He looked out at the administration building of the assembly center. Then his gaze wandered to the dormitories, where the transferees were housed with nothing to do but wait on the Army's decision to bus them to Tulenar. He couldn't see well past the administration building. The golden lights of the dormitory windows seemed fuzzy and distant.
He lifted his face to the black sky, the stars too small for his wounded eyes to discern. But the moon was easy to see, half-born and moving to maturity.
Chapter 4
Tulenar Internment Camp
Midmorning. Full Moon.
The new arrivals -over two hundred of them- squinted at Doris, perched on the little grandstand, the morning sun relentlessly in their eyes. Paper tags tied to the fronts of jackets, shirts and blouses twisted in the gusty breeze. Evacuees were told the tags ensured that family members wouldn't be inadvertently separated. True. But this was a secondary value. Doris had no doubt her charges understood the real advantage of having the internees neatly reduced to numerical code.
Elsewhere in the melee of people, stood long tables overburdened with suitcases and duffel bags. The camp's Interior Security Police -Nisei, mainly, but overseen by WRA supervisors- checked batches of luggage for any contraband that may have slipped past Lakeside Assembly Center. Nearby, an official pulled a Kodak from a steamer trunk and handed it to the supervisor, who said to the guilty woman, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. Photographic equipment is not allowed." Doris raised her megaphone and her voice over the woman's protests to begin her speech.
"Good morning. I'm Mrs. Doris Tebbe, Center Administrator for Tulenar. The War Relocation Authority hopes to make your stay here as comfortable as possible and wishes to reassure you that the government is doing everything it can to make this stay as brief as possible. To the east are the registration tables. Besides registering, if you have any loose ends regarding your homes or property storage, any questions about the security of your monetary assets, the registrars will direct you to the Federal Reserve Bank's station. You will also receive information about your coupon allotments. After you've registered, you will be escorted to your assigned dormitory blocks.
"Conditions here are not as monotonous as at the assembly center. Most of the blocks have well-supplied recreation halls, many have playgrounds with swings, monkey bars and volleyball nets. Several have libraries and toy loan centers. And there are plans for a Shibai Theatre to be erected within the next few months. There are also many positions to be filled, such as medical and academic, farming and food production, our local printing press. Once you are settled into your quarters, staff interviewers will visit to discuss all the options. May I stress, however, that no one is required to work, and that the War Relocation Authority will indeed carry out its obligation to see to your needs. But for those who wish to help improve the quality of life here at Tulenar, there are many paying options. Salaries begin at $14.00 a month. Now please step over to registration."
Twice more she had to deliver her speech. Twice more she heard the startled complaints crackle through the masses: More registration! How many times must we line up and be counted? At last Doris could step off the stand, the long day still ahead of her. She made her way over to the high school.
Classes were not yet in progress, but the long, flat structure was taking in and returning a steady stream of people, both evacuee and staff, readying the place for the coming school year. It would have been an almost homey sight, actually, except for one thing...whitewash graffiti scrawled across the tarpaper: JAP PRISON. SET US FREE.
It wasn't the first case of vandalism since the camp opened. Probably wouldn't be the last. And her heart wasn't really in the dead-end task of trying to find the culprits but she was, after all, Center Administrator. A few of the Issei had requested something be done, and the present WRA head of the internee's police force, a fellow by the name of Eaves, was less than enthusiastic about his duties.
She watched the comings and goings a while. She was no closer to figuring out how to start investigating than when the complaint was first brought to her. Then she saw a clergyman emerge from the school, his sleeves rolled above his elbows, his Anglican collar stiff and white above the black shirt.
"Reverend..." She headed toward him and remembered to bow, courteously but with brevity, then thrust out her hand. "Doris Tebbe, C.A."
He smiled a polite, distant smile and accepted the handshake. Without returning the bow. "Is it Mrs. or Miss Tebbe? I'm Arthur Satsugai. Something I can help you with?"
The inflection in his voice startled her. It was completely American. In spite of his collar, she had assumed the minister was an Issei, a Japanese-national, because he was clearly in his forties. Middle forties, Doris estimated.
"Well...uh, it's Mrs. And I don't know really. I was asked to do a little investigating by some of the Issei residents of Block Four." She motioned to the defiled school wall. "The graffiti..."
"I see." His smile remained aloof. "I assure you, Mrs. Tebbe, I didn't do it."
Doris laughed too nervously, still frustrated by her mistake. "And I'd so hoped for a confession. Are you from one of the blocks near the school, Reverend? Is it Reverend or Father or...?"
"In the Episcopal tradition, Mister and Father are both correct. I have no preference. Your choice. And yes, to your first question. Block Four. You're wondering if I've seen anything?"
"Or heard something. Perhaps a teenaged boy boasting to his friends. I'm aware of a group of Nisei youngsters who like to call themselves the Inu Hunters. Inu is Japanese for dog, isn't that correct...that is...do you know?"
"Yes, I do and, yes, it is."
"Mrs. Haku, my secretary, has had an encounter with one or two of their membership. They jeered her, called her an informant stooge. It seems to me someone from the group would be the likely suspect."
"I see."
"You've not heard anything that might be helpful?"
"Is it the graffiti you're concerned about, Mrs. Tebbe, or the cat calling?"
Doris's chagrin evaporated. "Mr. Satsugai. I don't want to clap leg irons on a group of young boys who have every right to their anger. But appropriate discipline is in order. Whoever these young men are, they're upsetting the older residents because their frustration is manifest here." Doris pointed to the white wash. "Do you know something or don't you?"
"'Appropriate discipline.' In a prison camp surrounded by military police. Believe me, Mrs. Tebbe, I'm being completely honest when I say that I don't know who painted those words on the school. But if I did -under the circumstances- I wouldn't tell you."
Doris crossed her arms, but Mr. Satsugai continued:
"Much as I'd like to trust my government, I wouldn't turn our children over to your police because of cat calls and white wash."
Her first thought was to object. She wasn't a bully! She wasn't going to toss them into a military brig! She looked into his calm, steady eyes, at level with her own, and something occurred to her. This had to be the minister she had been hearing about through the social workers. Only three months in the camp, but his reputation for leadership was growing with Issei and Nisei alike. An idea lit up inside her.
"All right, Mr. Satsugai. What about policing them yourself?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Do you think you can do a better job organizing the internee police force than I can?"
She watched Mr. Satsugai's face reflect confusion, then skepticism. "Are you serious?"
"Very much so."
When he smiled this time, it seemed to Doris the distance was lessened.
/ / / /
Her palms were clammy and her stomach queasy. Too much coffee and no lunch. But it had been a productive afternoon with Mr. Satsugai, in spite of the contentious sparring:
"How much authority do the internee police have, Mrs. Tebbe?"
"You have it all. There's a reason M.P.'s aren't seen within Tulenar's confines. Their duties are limited to unauthorized ingress or egress. By law, they can't interfere with internee matters, barring major emergencies."
"Major emergencies. Like peaceable dissent, for instance...?"
"Legal, peaceable dissent is your birth right, Mr. Satsugai."
"Yes, of course. The government wouldn't dream of infringing on our birth rights."
His inclination to treat her like an adversary rankled. Doris's insistence that she didn't like the circumstances any more than he only seemed to grate on him more. Still... she had to admit she felt a certain zing when the arguments flared. The particular importance she placed on his good will caught Doris by surprise.
In the end, they managed to wrestle out a basic plan for the internee police. There was no getting around the fact that the police had to be overseen by a WRA supervisor, but there was no policy forbidding the Center Administrator from being the supervisor. All Doris had to do was delegate a couple of other responsibilities to one of her staff, and she knew exactly who. Eaves, the present police supervisor.
Mr. Satsugai would be her liaison and, effectively, police chief. Neither of them foresaw a problem with that. This wasn't exactly the Wild West and, from the looks of things, the mischief of the Inu Hunters was about as exciting as policing would get.
Now they grew quiet. Mr. Satsugai sat across from Doris at the desk and seemed to toy with the idea of pouring another coffee for himself, but withdrew his fingers from the pot's handle. They were slender fingers. He wore no rings. Did Episcopal ministers marry, Doris wondered?
She watched as he rose and walked to her window, where he looked out at the sun sinking behind the camp. He was taller than most of the evacuees. His eyes were large and brown, somewhat rounded, perhaps, yet still distinctly Asian. The laugh lines at their corners were generous, and occasional white streaked the blue-black of his hair. He was a nice looking man. Doris felt a sudden need to get him out of her office.
"I've kept you too long, Mr. Satsugai," she said and stood, joining him at the window. "I appreciate your input. I think this has been a very good start."
"I do, too," he replied.
They watched Harriet Haku's husband and little daughter come up the hill toward the offices. From time to time they did that, to walk Harriet back to their dormitory. That child was one of the lucky ones, having both mother and father in the camp already.
"They want some time alone together," Mr. Satsugai said.
"Oh? Do you know the Hakus?"
"I know the pattern. We don't have much privacy in those barracks."
That was particularly true of the bachelor quarters, made up mostly of Issei widowers, at least until younger, unmarried men would be transferred from prison. Like Harriet's husband, Mr. Satsugai was one of the exceptions to the rule. One of the early releases.
"You surprised me this morning," he said, changing the subject. "I wasn't expecting ... well, I wasn't expecting the Center Administrator to be so...conciliatory." He turned to her, looking at her much too long for comfort, then walked back to his chair.
She watched as he slipped on his black suit coat and said to him, "I look forward to the meeting with the blocks' council heads. I appreciate you co-chairing it with me."
"I'll get back to you Wednesday with a date." He began toward the door, then stopped. "I'm very glad we ran into each other, Mrs. Tebbe."
"Me, too," Doris replied crisply, nervous with the warmth in her guest's voice. "This plan might not have happened otherwise."
Mr. Satsugai looked at her a moment more. He seemed amused. "Good night," he said.
She watched him from her window as the evening gloomed and he made his way toward camp. She felt suddenly and keenly alone in her barren, wooden office, as the night fell and the full moon, nearly risen, rolled toward emergence.
Chapter 5
Tulenar Internment Camp
First Night. Full Moon.
There wasn't an inch of earth the beast didn't know. It had roamed the world since the dawn of humanity, its memory rich and full, flowing through muscle and brain. Loping along the road to Tulenar after the long, burning run, it was confident in direction, comfortable with the path, eyes bright and fixed toward its goal.
A quarter mile before reaching camp, it veered toward the hills and climbed to a weather-ravaged point that overlooked the high, new fence and lighted windows. The moon shone down from a cloudless sky, the beast's silver pelt sparking where the breeze rippled the fur. Here, it waited for the camp's lights to wink out.
There were tales in the scents floating up to the beast. The guards at their posts evoked little interest. The wooden structure on the hill and its little village of fresh, wooden houses, leaked intriguing anxieties but the beast would ignore them tonight. The scents told the beast that the best kills were in the camp proper. It padded down the hillside and circled to Tulenar's eastern edge.
The barbed wire snapped like sparrows' bones between its jaws, the metallic taste reminiscent of blood and teasing the beast toward its desire. The kill was warm and moving two structures ahead, an old male. By the way his scent filtered through the smell of wood, the beast knew he was still in the barracks.
It swiveled its ears toward the prey's shelter, the smells and sounds of future kills dulling as they settled into sleep. But in a moment the distinctness of the chosen one sifted away from the others. His were lazy murmurs and shuffling, then gradually he became more active, moving to the far end of the barracks.
The kill emerged. But with him were two young ones, a male and female, their redolence betraying apprehension well before their gestures and noises did. The prey walked a few paces from the barracks with them, his head down as he listened intently to the young ones. When their nervous chatter quieted, the old man stopped walking with them and spoke, his voice low and earnest.