He might not be aware of how much he needed her, but it was only a matter of time.
And then, one day, after Lily had eaten lunch all by herself, Kaz intercepted her outside.
“Hey, there.” He squeezed her hand, lowered his voice. “Let’s meet up later, okay?”
“Meet up? But … where?”
“The aqueduct. Meet me there tomorrow night after curfew?”
Her heart sped up. The aqueduct was one of the few secluded places where young couples could sneak off for a snatch of privacy and long, hungering kisses in the twilight. But after curfew? “I can’t, Kaz. Are you out of your mind?” How on earth did he expect her to sneak past Aunt Tetsuko and the night guards? What kind of girl did he think she was, anyway?
“Relax, you. I just want to spend time with you away from everyone, away from the craziness of this place.” He explained that the guards on duty tomorrow night were known to indulge in a boozy poker game. So it wouldn’t be too difficult to sneak out.
Despite her indignation, excitement blossomed inside her. So Kaz had fallen for her. He wanted to be alone with her after dark.
A moonlight rendezvous. She imagined them hiding in the aqueduct together, as though the land itself had opened up its secrets, drawn them deep into its sinuous troughs and crevices. The brush of his lips, the drumbeat of her heart, his hands running through her hair….
It was crazy — was she actually thinking about going?
“I can’t, Kaz.”
“You can. Tomorrow night, I’ll be there waiting.”
At dinner, she hardly ate a thing. She masticated a mouthful of rice, not touching the soggy brown stew. When Jimmy, her little cousin, asked if he could have it, she passed her plate over, but Aunt Tetsuko shook her head.
“You have to eat, Lily. You’re getting so thin.”
“That’s how the judges like it.”
Aunt Tetsuko sighed, like she didn’t have the heart to speak her mind. “You want to keep fainting?”
Fainting, sleeping, dreaming: in truth, these states of unconsciousness were more pleasant, or more tolerable at least, than the lucid world.
Her real life was about to begin tomorrow night, if only she could muster the nerve.
What if she got caught, though? What would she say? She pictured herself sweating and stammering lies. These days, more folks than ever were being plucked out for interrogation and some never returned. It didn’t take much to be labelled a bad apple.
The next day was particularly sweltering, unbearable. By noon, after weaving hundreds of scraps through the giant spiderweb, Lily’s fingers were about to fall off. She closed her eyes and thought about Kaz: their meeting that night hovered before her like an island of escape, a cool mirage.
At lunch, Mrs. Okada sat down beside her. “Why does the food here look like dog food?”
“Tastes like dog food, too!” Her son, Johnny, stared at his plate, lumpy grey sauce congealed on the ball of rice.
“It’s not so bad with a bit of soy sauce,” Lily said.
Johnny stared back, hormones raging through his pimply cheeks. “Nothing disguises the taste of this slop!”
Why did she bother being nice to anyone? People liked you better if you were just as surly as everyone else.
The boy’s eyes, full of aggression, darted back to Lily. “I can’t eat this slop!” He pushed his plate across the table with such force it landed right in her lap. Horror and laughter poured from his beady eyes. She cringed as the hot muck seeped onto her thighs.
By now people were looking over. There was Kaoru one table over, her lips puckered. A few other girls, who used to go to Lily’s school, appeared barely able to contain themselves, too.
Mrs. Okada leaned across the table and cuffed her son’s ear. “Now look what you’ve done — apologize!”
“Why should I?” Johnny stood up. “I want to talk to the cook!”
They were sitting close enough to the kitchen for the staff to hear. Out swaggered Kenny Honda, a stout kibei guy in his mid-thirties, with biceps like ham hocks.
“Who says I can’t cook?”
Years ago, Kenny used to be a boxing champion. He was so quick on his feet that he might have had a shot at the big league if he hadn’t suffered one bad fight and lost sight in his left eye. Nasty luck. It left him bitter. Now his fighter instincts came out in his temper. He was the ringleader of the group that Kaz had been hanging around far too much.
“You wanna see what’s in my pantry? You wanna try cookin’ for hundreds from a few bags of rice and some old cans of beans?” His good eye glinted like a dagger while his other eye wandered left of centre, an eerie grey pool.
Johnny refused to sit down. “I’ve seen you guys unload food from the trucks. There’s more in there than just this slop!”
“Come in and look for yourself! Bare shelves. And if that ain’t bad enough, stuff’s been disappearin’ again. Two more bags of sugar vanished last night without a trace.”
A kitchen guy appeared behind him. “It’s true. We’re living among thieves!”
By this point everyone was listening. Kenny was a popular guy; people throughout camp respected him. Tense glances darted across the tables. It wasn’t the first time he and his crew had called attention to missing food.
The rumours all started a few months ago when Kenny noticed that a sack of sugar had disappeared. He told his friends, and that got everyone talking. Then cooks in mess halls on other blocks also noticed sugar unaccounted for. And the more people talked, the more the list of vanished items grew: chunks of meat, carrots, potatoes. A vat of chicken casserole must have grown legs and walked off on its own.
Mrs. Okada scanned the room. “But who among us would steal?”
“Let me tell you,” Kenny said, more kitchen workers gathering behind him. “You know how the Jackrabbits are always pointing fingers at me, sayin’ I’m a bad apple? They’re the bad apples. They don’t give a rat’s ass that the camp supervisors are selling our food on the black market!”
A stunned silence settled over the crowd.
“Why should they?” someone shouted.
“You’re damn right.” Kenny raised a finger in the air. There was something theatrical about all his gestures, as if he were enjoying being back in the ring after all these years, putting on a show for the crowd.
“They’re in the pay,” Tony Shibuya shouted out. “All the JACC guys are in the pay — they’re just a bunch of traitors and lapdogs of this stinking camp administration.”
“They’re in cahoots with the camp guards, who’re selling our food on the black market!”
“Now you’ve gone too far, Kenny,” boomed a voice from across the room. Burt Kondo, a prominent member of the JACC, had stood up, his tall, lean body like a flagpole. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so why don’t you just shut your trap?”
“And who’s gonna make me?” Kenny strolled over.
A hush came over the crowd, and Burt froze. The indignation in his eyes rapidly faded, his skin waxy pale.
“Think you’re so kashikoi now?”
“Sure has been a long time since we had anything sweet,” another