“My daughter has many talents,” said my father. “I think we can spare her for a few hours, if seeing the end of this boat race is so important.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved and slightly surprised to have my father as the ally in my corner.
“Not at all.” My father’s eyes remained on me, as if he could see straight through to what really was important, even though he’d never heard Michael’s name before.
12
I WAS AS good as my word, and got up before six the next morning. I even skipped my run in order to cook. Spinach was washed three times, shaken and tied up in kitchen towels to dry. I put together a trifle from ladyfingers, rum, the whipped soymilk and the remaining fruit we had-ripe mango and banana. When the rest of the family came in, I gave them a breakfast of pineapple, low-sodium miso soup, rice, and a bit of pickled daikon radish and then persuaded everyone to make a part of dinner. For my father, it was mincing scallions to use as a garnish and in multiple dishes; for Tom, it was chopping long green beans for me to stir-fry later with a ginger sesame glaze. Uncle Hiroshi seemed too shell-shocked to do anything but set the table, for which I complimented him lavishly.
Everyone was having fun by the end, and my father had to remind me it was time for my appointment with Uncle Yosh. I arrived at his door five minutes from the time I left Kainani.
Braden answered the door, looking sullen in just a pair of yellow and orange shorts. He rubbed his eyes; it was nine o’clock, apparently quite early. “Jii-chan!” he hollered, and stalked off.
Uncle Yosh emerged, dressed in a faded but clean T-shirt and wrinkled pants. He looked surprised to see the van, and kicked its tire. “This thing safe to travel?”
“So far, so good.”
“Where we going?”
“You mentioned a fishmonger on North King Street in Honolulu. I hope that’s not too far…”
“No, no, it be worth it. But tell me the truth-your fadduh gonna let you drive this wreck all the way to Honolulu?”
“Yes, of course. I drove it downtown yesterday.” As we started off, I got right down to business, asking Uncle Yosh if he thought it was a good idea for us to pursue the land claim one more time. He shrugged, saying nothing.
“It’s really your house, not Edwin’s. I mean, it’s your house if there ever really was a letter or deed-”
“It was ours in writing, for sure. I remember Josiah Pierce coming to our house one evening when I was a kid, Kaa-san sending me out. That musta been when the papers were done.”
The papers, or something else? I eyed my great-uncle, and struggled for the right words. “Did you see Josiah Pierce at your home again after that?”
“No, never.”
“And your father? How did he fit into all this? Where was he during this talk?”
“He got transferred to work at a plantation in Maui, around the time I was two. Never saw him after that, ’cause he died in an accident there.”
“Why didn’t you and your mother go with him?”
“The school. She was teaching here, and got paid for that. She wouldn’t have such an easy job if she went to Maui.”
“I’m sorry that you grew up without a father. That must have been very hard.” As I murmured the apology, my thoughts were spinning. It seemed more and more likely that Harue had had a secret relationship with Josiah Pierce.
“Truth is, you don’t miss what you don’t know. Lot of men around the plantation seemed too angry. The men in those times drank a lot, and the wives hated it. That’s why no drinking in my house, ever.”
“I apologize for bringing wine the other evening; I just didn’t know.” I tried to refocus the conversation. “If you were to revisit the day that you found the Liangs in your house, could you tell everything that happened?”
Yoshitsune was silent for a minute, and when his voice returned, it came in fits and starts. “I never forget that day, March seventeen, 1942. The day I touched Hawaiian ground again, when I decided go for broke, I thought might as well return home right away, even though my mother had passed. I got the bus from Honolulu out to Waipahu, and a Filipino guy I knew since small kid time rode me out on his pickup the last few miles to the house.”
“Was the house located in the plantation village?” I asked.
“No, it was makai, kind of remote but real peaceful. Because it wasn’t in village, that’s why nobody noticed that the Liangs had taken the house.”
“What did Mr. Liang say to you, when you tried to come home?”
“He wasn’t there, when I went calling. Never saw the buggah. He probably down in Chinatown, running his store. The wife was the one who came to the door.”
“Clara Liang?”
“That’s right.” He looked surprised that I knew her name, but I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t want to interrupt the flow. “Clara Liang said to me, “What you want?” I stared at her and said, “Lady, you in my house.” Then she laughs like crazy and say the house belong to her and her husband. They buy from Mr. Pierce one year previously. While she talking, I kept looking over her shoulder to see inside. See a lot of strange furniture, but a few of our things, like the old tansu chest and some lamp that was my mother’s. I said, “My name Yoshitsune Shimura, and I see you took my household goods, too.””
I was so caught up in the story that I’d inadvertently slowed to just less than fifty miles per hour, I realized after a lumbering truck passed us up. Not good highway behavior, so I sped up. “What did she say when you confronted her like that?”
Yosh shook his head, remaining silent.
“I’m sorry if I’m being too nosy.” I shot a glance at him, and saw that the craggy-faced man looked close to tears. “I don’t mean to force bad memories. I was just trying, you know, to see if there was any information from that encounter that could help me understand what happened with the land.”
“Got nothing to do with land,” he said roughly. “You want know what she said? I remember every word. She said, “You go away, dirty Jap, I know what you did at the post office. I will remind everyone, now that you’re back.” I didn’t know what to reply, so I just started walking.”
“But you…you were a war hero,” I said. “You worked with the OSS! How could she dare label you a traitor?”
“Not many know what I did. The family know, sure, but it’s not something to show off about. And like I say, it counts nothing for getting the land back,” Yosh said. “After I left the house, I thought about things. I had a buddy whose cousin was at Honolulu PD. I talked story with him, about my house. He said, only way you can prove your story is by showing the deed. Well, I don’t know if there ever was a deed; if there had been any deed in the house, like the letter, you better believe the Liangs destroyed it. And there was nothing to prove ownership at the Bureau of Conveyances, as you learn yourself.”
“Who told you that we went to the land records office?”
“I heard it on the coconut wireless.” Yoshitsune smiled, and added, ‘My old friend’s brother, he work there. He told me there was a girl in, claiming to be family.”
So much for the helpful clerk and his questions about my name. “Uncle Yosh, we found a record of Josiah Pierce selling another property to Clara Liang for a really low price, on Smith Street in Chinatown.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s their old company building. I don’t know.”
“Well, do you think there might be something odd about him selling to her rather than the husband?”
Yoshitsune shrugged again. “Why you think that?”
“I…well…he sold mostly to Asian women. I was wondering if any funny business might have been going on.”
Instead of answering me, Yosh said, “Watch it, we’re at King Street now. Left turn, and better start look
