a life anyone would have envied. But the truth was far from what she was describing to Hiroko. And Hiroko was far too naive to understand the implications of all that Sharon was saying.

But as they contemplated who the new arrival might be, there was a knock on the door, and the liveried chauffeur they had just seen entered the room carrying a bag, just two steps ahead of Miss Anne Spencer. She was very tall and very cool. She had white-blond hair, and ice-blue eyes, and she looked them both over without hesitation.

“Anne Spencer?” Sharon asked her boldly. When she nodded, Sharon pointed out the closet to the chauffeur.

“Yes?” She didn't look impressed by either of them, and she dismissed Hiroko from her attention the moment she saw her.

“We're your roommates,” Sharon said, as though she and Hiroko had been friends forever. “I'm Sharon, and this is Hiroko.”

“They told me I'd have a private room,” she said with a marked chill, as though the mistake was Sharon's fault, or Hiroko's.

“Not till next year. I asked too. Freshmen sleep in threes or fours. The upperclassmen get all the doubles and singles.”

“Not if they promised me one too,” she said, and strode out the door as the two girls and the chauffeur watched her. He walked discreetly outside and waited for her, as Sharon shrugged, hoping she
would
get a single. She looked like a real beast to live with. And Hiroko had no idea what to make of her. They were both part of a mysterious new breed to Hiroko.

Anne Spencer came back twenty minutes later, looking anything but pleased, and she gave curt instructions to the chauffeur to open her bag and leave it just outside the closet. She had thought about bringing the maid with her to unpack for her, but she had decided it was better not to. She had wanted her parents to come with her too, but they were in New York, visiting her sister, who had just had her first baby.