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 voice piped up.
With a thud in her gut, Lily realized it was Kaz. She couldn’t believe it. He’d gotten up behind Kenny, as though they were a pair of hooligans.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” said Mrs. Okada. “Our people wouldn’t have anything to do with the black market.”
“Our people?” Kenny chuckled. “Lady, there ain’t no ‘our people’ in here. There’s just you and me and a bunch of Jackalopes who’re getting a helluva lot better treatment than you and me. All because they’re doing favours.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Burt shook his head, like he was talking to a couple of feeble-minded children. “You don’t know the first thing about how much Frank Isaka’s done for our community.”
“Oh, Frank Isaka.” Kaz made a sour face.
“Where is he?” Kenny said. “He ain’t even here — he’s off at some fancy conference giving speeches about the grand history of the JACC, full of pretty words about cheerful co-operation, offerin’ our boys up for the draft. Can you believe it? He thinks our boys should fight for Uncle Sam while we’re all cooped up here!”
A ripple of anger passed through the crowd.
“So what’ve you got to say to that?” Kenny leaned in at Burt.
“Bakatare is what I say!” Kaz hissed.
Burt continued defending the JACC, but he didn’t get very far before Kenny lunged forward and knocked him to the ground. A blur of fists pummelling like rocks down a hill, gaining momentum with every rotation. All the rage that had been pent up in him for years — humiliation layered upon humiliation — was now being taken out on Burt’s poor face.
A scream pierced the air. It took several seconds for Lily to realize that it was coming from her own throat, and by then her voice was drowned out by the hooting and hollering of everyone around her.
Six
She pulled the curtain around her bed and curled up, curled into herself. Her thoughts had recoiled to that little cave at the back of her brain. She didn’t want to let any images in. That body on the floor — moaning, mewling. So many shining, riveted faces. But Kenny’d had the right idea: he calmly straightened up and began clearing away dishes, as though he were just minding his own business. A bored sigh, heaving shoulders, roll of the eyes. Show’s over. The crowd scattered as the guards came hollering in. No one dared to point a finger his way. Not even the table of JACCers, not even Burt. At last Dr. Takemitsu arrived to take Burt to the hospital.
Lily edged closer to the wall, sand whipping against its other side. Through the cascade she could hear Aunt Tetsuko’s muffled chatter, followed by the tearful whimpering of one of the younger children. Audrey climbed onto the bunk above, softly passing gas. Hard for Lily to believe that these people were her family. They felt more like prison mates in this wasteland, this desert purgatory.
Now more than ever, she knew she had to go to the aqueduct. Kaz had fallen under Kenny’s spell so utterly that he wasn’t even himself anymore. She needed to protect him, to restore him to his true self. This was what the doctor had asked of her.
At last everyone was snoring. Rising stealthily, she pulled a shawl over her shoulders, tiptoed across the squeaking floorboards, and slipped outside.
The night air was cold and cutting — she’d never been out this late in the desert. Sand was spraying all over her, like a shower of glass shards across the skin. Her eyes adjusted, narrowed to slits, her lashes providing something of a filter. The pain faded to a tingle. At least the haze provided camouflage.
Just as she was about to start running, she sensed movement up ahead. Her heart lurched, pattered madly. It was that loutish, red-haired guard. He’d been watching her since the very first day of her arrival. Herding everyone along toward the registration desk, his arm had jostled against her breast — nothing accidental about it, his stare made clear.
Now he was strolling past the barracks, toes turned outward to accommodate his pork barrel of a belly. Why wasn’t he off playing poker, drunk out of his skull?
Pressed flat against the wall, she waited several seconds, sweat trickling down her rib cage. At last, he turned the corner. Still her heart wouldn’t stop hammering. Should she turn back? Of course she should. What on earth had she been thinking?
To her surprise, she found herself running ahead. Drawing the shawl over her head, she ran blindly, sticking close to the barrack walls — one dark building after another. The sky stretched open to swallow her up in its infinite blackness. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. A cramp cut across her abdomen and her legs turned rubbery as they sped across the ground with some force that seemed to come from beyond her own body. Sand blew back in her face and filled her mouth as she gasped for
