My Brother, My Sister, and I by Yoko Kawashima Watkins

Author:Yoko Kawashima Watkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing
Published: 1994-12-25T05:00:00+00:00

SOLVED

Hideyo wrote a note to the principal, asking permission for my early dismissal so that I could attend the funeral services for Mr. and Mrs. Masuda. Because I was not properly dressed for a funeral, I was going to sit at the rear corner of the main altar. I took Ko’s shoes off at the entrance, but I froze when I heard people talking.

“We were very sorry that your aunt and uncle died in the fire,” said one woman.

“They were murdered,” said Junko Masuda. How could I forget the voice of the woman who shouted and threw me out into the street when a train was coming?

“How do you know they were murdered?” asked another voice.

“The police have released the suspects’ names,” Junko replied.

“The paper only said you have filed charges against the young Kawashima girls. That does not prove anything,” said a woman with a loud voice.

“As young as they are, and walking around with men at night proves they could do anything!” said Junko. “Even killing and stealing!” Now, I knew for sure; Junko was the one who had telephoned the principal.

After that, I could not stay for the funeral service. I went out to sell Ko’s handicrafts and quickly sold three bibs. I was motivated. Soon I found myself on the same road where I had met the old man with the daikon greens. I searched for him in the field. He was there, adding compost to the soil. I called loudly to get his attention. He stretched his back and put his shaky hand behind his ear to hear better. “Do you remember me?” I asked, approaching him.

“I do,” said the old man bluntly.

I told him I had wanted to leave him a note of thanks for his kindness when Brother and I picked up the greens, but I had not had paper or pencil. “I am sorry.” I presented him with an apron to give to his wife.

“No need! I cannot read,” he said. “Did you come here to work, or what? Don’t waste my time.”

“Do you have work for me?” I asked, surprised. Yes, he said, but he would have to pay me with old rice, dry soybeans, and vegetables, for he had no cash. My whole inside jumped with joy. I could cook some rice for my family tonight and save the rest for the New Year’s celebration. I would use some of the beans to make beanbag toys.

I had to spread compost on the field. The old man said, “Do just a couple of rows this afternoon, and come back tomorrow and the next day to finish.” For the first time I introduced myself. I asked his name. He was Mr. Maki. He told me to walk with him to his home so that he could pay me. While walking I told him all that had happened since the day we met.

“You have no parents?” he yelled, and stared at me.

I said, “We have Father, but we do not know where he is.

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