His teacher’s voice is soft and calm, yet measured and forceful, and the room of rowdy men, like a schoolroom of children, immediately stops talking and fidgeting. It becomes so still I can hear the rat scurrying around in the kitchen. The cabin pulsates with a thick, raw energy. Looking among the faces, I don’t see Koji, but it’s still early. Everyone is in great spirits and it’s a good turnout, and then there’s the unanimous vote to strike right before the next harvest. We have five months to plan, to unite the workers from the Japanese, Chinese, and Filipino villages at Puli to strike together and eliminate the owners from using us against each other. For the first time, it doesn’t feel like the mountain we’re climbing is that steep.

* * *

It’s 9:00 in the evening by the time the meeting is adjourned, and the men rush back to the plantation. I tell Hideki to leave first, that I’ll make sure nothing is left behind and then walk back to the plantation. No worries, yeah. I know how to slip back in undetected through the northern fields. Right now I need some fresh air after being cooped up in the hot, sweaty room for the past few hours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Hideki says.

He stuffs his papers back into a folder and looks around the rough cabin. We’ve come so far together trying to unionize the workers. I never thought I’d get along with a book-smart guy like him, but we work well together. My teenage years with Koji and Franklin are far away now, but it’s the same kind of brotherhood. Even if I want to be angry at Koji for not showing up tonight, I’m feeling too good about how well the meeting went.

“Was a good meeting, yeah,” I say.

“We couldn’t have done it without you, brother,” Hideki says. “You’ve done a good job getting the men to the meetings. I can’t thank you enough.”

I nod, a flush of embarrassment rising. It takes me a moment to grasp what he’s said. I can’t remember the last time someone as smart as Hideki thanked me for doing something right. If ever. He lifts the latch on the door and is gone before I can give a real response.

* * *