Garden of Stones - By Sophie Littlefield Page 0,28

for something to do, learned the principles of the Sakuteiki as their elders selected and set stones and borders; it was not uncommon to see men walking with their eyes cast down, searching for the perfect stone.

Lucy waved to the gardeners as she made her deliveries. She loved how the gardens grew and changed with every passing day, how bridges, paths, arches, even “waterfalls” of pebbles slowly emerged from the dusty earth. The gardens were evidence that beauty could exist even here, that meaning could be found in the humblest objects.

* * *

She didn’t meet Mrs. Kadonada’s son until her second week on the job, because they had opposite shifts: he worked in the mornings, and played baseball in the afternoon when Lucy worked. Baseball fever had seized the camp, since there were so few recreational opportunities, and already there were half a dozen leagues. Jessie, according to Mrs. Kadonada, was a crack first baseman, and his coach, Mr. Hayashi, couldn’t spare him from the thrice-weekly practices.

But on Thursday, when his team ceded the practice field to other boys’ teams, he showed up late in the afternoon as Lucy was returning from her final run of the day. Lucy’s first glimpse of him was a figure disappearing at a run around the side of the administration building; a moment later he was back, a squirming, laughing toddler slung over his shoulder. Lucy knew this had to be Mrs. Kadonada’s son; not only was he about her age, but he was wearing a Padres baseball cap. He was tall, with a wide grin and a little gap between his front teeth.

When he saw Lucy he stopped abruptly, his grin disappearing, and the little boy tumbled to the ground, coughed with surprise and then started to wail.

“You’re fine,” Jessie said without looking, and the boy wailed more loudly. A moment later, Mrs. Kadonada hurried out of the building, looking worried.

“Jessie, what on earth have you done to him?”

“He’s fine, Mom, he just tripped.”

Lucy kept her face impassive; she wasn’t about to challenge his story. Besides, there was something intriguing about a boy who would lie before being properly introduced. She shifted subtly, putting a hand on her hip the way she’d seen the high school girls do when there were boys around.

“Is that right.” Mrs. Kadonada’s skepticism faded when the little boy’s tears trailed away and he dusted himself off. “Come here, Bunki, let me see your hands. Oh, no, you’re filthy! Jessie, where did you take him?”

Jessie shrugged. “The creek.”

Mrs. Kadonada sighed and shook her head. “Lucy, this is my son, Jessie. And this is Bunki Sugimoto, our neighbor. Jessie was supposed to be watching Bunki while his mother does the wash.”

“I did watch him!” Jessie protested, but he looked directly at Lucy and winked. She felt her face flush with something other than embarrassment.

After that, Jessie occasionally lingered after his shift long enough to run into Lucy—especially if she got there early. If Mrs. Kadonada noticed, she didn’t say anything. Mostly, Jessie would toss his baseball in the air and grin and Lucy would pretend to be interested in the newspapers, which were delivered in a twine-bound bundle. When he left, he always said the same thing—“See ya, Luce”—and Lucy would give a half wave. No one else had ever called her Luce, and she thought she might like it.

Those first few minutes of her shift were the best. But as five o’clock neared, her spirits began to sink, and once the vest was hung in the closet next to Mrs. Kadonada’s wool coat and she was on her way back to Block Fourteen, Lucy’s feet dragged. She dreaded finding her mother in bed late in the afternoon, purple circles under her eyes. Sometimes her mother refused to come to the dining hall and Lucy would have to bring her portion back to the room and coax her to eat. Their barrack neighbors were bewildered by Miyako; since they had stopped trying to include her in their outings and socializing, they seemed to have grown suspicious of her.

One afternoon when the temperature had passed one hundred degrees, Lucy came out of the admin building after her shift to find Jessie sitting in the shade of the porch. When he saw her, he got to his feet and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Luce. Want to walk down to the creek? It’s cooler there.”

“But it’s almost—” Lucy stopped herself. She was about to point out that it was nearly