Caged Eagles (21 page)

Walking along, I couldn't help being reminded of Prince Rupert. Not Prince Rupert before the war, but how it was when I left. There were cars parked at the sides of the street, people strolling along the sidewalk, walking, talking, pushing strollers or pulling grocery carts full of their purchases. It all seemed so friendly and safe and familiar. It was hard to believe that I wasn't allowed to be here … or anywhere except the park.

“Here we are,” Sam said.

We'd stopped in front of a large building. It had stone columns, and a series of cement steps led up to the door. Above the door, engraved in the rock, it said “Royal Canadian Post Office.”

“Do you see the letter drop? It's right there by the front door,” Sam said.

Slowly I climbed the steps. I had the eerie feeling that I was being watched, and that all the eyes on the busy street were on me. I stopped and turned around. People strolled along the sidewalk or stood talking. Cars and trucks whizzed along or waited for the light to change at the end of the block. Nobody was looking at me. I reached the letter drop, hesitated for a split second and then released it, allowing the letter to fall the first few feet of its trip to my friend.

I turned and hurried down the steps. I couldn't help but wonder what Jed would think when he read my letter.

And what would he write in his letter back?

Sam was sitting on a bench, and I stopped beside him. “Let's go.”

“Do you know that the bus that passes by here goes right to Stanley Park?”

“No, I didn't know.”

“Have you ever been to Stanley Park?” Sam asked.

“You know I haven't,” I said. I also knew what he was getting at. “And today isn't going to be the first time.”

Sam smiled and stood up. “I guess you're right. But it does feel good to be out, doesn't it?”

“It does … but we have to get back to the park.”

“You're right. It just reminded me of things — you know, what it used to be like,” Sam said. “Let's go.”

We started back, retracing our footsteps along the street. It was lined with stores, and I looked in the windows as we passed. I had to admit that it all did look friendly and interesting and harmless. Going to Stanley Park wasn't a good idea, but maybe we could stop around here for a minute.

“You thirsty?” I asked Sam.

“Thirsty and hungry.”

“Maybe we could stop in at one of these stores and get a drink. My treat.”

“That sounds like a good — hey, watch it!” Sam yelled as a boy walked between us, bumping into both of us.

“Who are you to tell me what to do!” the boy demanded. He was about our age and size — and white.

“Is somebody bothering my little brother?” came a voice from behind us.

I turned around. There were three more boys, a few years older than us, standing there. They were all smirking, and I could just tell by their postures and expressions that they were looking for trouble.

“Nobody picks on my little brother,” the biggest of the three said as he came toward us threateningly. “Especially not people that don't belong here!”

How did he know we were Japanese? Had they already called the police? They moved in closer and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Now get back to where you belong! Get back down to Chinatown!”

Chinatown! He thought we were Chinese! I felt like laughing out loud!

“Sure we'll go back … we don't want any problems,”

I said. “We'll go right now.”

I tried to take a step away, but one of them blocked my way.

“Where do you think you're going?” he demanded.

“Um … back … back to Chinatown.”

“Chinatown is that way!” he said, pointing in the opposition direction from the way I was headed, which was back to Hastings Park. “Do you think we're idiots?” he demanded.

“No … I just … I mean … that was the way we came,” I stammered.

“Well, that ain't the way you're going!”

He grabbed me roughly by the arm and pushed me back in the direction I'd just come with such force that I almost toppled over. The other three started to laugh.

“Gum?” Sam asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Does anybody want a piece of gum?”

“We don't want any of your chink gum!” another of them snapped.

Sam shrugged. “It's not chink gum. It's good gum.” He pulled a package out of his pocket. “Because I know I can use another piece. This stuff in my mouth is getting stale. I better get rid of it,” Sam said.

He then spat out the wad, hitting the biggest guy right in the middle of his forehead!

.16.

“Aaagggh!” he screamed as he brought his hands up to his face and the wad of gum dropped to the ground.

Before anybody could even react, Sam punched him in the stomach and he groaned loudly, exhaling a burst of air. As he doubled over in pain, Sam brought his knee up and connected with the guy's face. He collapsed into a crumbled heap on the ground, blood spilling from his nose and mouth.

“Who's next?” Sam screamed as he bounced forward, his fists held high in front of him.

All three of them backed away. They looked shocked — and scared.

“What's wrong, don't you want to make the chinks go away?” he yelled. Sam jumped toward one of them, making him stumble back out of the way.

“Come on,” Sam said as he grabbed me by the arm. “We're leaving.”

They moved out of our way as Sam dragged me past. I expected one of them to lunge out or do something, but instead they made more space for us.

As Sam released his grip on me, I realized that we'd drawn a crowd. I'd been so focused on our four attackers that I hadn't looked beyond them. There must have been at least two dozen people who had stopped and were staring. Now all the eyes on the street
were
on us.

“Don't look back, just keep walking,” Sam said.

“But —”

“And shut up,” he said, cutting me off. “Save your breath, you're going to need it.”

What did he mean by that? We quickly passed by stores, cutting through people on the sidewalk. I felt like there were eyes burning into our backs.

Rather than going straight at the lights, we turned to the left. I was relieved when we made the turn because we were now out of view.

“Why are we going this way?”

“To get out of sight faster. Come on!” Sam said, and began running.

I started to sprint. Sam, as always, was moving faster than I could. He disappeared down the first side street — the street we'd traveled partway before heading to the main road. At least I understood what he was doing. I dug down deeper and made the street a dozen seconds after him. I was relieved to see that he'd started to walk. I stopped when I reached his side.

“I wanted to make sure they wouldn't follow us,”

Sam explained. “We couldn't very well go back under the fence with them watching.”

“I guess not. Do you think that guy's okay?” I asked.

“Don't know, don't care. I didn't start anything … just finished it. So what do you think? Was I right when I said I can handle myself?”

“No question about that; you cleaned his clock.”

“Yeah, I did. Would have taken the others if they'd been stupid enough to try me. How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“Are you any good with your fists?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Have you had to very often?” Sam asked.

“A few times,” I answered. Of course, that included play fights and arguing with my sisters. I hadn't actually ever been in a fist fight. Words usually worked.

“I wasn't sure about you. You looked like you were just going to walk away after he shoved you.”

I felt myself flush. He was wrong, though. I wasn't just going to walk away — I was prepared to run.

“I thought it was better to get away — you know, not cause a scene,” I said.

“It wasn't us who caused the scene,” Sam said. “It was them when they stopped us and then shoved you.”

“But it wouldn't be them that got in trouble if the police came. It would have been smarter to just try —”

“I'm tired of smart!” Sam snapped, interrupting me.

“And I'm tired of people pushing me around. Aren't you tired of it?” he demanded.

“Of course, it's just that what —”

“That's the thing I just can't get over at that camp,”

Sam said, interrupting me again. “It's almost like nobody cares. They make us leave our homes, put a fence around us, make us live in stalls, and nobody does anything.

Everybody just bows their heads, smiles and goes along with it. Like last night in the men's barracks. Why did everybody, hundreds and hundreds of men, just stand there and watch while a few policemen took somebody away?”

“What do you think they should have done?” I asked.

“I don't know … maybe stop them … maybe something, anything, instead of just standing there like cattle.

Maybe that's it. It's okay for them to make us live like cattle because that's how we're acting, like dumb, stupid cows being herded around.”

“People
have
done some things.”

“Like what?” Sam demanded.

“Well … I heard they sent somebody to talk to the government, and people met with the commander of the camp to complain about things.”

“That's right. Talk. That's all they do is talk. Talk, talk, talk!”

“What do you think we're supposed to do instead of talking?” I asked.

“I don't know. Refuse to do things, disobey the orders, argue or fight with them! Maybe punch somebody right in the nose!”

“Like that would help.”

“It helped today. If I hadn't stepped in they would have pounded us.”

“You don't know that. They might have just let us walk away.”

“Crawl away, you mean. They might have just let us crawl away. I'm telling you, I'd rather have to be carried out fighting and screaming and kicking than crawl off like some dog with my tail between my legs! You know, the only people in that whole camp who are doing anything more than just talking are those old people.”

“What old people?” I questioned.

“The ones this morning who aren't eating. It seems like a pretty stupid way to fight back, but at least they're doing something — more than the rest of us are doing!”

Before I could answer, I heard a car engine roaring up the street behind us. We both turned in time to see two cars racing toward us. One squealed to a stop, its front wheels bouncing up onto the sidewalk a few houses past us. The second skidded to a stop behind us. Suddenly all four doors of the first car flew open. Five men scrambled out. A shudder shook my whole body as I recognized one boy, now holding a blood-stained towel to his face. It was the guy Sam had knocked down, and he'd come with more friends. There was no question what they wanted.

I heard the sound of car doors slamming and turned around to the car that was behind us. Another four men got out of it and started toward us. We were trapped!

“This way!” Sam screamed as he grabbed me by the arm.

His scream unfroze me, and I ran along beside him up the driveway of the house. We shot past the building and into the backyard. Behind me I could hear yelling and swearing and footsteps charging up the drive after us.

Driven by fear, I was able to stay with Sam, and we both hit the fence at the end of the yard at the same time and were over in a single bound. We'd traveled no more than two dozen steps when I heard the metal fence groaning under the weight of our pursuers. We scrambled across the grass, hitting the gravel drive of the next house at a dead run. Running past the second house, I caught a glimpse of a surprised woman staring at us out of the side window. Once we hit the street, Sam grabbed me by the arm again and aimed me along the sidewalk. I chanced a glance behind me — they weren't there. Then the first guy broke free from behind the house, followed by another and another! They were still coming, and I felt a surge of fear push me to run faster.

Side by side, we ran along the sidewalk, cars whizzing by. Up ahead I could see the park, the fence surrounding it and the baseball diamond in the distance behind it. If only we could get to the fence, we'd be safe — or, at least, get to the part of the fence where the hole was. That was still a long way off.

“We're losing 'em!” Sam said.

I looked back. He was right! They were way back and looked like they were slowing down. There was no way I was going to slow down until I was under the fence and halfway across the park.

“Cross over,” Sam yelled as he darted onto the street.

Blindly I followed behind him through a gap in the traffic. We skipped forward around a truck and kept on moving. Again I looked back. There were five of them.

They were strung out over a long distance, some crossing the street, others still on the far side and one already on the same side as us. It didn't matter how many there were, though — they weren't going to catch us. Hopefully we could pull away even farther, so they wouldn't notice us going under the fence. If they
did
see us, would they be crazy enough to come in after us?

“Geez!” Sam screamed as a car raced by and bumped up onto the sidewalk, squealing to a stop and blocking our way. We skidded to a stop as the doors of the car opened and three guys jumped out. I already felt like somebody had punched me in the stomach. I swiveled my head to see our pursuers had closed in and the first was almost on top of us. He slowed down and the next two caught up to him.

I struggled to catch my breath. My pulse was racing.

Desperately I looked around for a way out. We couldn't get over the fence. The strands of barbed wire on top of it would rip us to shreds. There was no way over it. Behind it, in the distance, the baseball game was going on … why couldn't I have been there? The only way was the street … we had to dodge the cars. I took a step toward the street, but Sam put a hand on my shoulder.