Page 28 of The Gods Will Sing Our Song

“Great,” I say again, only this time it’s a mutter.

I carefully carry the crate over to the wall as Kai enters the warehouse. The guys greet him, and I do, too. The chicks make me think about Emi and the baby. Dr. Suzuki says it’s a good sign that she hasn’t had a fever for the past twenty-four hours. But I still can’t relax. I need to figure out a way to get Emi to the hospital when she gives birth.

I set down the chicks I’m carrying and stop at the window, glancing out. From it, you can see the WRA offices and Main Street.

I freeze.

It’s Violet. She’s walking along the firebreak, a pencil tucked behind her ear and a bag so large in her hands it can only be laundry. My stomach drops like I’m on a roller coaster. I feel sweaty and gross, and she looks as pretty as a newly sprung flower.

Then someone else appears. That officer who bothered Violet before. What does he want with her? James and Kai, noticing me linger, come and peer past my shoulders.

“That mucky-muck is Boser,” James says. “Everyone says he wanted a prestigious government job because his daddy is high up the chain, but he got stuck here. Must be a grade A screwup.”

I believe it. The guy is a loser. I watch as Boser speaks to Violet, who drops the bag of laundry. He picks it up, says something. She holds out her hands for the bag. He motions for her to follow him toward the back of the warehouse. My heart races, some crazy mix of rage and hate. She follows him.

James lets out a disgusted growl.

“Traitor girls are the worst of all,” he declares. “They spread their legs for the officers to get steak dinners in Bishop, whispering our plans into their ears—” Whatever he’s going to say is cut off when I give him a straight-armed shove with my left hand. He should be happy it isn’t a right hook with what he’s accusing Violet of, and it would’ve been if I didn’t have to get to her as fast as possible. I push past him and stride across the warehouse. The sweetly innocent chirping of the chicks follows me, a strange contrast to the fury building deep inside me.

I burst out the back door and head straight for Boser and Violet.

Chapter Eight

Violet

Dear Otōsan,

I don’t know when any of our letters will get mailed because we are still waiting for the post office, but I’ve resolved to keep writing you. That way, you’ll know everything that’s happened. We are doing well! Mama got a job sewing and I’ve started classes. College has been postponed indefinitely, but I’m still determined to graduate on time.

I’m learning it’s best to keep busy. It’s something I never fully understood. Back home, we were just busy. You know how it was. We were simply…living. And it was beautiful. I had school, hung out with friends, helped you fulfill orders, went to church with Mama, spent too much time drawing instead of doing homework. But here it’s different. Life has just stopped, in such an unexpected, horrible way. So we must keep busy until it starts again for real. Otherwise, we’re just waiting, waiting, waiting.

Though funnily enough, amid all this waiting, something happened. Something I never expected. You’ve always told me about the gods. You say their magic is like the air. We need it for life but hardly notice it, unless it acts up and carries our hats down the street. Well, I think I encountered it. There’s a man. He can do things—command water and glow like the moon. I wish you could see him. I remember you saying that if you ever met a god, you would ask it for flowers to give to Mama and me. It makes me think…so many stories from mythology involve gods granting mortals gifts. I already know what I’d ask for. You, safe with us.

By the way, I met a friend. Or someone who I think might make a good friend. I’m hopeful. I could use a friend.

Love you always,

Violet

As I watch Mr. Boser charge off with my laundry, I don’t know what to do.

My plan seemed promising this morning. After seeing the man at the creek, I knew I had to find him again and decided I should enlist Ren’s help. I told myself teaming up with him was the best option for success—but, if I’m being honest with myself, I also want more time with Ren. As much as possible.

I planned to go to his barrack after class and I did our laundry, but when I was at the washroom, someone mentioned the Hamadas and said Ren had gotten a job at the warehouses. Eager to see him again, I headed off to find him, laundry in hand.

And ran straight into Boser.

“You’re doing your laundry?” he asked as I dropped the bag, startled. He swooped in like a seagull waiting for a sandwich on the beach and slung it over his shoulder. “We have automatic washers and tumble dryers in our bungalows. Come with me.”

“No thank you,” I said, but now he’s already striding away. I glance around, terrified someone will see him holding our laundry. Bad things are said about people who associate with guards—even worse things are said about girls who date them. But I can’t let him go with our laundry. Aside from the clothes Mama and I are wearing today, all the rest are in that satchel. “Mr. Boser, stop, give me my laundry.”

He continues around the corner of a warehouse. I hurry behind him, mind awash in fear and frustration. The brisk, bustling camp disappears as thick shadows claim us, the warehouse creating a tall wall. We’re behind it, far from everyone, and my throat tightens in panic. I’m alone with him.

I’ve already seen that there isn’t much recourse for women and girls who are harassed. And since everyone is suspicious of the authorities, incidents are mostly unreported. Mama never lets me go to the latrines or showers alone, especially after a man was caught peeking through the slats. Rumors fly everywhere about molestation, even rape. No one would take me seriously if I accused an official.

Mr. Boser turns unexpectedly, dropping the laundry satchel in one swoop while looping an arm around my waist. Terror fills me. There’s a playful smile on his face.

“Ever kissed a guy like me before?” he asks abruptly. The sketching pencil I’ve tucked behind my ear falls to the ground. “I’ve never kissed a girl of your kind before, but I’ve always wanted to.”