Frank says, “If you’d hit him you would have really been busted.”

I pull my shirt up and say, “I don’t care.”

While Frank ties the bow in back for me he says, “Girl, you’d be sent back to Nam.”

I say, “If I’m lucky.” There’s another chalk rock in my hand. I clutch it so tight it digs dent marks in my fist. I throw it on the ground and watch it break into little pieces.

I want to cry. But I can’t. I know that if I cry, the kids will cry too and I can’t let that man beat us. Make us look stupid, so that everyone would see us, dripping and wet, a bunch of snotty-nosed kids, sorry and parentless, on the Fourth of July.

We walk for two blocks and then little Sophia says, “Hooray, the plane!”

Marcel and Dean point up at the blue sky. Using their Tattoo from Fantasy Island nasally voice they say, “Look boss, the plane, the plane,” cracking each other up.

We speed up because seeing the plane means that we’re almost at the swimming pool. From a distance, the playground looks like a giant piece of aluminum foil. The silver plane is in the middle of a sawdust box surrounded by slides and swing sets. Everything is so shiny it’s blinding. I think we’ll burn if we walk closer. The little kids don’t care. They run ahead.

I scream after them, “Don’t go down the slide. It’ll burn the back of your legs.” Then I turn to Frank and ask, “What’s a Jap anyway?”

He says, “It means Japanese, duh! Why?”

“That’s what the man called us, remember? Japs. Dirty Japs. We’re not even Japanese.”

Frank says, “I know, but we all look the same to them.”

I don’t say anything. I have to think about what it means.

Frank puts his arm around me. He says, “Don’t worry about it. Humpty Dumpty was just a jerk.” He’s walking beside me so close I can hear his stomach growl. I think he’s being a softie because he’s hungry until his hand reaches behind my neck and tries to pull at my bow. “Don’t you remember? Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these!” Frank lifts his shirt and flashes his nipples and sticks his tongue out. “Just like yours!” he says.

Frank disappears into the belly of the plane. On its side in faded black letters it says U.S.S. Coral Sea. It could have been a real plane, used in a real war, like the war we came from. I bet the plane hides lots of secrets too.

I don’t see the kids but I can hear their muffled voices echoing inside as if they’ve been swallowed. I yell down the cockpit and bang on the doors. I want them out. I want to see my sister’s snaggle tooth, and Marcel’s goggle eyes, and Sophia’s pout, and Sammie’s broom hair, and Dean’s furry mole, and Frank with the chin always jutting out like a dare.