Four-Four-Two - Softcover

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Dean Hughes is the author of more than eighty books for young readers, including the popular sports series Angel Park All-Stars, the Scrappers series, the Nutty series, the widely acclaimed companion novels Family Pose and Team Picture, Search and Destroy, and Four-Four-Two. His novel Soldier Boys was selected for the 2001 New York Public Library Books for the Teen Age list. Dean Hughes and his wife, Kathleen, have three children and nine grandchildren. They live in Midway, Utah.

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Four-Four-Two

CHAPTER 1

December 1941

Yuki Nakahara was stacking wooden boxes according to size in a musty storage shed. As he walked past the open door, he saw a car driving up the dirt road toward the farm. It was traveling too fast, jolting, dust billowing up behind it. Yuki stopped and watched. He could see that the car was a new ’41 Ford—a fancier car than he usually saw this far away from Berkeley—and Yuki was almost sure he knew what that meant. He felt himself tighten, his chest suddenly rigid, but he had no idea what he should do.

The black car stopped between the storage shed and the house. Two men got out, both of them wearing dark suits and hats. They each turned and looked around, clearly checking out the farm, the buildings. One of the men noticed Yuki, so Yuki stepped from the shed and tried to look calm. He walked toward the tall man on the driver’s side. The man removed his hat and asked, “Is your father home, young man?”

Yuki didn’t like the look of the guy. His dark hair was combed back slick, and his shirt collar was stiff and bright white—like he was someone official. His voice had sounded polite, but the look in his narrowed eyes was menacing.

“Are you produce buyers, or—”

“We need to talk to your father.” The man’s tone was suddenly curt, but then he brought it under control as he said, “Would you please take us to him?”

Yuki thought of running to his father, telling him to hide. But he knew he couldn’t do that. “I saw him walk into the house a few minutes ago,” Yuki said. “I’ll see if he’s still there.” He walked past the man and headed toward the house.

Both men followed, walking fast enough to keep up. The second man—a smaller fellow with a brown suit, black hair, dark eyes—caught up to Yuki at the front door, where Yuki stopped to remove his boots. “Leave your shoes on,” the man said. “We’ll go in with you. Just tell your father someone wants to see him—nothing else.” He had a low, hard voice and some kind of accent, maybe New York. Yuki nodded, but he shoved the door open and stepped hard on the hardwood floor inside. He wanted to make as much noise as possible. The two men separated inside the little living room and stood on either side of him. Yuki thought of shouting to his father, telling him to run out the back door, but Father would never do that. He would be respectful. It was the way he dealt with white people, always.

When Yuki took a step toward the kitchen, the bigger man reached out and grabbed his shoulder, held him back. And then he announced, “Mr. Nakahara, we need to speak to you. We’re agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

Yuki’s mother stepped into the living room from the kitchen. She was wearing a white apron over her housedress. Her hair was pulled back tight against her head. She was tiny, but now she took a breath and raised her shoulders. She looked directly at the men—one and then the other. “I’m Mrs. Nakahara. What may I do for you?” she asked.

The man removed his hat. “Is Mr. Nakahara at home?” he asked.

“Is there anything I can—”

“My name is Agent Carson. This is Agent Aldo. As I said, we’re from the FBI. We need to speak to your husband.” Now there was more force in his voice.

Father had appeared by then, behind Mother. He was wearing his work clothes, a bulky wool jacket over overalls. He had taken off his boots, and in his stocking feet, he seemed to shrink before the men.

“Are you Mr. Nakahara?”

Father nodded, or maybe bowed just slightly.

“Do you publish a Japanese-language newspaper?”

He nodded again.

“We understand you keep close ties to people in Japan. Is that right?”

Mother said, “He doesn’t speak much English, Mr. Carson. He has relatives in Japan, and he writes letters to them now and then, but his ties are all to this country now. He has lived here for more than thirty years.”

“Well, that’s what you say,” Agent Aldo said. “But he’s on our list. Tell him we’re arresting him.”

Yuki’s breath stopped.

Father spoke better English than Mother was letting on, and he had surely understood the word “arrest,” but he didn’t move, didn’t show any reaction.

Mother’s hands had jumped, as though of their own accord, but then she grasped them together. Yuki saw her blink, knew she was fighting tears, but her voice was strong when she said, “I don’t understand. What are the charges against my husband?”

“I told you, he’s on a list. Tell him he’s got to come with us.”

“But you can’t arrest him for no reason. He hasn’t done anything wrong.” She took a step sideways, placing herself in front of her husband.

“If that’s the case, he has nothing to worry about,” Agent Carson said. “But for right now, he has to come with us.”

“Where will you take him?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s not our job to explain everything to you. We’ve been sent to bring him in. I guess you’ll hear from others who can tell you the details.”

“Must he go with you right now? Can’t he—”

“I’m afraid we’re going to take him now. We do need to search your house, however. I want you and your son to sit right here in the living room while we put your husband in our car. Then one of us will come back and do the search.”

“Search for what?”

“Look, lady,” Aldo said, “you don’t ask the questions. We do. Sit down, you and your son. Do you have other children?”

“Yes. Two daughters and another son.”

“Where are they?”

“Not home from school yet. They come on a bus.”

“And what about you?” He looked at Yuki. “Don’t you go to school?”

“I get out earlier, so I help my father on the farm. We work hard. We’re Americans. We—”

“Stop right there. I don’t want to hear all that,” Aldo said.

Carson put up his hand, as if to say “That’s enough” to his partner. “We’re going to ask you to go with us now, Mr. Nakahara,” he said.

“I must change clothes,” Father said.

“No, sir, you don’t need to do that. They’ll have clothes for you where you’re going. Were those your shoes on the porch?”

“Yes.”

“Just grab them as we go out. That’s all you’ll need.”

Agent Aldo stepped forward and took hold of Mr. Nakahara’s arm. “Come with us now,” he said. He pulled on Father’s elbow and Father stumbled forward, then caught his balance and looked at Mother. “Where am I going?” he asked in Japanese. Yuki had attended Japanese language school when he was younger. He didn’t speak Japanese fluently, but he understood most things his parents said.

Mother didn’t answer her husband. She stepped toward Carson. “You can’t do this. This is America. You must tell us what he is charged with.”
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