Authors: CW Schutter
It happened after a three-day poker game at Mark’s home in Kaimuki. Everyone was tired and the children were itching to go home. The stench of beer and stale cigarettes filled the living room where the adults gambled. George’s bodyguard, Bobo Kim, lifted his enormous bulk from his chair and stretched his flabby arms and coarse hands to the ceiling.
“Well, I’m
pau
.” He yawned and shook his thick, shaven skull to and fro. “What time you like me come by tomorrow, boss?”
George looked up from his cards and shuffled them mechanically. “Maybe after noon. Depends on what time I leave. Give me a call before you come by.”
“Louise, you’re out?” Mark asked.
Louise nodded. She was the only woman on the table.
“Mary left some stuff in the oven. Can you get some
kaukau
for us?”
Louise stood. She was a big lady dressed in black pants, a garishly printed loose blouse, and heavy costume jewelry hanging around her neck and dangling from her ears and wrists. Her straight bangs were cut too short above winged eyebrows and blue-shadowed eyelids lined with lots of black eyeliner.
“I would be the only
wahine
awake. You guys get your own beer. I’m not going do everything myself.”
Bobo laughed. “Hey, Louise, maybe later you and I can go play.”
“Go way.” Louise waved him aside with merry eyes and smiling red lips. “Bobo, I think you no can handle me. Mo’ betta you go sleep it off.”
Bobo roared. “Catch you later, Louise.” He turned to Mark. “Thank Mary for me. And tell the boss no drink too much. He’s not a good driver, you know.” He laughed and waved his hand as he walked out the door to his car parked across the street.
George looked through the picture window and watched Bobo get into the car. George turned back to his cards. Two kings. He chuckled. Since he started his syndicate, his luck never seemed to run out.
He was about to shuffle the cards again when the explosion outside interrupted him.
Mark went to see George two days later. “I came to see you about Bobo.”
“Yeah it was bad luck for Bobo,” George shook his head.
“Bad luck?” Mark’s eyes widened. “Is that what you call it?”
George lit a cigarette and offered one to Mark, who shook his head. George slipped the silver case back into his drawer. “What do you want me to say? These things are an occupational hazard in our business.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “We’re talking about the murder of your bodyguard. Someone we’ve known since we were kids. It happened right in front of my house.”
“Yeah, I’m upset about it.”
“My kids could have been outside! They could’ve been killed!”
George took a drag. “It won’t happen again.”
“How can you be so sure?” Mark asked. “If you had so much control, how come Bobo died?”
“Look, we all make mistakes. We make them once; we make sure it never happens again. You’ll never have to worry about the men who did this again.” George flicked his ashes into an ashtray.
Mark shook his fist. “What are you going to do? Kill people?”
“What is the matter with you, Mark?” George stubbed out his cigarette. “You were always the tough guy, not me. You always knew what was involved in this business.” George leaned over. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be driving a soda truck. You started this.”
“I can’t believe what’s happening to us.” Mark sat down.
George put his chin in his hand. “Mother, Father, everyone thought you were the brawn and I was the wimp. Sometimes what paralyzes a man makes him strong. Anyway, I owe you. You brought me in.”
“You don’t owe me nothing.” Mark looked away.
“You’re my partner, we started this together.”
Mark shook his head. “I want out.”
“You got so much money you don’t need this?” George raised his eyebrows.
“Mary and I talked. I told her the truth and we both decided this is no good for us, or for the kids. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now. Bobo’s killing made me decide. I can’t do it anymore.”
“What happened to the old Mark?”
“Mary wants me to get a real job. I got a house, nothing fancy, but it’s good enough. I got a little money saved. Maybe I’ll open a pool hall. Mary and I don’t need to be rich.”
“You’re crazy,” George spat out. “Our syndicate is on the verge of making big moves.”
“Maybe, but Mary doesn’t want the kids anywhere near this business.”
“Do you know what you’re turning down?” George kept his unblinking eyes steady on Mark. “My junkets to Vegas will begin soon. It’s all strictly legal. I was planning to let you handle the action. Every weekend you collect five hundred dollars per man. They get a free trip to Vegas with their money back in chips. We collect ten percent on all the markers they draw in the casinos. Ten percent!” George pounded his desk with a fist. “You know how much Hawaii people like to gamble. We’ll make a fortune. Plus, we can form a legit travel agency and get a percentage from the airlines. People will line up to go.”
“And who collects the markers, George?”
“So get someone else to do it.”
“As good as it sounds, I can’t do it. I’d still be involved. Plus, those buggas you’re working with in Vegas scare me.”
“You scared?” George waved his hand. “That’s crazy. Anybody would do this.”
“Then I’m not worried.” Mark stood up. “It’ll be easy to find someone else to replace me.”
“I wanted to help you!” George slapped the arm of his chair. “You think I’m going to do this the rest of my life? In less than ten years I’ll have millions. Then I’ll retire. My sons will have enough money to be legitimate businessmen.”
“Let’s just say I’m the gutless one this time.”
“Okay, Mark. Be an idiot. Throw away the millions I’m offering you.”
Mark turned to leave.
“Hey, Mark.”
Mark turned around.
“You’re still my brother, so keep your mouth shut. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
Mark shrugged and walked out the door.
George leaned back in his chair and looked out the window for a long time. He never thought Mark, of all people, would quit on him.
Honolulu: 1947
Less than a year after they married, Katherine gave birth to a son. He was a cute little fuzz-ball with red hair, a loud voice, and determined fists punching the air. Sean smiled at his wife. “He’s a fine boy. We’ll name him Patrick.”
Katherine drew her son closer and bit her lip. “Patrick?”
“It’s a good name.”
“I was thinking of something like Duncan, after my father.”
Sean patted her hand. “Now you won’t begrudge me naming him after the man who brought me here, would you? Let’s compromise. Patrick Duncan Duffy.” He stroked his son’s cheek. “Look, he stopped fussing. I think he likes his name.”
“He is beautiful, isn’t he? Patrick Duncan Duffy.” She kissed him on his forehead. “I suppose it will do.”
Ah, Uncle Patrick
, Sean thought as he gazed at his new son.
It’s not all hard-hearted and forgetting you I am. Perhaps he’ll be the kind of man you wanted me to be.
Duncan Ritchie toasted his new grandson with a glass of sherry and a Havana cigar in the library of Duncan’s home before a lava rock fireplace. Since the time Sean first met him, his hairline had receded to the center of his head where tufts of gray hair sprouted. However, Duncan’s watchful, bright eyes were still the same. In some ways he still made Sean feel like a little boy.
“He’s a fine, healthy grandson.” Duncan chewed on the end of the cigar before puffing it once again. The pungent smell filled the room with a sickly sweet aroma. “Katherine is our youngest. Now my baby’s added to the new generation of Ritchies.”
“His name is Duffy,” Sean corrected him.
“Yes, of course. But here in Hawaii he’ll always be thought of as a Ritchie.”
“The name Duffy will mean something someday.”
Duncan smiled and flicked the ashes from his cigar. “As I told Katherine, you’ve got spirit. I like the way you stand up for yourself. That’s good.”
“I’m glad you see it that way.”
“Do you know on the day Meg got married I handed her a check for $250,000?” Duncan puffed on his cigar and kept his eyes on Sean. “The difference was Meg married one of us. For all I knew, you could have been an opportunist. I hope you understand my caution.”
Sean nodded. Now that he had a child, he knew he would do everything in his power to keep him from fortune hunters.
“And let me say this, although my brother-in-law was disappointed by the outcome of the Maui Pine case, we agreed it wasn’t your fault. You did an impeccable job. It was something that was bound to happen sooner or later.” Duncan put down his cigar. “We understood the risk. With each shipload of immigrants, we brought in more people who would inevitably challenge us. We took care of our immediate needs and sacrificed the future.”
Sean agreed. “You’re right. Change was inevitable. But if the Maui Pine workers didn’t have anonymous financial assistance we would have won. They would never have been able to take it all the way to the Supreme Court. I predict future clashes with the unions now that they’ve become a factor to contend with.”
“The war changed our world. Many of the poor, uneducated GI’s who flooded into Hawaii during the war left bastard children and created a mongrel territory.” Duncan rubbed his cheek. “But the war also made it possible for us to expand our economy faster.”
Sean knew Duncan always gave long, philosophical speeches before making important announcements. He reminded himself to be patient. “It has always been our custom to leave our wealth in trust for future generations. The trusts now have a purpose far beyond their original intent. Whoever controls the land controls Hawaii. Do you know the Sandwich Isles Trust Company?”
Duncan’s cobalt blue eyes burned into Sean.
Sensing more to the question, Sean carefully chose his words. “The president is John Stanley, your third cousin by marriage.”
Duncan nodded. “Well, Johnny's retiring. He got a seat on the Board of Trustees of the Crown Estate, the biggest, richest land trust in Hawaii. After King Kamehameha’s favorite daughter, Lokelani, and her husband, Angus Crown, both died childless, the Princess created the Crown Lands Estate trust. She directed the trust be used solely for the education of children of Hawaiian ancestry. The Supreme Court of Hawaii chooses all the trustees. It’s a lifetime appointment that pays a magnificent salary for going to a meeting only twice a month. It’s the most sought-after retirement plum on the islands.” Duncan frowned. “I don’t know what Johnny did to get it but he promises to continue to ensure the Princess Lokelani School will never give upstart ideas to the natives.”
Sean was silent. Though married with children, John Stanley was a closet homosexual. Sean knew Duncan considered himself a moral Christian and disapproved of John.
“How would you like to be the President of Sandwich Isles Trust Company?”
Sean put down his cigar. “I’m overwhelmed.”
“You’re one of us now. You have a fine legal mind, guts, ingenuity, and loyalty. You have the right stuff.”
“Thank you, sir, for your vote of confidence.”
Duncan slapped his thigh with a grin. “That’s the first time you called me sir. Oh, before I forget, I have a little something for you.” Duncan handed him a sealed envelope. “Congratulations. My grandson is a fine, healthy boy.”
Sean didn’t wait to open the envelope. In it was a check for $250,000.
Age set into Kazuko’s bones. Her spine was so bent she could no longer stand upright. Instead, she stooped over her cane like an old woman. Her once flawless skin was tough and leathery with age spots. Deep lines etched into her face and neck. The hands that once fluttered gracefully were gnarled and misshapen.
When she looked in the mirror, she saw a sixty-five year old woman who looked eighty. All the disappointments and difficulties in her life were on her face. Hers had been a life of extraordinary hardship and pain, so different from the life she assumed she would lead when she was a young girl in Japan.
There was one thing she was proud of. She paid every debt and the farm was free and clear of all liens. Her oldest son, Masami, had an inheritance to pass on to his son. Masami was quiet, obedient, and devoted to his children. But he lacked ambition. Kazuko considered his wife Hanako argumentative and hard to get along with. Kazuko had arranged her son’s marriage through a broker. Ironically, she now found herself unwelcome in the farm she struggled so hard to hold on to. It was too bad her other children couldn’t share in the inheritance. In the past she rebelled against Japanese custom, but as an old lady, she felt bound to its rules.
When her youngest daughter Naomi became a widow with three children, Kazuko saw her chance to escape the unhappy household she lived in. Naomi needed her mother’s help caring for her children while she worked to support her family.
It amused Kazuko that her daughter-in-law tried to persuade her to stay once Hanako realized she would be losing an unpaid housekeeper and babysitter. But her daughter needed her. With relief, she moved to Honolulu.
Compared to Hanako, Naomi was easy going and uncomplaining. Kazuko was tired and so she was grateful. Despair flooded over her in great tidal waves and pulled her down into a sea of passive indifference. She looked forward to death as a release from her joyless existence. She came to Honolulu so she could die in peace.
Then suddenly, to her surprise, she discovered a reason for living.
It happened during a
hana fuda
card game with several of the women who attended the Honpa Hongwanji Temple with her. One of the women talked about her upcoming travel plans to Japan. Her children were prospering and gave their mother a trip to her homeland as a birthday present. It was then the idea of visiting Japan took hold of Kazuko.
When the
hana fuda
club went to see Yoko off, Kazuko was gripped with an intense yearning. She stood in the bowels of the ship watching dozens of
issei
and
nisei
arrange their belongings on their assigned bunks. Rows of double-decked bunk beds with crisp white sheets and standard issue gray flannel blankets swam before her eyes. As crowded as it was, it was luxurious comparing to what the
issei
had endured on their voyage to Hawaii.
“O-Yoko, I wish you a safe journey.” Kazuko pressed an envelope into Yoko’s hand. “How lucky you are to see Japan again!”
Kazuko was filled with exquisite pain. Oh, to see Japan again and embrace her sisters and brothers. How amazing it would be to see her family home with its orderly gardens and tatami rooms. Once more, before she died, she had to see Japan again.
Tears filled her eyes and to her great shame, for the first time in her life, she cried in public.
The nursing home in Manoa was once a grand pink stucco house with white pillars and a wrap-around sun porch. Now the paint was peeling and the yard was full of yellowed weeds. The porch had a row of creaking rockers where seniors sat waiting to die. Flung carelessly throughout the yard were remnants of half-broken, rusty wrought iron furniture. Mary gently pushed Kazuko in a corroded swing topped with a faded, striped green and yellow canvas shade that hung in frayed and torn shreds on the metal frame. A giant golden rainbow shower tree shaded the swing and stood as a reminder of the home’s once glorious past.
Whenever she came to visit, Mary insisted on bringing Kazuko outside. Mary couldn’t stand the dark airless ward which stank of decaying bodies and the putrid odor of urine and spittle. The reversion of the old to infancy was grotesque. Mary felt helpless and guilty her mother was forced to live in a state run home, but she and her siblings were in no financial position to do anything else. Their mother was incontinent and unable to take care of her basic needs. It was a blessing her mother was oblivious to her surroundings.
So they sat in the shade of the shower tree and Mary listened to her mother ramble. Since having a stroke, Kazuko was alternately listless and feverishly lost in her childhood.
Kazuko had no memory of today. But her memories of the past were clear. It was the same with Mark’s mother, a victim of Alzheimer’s. Maybe their childhood memories were happier. Mark’s mother indicated as much in her halting, broken English.
Kazuko rarely emerged from the deep and impenetrable silence she was lost in. When she did, she couldn’t stop talking.
“Father says if I do not wish to learn, then I must know what it is like to be a common peasant. If I don’t do my lessons, I have to work the fields like a peasant. He says being born with samurai blood is not enough. I must honor that blood by learning to act like one who is descended from the samurai. I must never, ever bring disgrace to my ancestors.”
Kazuko paused, as if she were listening to someone talking to her.
Mary watched the clouds drift by and break apart.
Will I be like that someday
?
Please, God, let me die before I become so lost
. Mary took her mother’s hand and stroked her arm. “Mama.”
Kazuko lapsed into silence. In the background, a dog barked. Several cars drove by. Otherwise, it was very quiet.
Mary’s thoughts drifted in the silence when her mother suddenly said, “The Kawae girl married a doctor. They have two children, a big house, and a Cadillac. They sold the store. She’s very lucky.”
Mary stared at her mother. It wasn’t unusual for her mother to go from the past to utter clarity then to confusion followed by silence. Even now, her mother’s eyes were vacant again. She thought about Mitsuo and was both happy and somewhat sad at least his dreams had come true. Her life, on the other hand, was at best a struggle. But she didn’t complain. If Mark stayed on with his brother, she wouldn’t have to work. But she and Mark both agreed the potential price was too high.
All of a sudden, Kazuko began beating her breasts and crying. “No, no! I will not marry the old man! I love Tetsuo!” Mary knelt and put her arms around her. Kazuko grabbed Mary’s shoulders so hard, she winced. “Where is Tetsuo?”
A burly Hawaiian attendant rushed out of the home. “I heard the screams…” She came to where Mary and her mother were and started cooing, “There, there, it’s okay.”
“I don’t know what came over her,” Mary apologized. “She’s overexcited. She needs to rest.”
The attendant picked up Kazuko as if she were a child. “Shh, it’s okay.”
Tears came to Mary’s eyes; her mother was being carried away like a baby.
Kazuko opened her eyes and looked around. She didn’t know where she was exactly but the fragrant smell of sandalwood permeated the air. Sunae beamed as she slipped cool silk garments on Kazuko. Shaking her head, Kazuko asked, “O-Sunae, have I been away?”
Cocking her head, Sunae smiled and pulled the gold and white
obi
tight around her waist, before stepping back to look at Kazuko. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Kazuko looked down. Her hands were the soft, white hands of a snow maiden. “I must have had a bad dream.” She shook her head. “Why are you dressing me in such fine garments?”
“I wanted to do it one last time.” Sunae placed her hands on her hips and grinned. “I couldn’t let anyone else do it today.”
“I don’t understand. What’s so special about today?” Suddenly her hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, no. Is it true I have to marry the
tono sama
?”
“The
tono sama
?” Sunae echoed. “What are you talking about? You must have had a bad dream. That old man is not for you. You are marrying my son, Tetsuo.”
“I’m marrying Tetsuo? Father approved?” Kazuko’s eyes widened.
“Of course he approved.” Sunae fussed with Kazuko’s hair. “He understands everything now.” Sunae put her hands on Kazuko’s cheeks. “You look beautiful.”
Kazuko looked down. She was dressed in a
shiro-muku
, the white silk undergarment. the first layer of a wedding kimono. She looked at Sunae in surprise and saw the elaborately embroidered
uchikake
, the over kimono in red, gold, and white exploding with flowers. She was to don it over her undergarment later. “Oh, the bad dream I had. It was so real. I thought I ran away to Hawaii with Tetsuo.”
Sunae slapped her hands together and chuckled. “Hawaii! Oh, my goodness. What a dream! Wait until I tell everyone. But now, it’s time to go.” Sunae pointed to the closed
shoji
doors. “Behind those doors, your new life begins.” She took Kazuko’s hand. “Are you ready?”
Smiling behind her hand, Kazuko shuffled like a proper Japanese lady toward the shoji doors. The nightmare was over at last. She was in Japan, in her father’s house, and all was as it should have been from the start. Parting her lips, she replied, “I feel like I’ve been ready for a long, long time.”
When the nursing home called to say Kazuko had died in her sleep, Mary felt a mixture of sadness and relief. This past year her mother was lost in her own world. Mary’s one regret was her mother never got to visit Japan before she died.