So far, I’ve been all right. My little village is so remote that the Japanese haven’t found it yet. My people aren’t beyond a little banditry—no one in these hills has yet recovered from the Clan Wars. If you haven’t ever had fairness, how can you know what it is? But my cousins here are at least not fifth columnists, and we have banded together with a few other villages to begin a bit of resistance work. If you could see what we are doing, I think you would see that our work is more in the spirit of what Brother Du Bois dreams of than what the cursed children of Hirohito have put into motion. It might not be as beautiful as he dreams, but at the very least, it’s better than all the demon activity happening around us.

I’m not sure how you feel, so I won’t tell you where I am. But if you decide to dream a different dream, or the same dream with different Negro and Asian heroes, and come fight by my side, you could give a note to the messenger who bears this letter. Our network is safe. Won’t you consider it—if not for my sake, then for the sake of your own immortal soul?

I love you, cousin. I breaks my heart to think of you on the other side of the harbour, facing so much danger to your life and spirit all alone. If it weren’t for Jane and the kids, I wouldn’t have left you, you know that. Even though you’re so stubborn. Please change your mind and come. I’ve started a little vegetable garden in anticipation of shortages. I’m growing some of those white radishes you like, and a few different kinds of greens too. Remember how my mama used to do that back home? She used to grow lo bak right alongside the collards. No one got green thumbs like her. If I’ve inherited a fraction of her knowledge, we might eat okay up here. Please tell me you’ll come.

I trust you care for me enough to keep this letter to yourself, regardless of what you decide.

Love and niceness from your cousin,

Izzy

CHAPTER 30LOOTED

December 26, 1941