told her. âWe are going to fill the orchard with houses, and we need more than two men to do it.â
Michiko clasped her hands. They were going to build a neighbourhood. She had a vision of a street of houses like the ones in her neighbourhood.
âIâll show you,â her uncle offered and led her to a wide makeshift table. He rolled out a long paper, placing his hammer on the curly edge to hold it down.
Michiko realized she was looking at a house with the roof off, just like the dollâs house she had at home.
The drawing showed one big room, divided by two half-walls. Michiko placed her finger on the words and read them out loud. In each corner, small rectangles were labelled âbunksâ. A square in the middle read âcook-stoveâ. A circle across from it read âheat-stoveâ.
She placed her finger on a line with an arrow at the end of it. âIs this the front door?â she asked.
Ted nodded. âOne house, two families,â he murmured. âThe government is so kind to us.â
Before Michiko could ask what he meant, Hiro gave out a gigantic wail.
âHeâs probably hungry,â she said. âHeâs always hungry.â
As Michiko headed back to the farmhouse, shehoped some children lived nearby. It would be nice to have someone to play with while they were on vacation.
That night, as she listened to the sound of crickets, the wind whispering through the pines and the hoot of an owl, Michiko began to wonder why two families would want to share a house. Why wouldnât they live in a house of their own?
Seven
Family Photographs
Trucks laden with lumber travelled back and forth in front of the farmhouse daily, turning the road into two deep muddy ditches.
Michiko made a calendar using the bottom of a cardboard box Geechan brought home. He looked for things of use wherever he went, never returning empty-handed. One day he brought a small enamel basin caked with mud. Another day it was an armful of burlap bags. Sometimes he returned with things to eat. Michiko loved the fleshy fan-shaped mushrooms he gathered from the woods.
When he presented a pailful of wild vegetables to Michikoâs mother, she glanced into it and smiled. Auntie Sadie looked and grimaced.
âWhere did you find them?â Eiko asked.
âDokodemo,â
he replied.
Michiko peeked in at the smooth green stalks with tightly coiled tips.
Geechan nudged her. âTry one.â
She reached in. The strange green antennae were cool to the touch. Their coils were covered in short rusty-brownhairs. Michiko brushed away the hairs and bit into it. It was crisp and, to her surprise, sweet. âWhat are they called?â
âWarabi,â
he said, shrugging his shoulders. He did not know the name in English.
âTheyâre called fiddleheads,â Sadie piped up. âSee how the end looks likes the head of a fiddle?â
Everyone ate the greens for dinner.
âWe need to find out how we can dry them,â Eiko said. âWe could store them like mushrooms.â
âAsk Mrs. Morrison,â Sadie suggested. âThat woman knows everything.â
Mrs. Morrison had visited Michikoâs family once a week since they arrived. Michiko soon came to recognize the sound of her black-laced shoes stomping up the verandah stairs. There would be a short pause before she knocked, in order for her to catch her breath.
Eiko made her black tea, knowing this new friend wasnât fond of the tiny twigs and leaves that floated about in the tea they drank. Mrs. Morrison sipped from the gold-rimmed china cup with pink roses that Eiko had packed. She nibbled on Ritz crackers served on the small green glass plate.
Each visit, Mrs. Morrison brought them something. She gave Geechan a pair of black rubber boots for his walks in the countryside. She won Hiroâs affection by pulling an Arrowroot cookie from her handbag each time he sat on her lap. Sadie received a jar