When My Name Was Keoko: Chapters 1–14

First I scraped the scraps of food and dregs of soup into an empty serving dish.

“As to our first names,” Abuji says, “Sun-hee, fetch your primer.”

We used them to build cities—houses, schools, shops, a marketplace, a temple, army barracks.

He looked solemn and important, the way he always did when he knew something I didn’t.

We stay as we are, squatting on our haunches, but we bow our heads.

Onishi-san was in the room. He was the man who served as the military attaché for our school.

At home that night Omoni pressed her lips together when she saw the fierce red welts on my legs.

We had calligraphy lessons as part of studying kanji.

They threw a final volley of pebbles at me, then ran away, chanting: “Chin-il-pa! Chin-il-pa!”

I study what I have to, to pass my classes. Then I slip out to our workplace—Uncle’s and mine—under the eaves at the back of the house.

It took me a long time to whittle the wood into the right shape.

She was a skilled gardener, and the vegetable patch flourished no matter what the weather.

I got a trowel from the tool shelf and helped scoop dirt into the pot.

She wore her long hair braided and coiled in a neat bun at the nape of her neck.

“You show great disrespect by not heeding my desires.” Abuji’s voice is stern and sad.

I went to the kitchen shelves and asked Omoni for some popping corn. There wasn’t much left in the little bag. I took nearly all of it and put it in a hollow gourd.

The transmission was static-riddled and somewhat garbled, but we could still make out some words: “...spectacular victory...Pearl Harbor...Hawaii...important military base...enemy completely taken by surprise...heavy damage...”

I felt a little bashful with those other boys around, but I did want to look at the plane. “Can I see it again, Tomo?” I asked.

Tomo looked at him with disdain. “You might be too rough with it. Keoko will be careful.”

All the same, I didn’t like visiting her house; it always seemed empty and forlorn, as if the air inside were never warmed by laughter.

Soldiers walked up and down the street pounding on doors and making sure that everyone was out of their houses. Then they watched sternly as we tried to obey the leader’s instructions. Sometimes they shouted orders or prodded people with their sticks to make them stand in a straighter line.

The soldier’s mouth and eyes narrowed as he looked at her for a moment. Then he made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“We are commandeering this bicycle in the name of His Imperial Majesty. I am sure Sensei appreciates that with the war on, the Imperial forces require every available mode of transportation to further the Emperor’s glorious cause. The Emperor is most grateful to the citizens of his realm for their willingness to make sacrifices on behalf of the military.”

We number off. Then the block leader starts talking. The usual spiel about His Majesty’s Imperial forces.

Omoni comes out into the courtyard. She doesn’t own much jewelry, but she needs both hands to carry it. Some silver bracelets and rings, a gold hair ornament, a necklace and a brooch.