“All for you!” he says with a wave of his hand, making me believe at that moment he’s the magician who has conjured all of it up just for me.

* * *

By early April, Daniel and I are walking to the Okawa Fish Market for our Saturday afternoon game of Hearts. “Daddy had to go away,” I finally tell Daniel.

Nori. Hilo Aunties. Hearts. It’s the chant I’ve carried in my head all through the morning, grounding me. I know Daniel’s excited to see Mano and Wilson, which will soften the news and distract him with play.

“For work?” he asks, looking up at me.

I nod. If I don’t say the words out loud, is it still a lie?

“When is he coming home?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, which isn’t a lie. “Until he does, we’ll be okay, yeah? We have Uncle Koji, the aunties, Wilson, and Mano.”

It takes Daniel a moment to understand what I’m saying. I can see it in the way his gaze drifts away from mine in thought. He doesn’t answer right away as he normally would, and I don’t press. When we turn onto Kamehameha Avenue and start toward the fish market, Daniel reaches over and takes hold of my hand.

You Can’t Hide: November 27–December 4, 1935

You Can’t Hide

November 27–December 4, 1935

18. A New Direction

18

A New Direction

From the train station, Koji walked to the Okawa Fish Market, eager to catch Nori. The day had grown increasingly hot and humid, sweat prickling down the back of his neck as he picked up his pace, hoping she might know what was bothering Daniel. Koji hated to see him troubled. He heard a faraway rumbling and stopped, glancing up toward Mauna Loa. The volcano continued to erupt, smoking and spewing day and night; his only relief was in knowing that it didn’t pose any danger to Hilo town.

The streets down by the docks were teeming with longshoremen. Koji edged his way around the groups of men lingering on the streets, stifling and foul-smelling, a chorus of Portuguese, Chinese, Tagalog, and Japanese languages all melded into one indistinguishable song. Even in hard times, everywhere he looked, notices were tacked up calling for workers’ meetings and rallies that were open to everyone. Everything felt louder and more insistent down at the docks, while meetings at the plantations were still held in tight secrecy, separated by ethnic groups, just as the owners planned. Even before his family arrived at Puli, workers were kept in their isolated villages on the plantation to keep them from unifying, pitting brother against brother if one faction should strike.