took a breath and continued. “The Emishi abandoned their capital and fled north, where they built a new home surrounded by beautiful mountains and forests. But the Wa were not satisfied, and invaded there, too. This time, the Emishi decided to fight back. It was a long, long battle. Many Emishi died—women and children too.”
Jet glanced over at Satoko, feeling grief wrap itself around her mother like a thick wool cape. She inhaled and carried on. “Finally, the Emishi surrendered. And here is the saddest part. They were sold as slaves to the Wa. Their only hope was of returning to their homeland someday. That dream kept them alive.”
At this, her mother had always cried, and tonight was no different. Seeing the tears stream down her mother’s face, Jet began to cry, too.
“What happened then?” Satoko urged her daughter.
“The age of the Mikado ended, and the samurai lords attained power. There were various classes of samurai, the lowest being mountain bandits….”
“No. They were ninja,” Satoko murmured. “Those who hide quietly in the darkness, those who can put the heart over the blade.”
“What?” Jet asked. She stopped, unsure as to whether to continue.
“Go on,” Satoko urged.
“I don’t know that part,” Jet admitted, filled with concern.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” Satoko said in a raspy voice. “One day, a girl was born to the genin, the slaves, the ninja. She grew up to be beautiful, strong, and smart. The head of her ryu ordered her to infiltrate a samurai castle disguised as a servant so she could determine the lord’s military strength and find out when he’d attack his rival.”
“Genin? Ryu?” Jet puzzled over the words. Satoko had told her of the girl before, but never this. Satoko lifted her eyes to Jet and sat up taller, her spine straighter than before. She spoke more forcefully now, as if the words were giving her strength, feeding her energy.
“The girl was headstrong and willful. She saw only an opportunity for her people to be released from slavery, and nothing more. She became close to the lord, confided in him: ‘My master has joined forces with your rival. He and other families are preparing to attack you. Now’s a good chance to attack them first.”’
By now, a hint of color had returned to Satoko’s gaunt face. “Furious, the lord attacked his rival and the tribes in the mountains and wiped them out. But the girl had already relayed her plan to the genin, who escaped before the attack.”
Jet listened intently, almost holding her breath.
“That’s how the slave tribes returned to their homeland as a free people,” Satoko said. “They rebuilt their villages and lived peacefully in nature.”
With a satisfied look, Satoko finished and lay back against the pillow, breathing deeply. She pulled Jet closer, guided her daughter’s head onto her chest.
“Mom, hang on!” Jet called out, feeling her mother’s life force grow faint.
Satoko’s voice fell to a whisper. “Each new generation learns about this brave girl who helped their ancestors survive. But the generations are getting smaller and smaller, moving away, forgetting. If we aren’t careful, they’ll disappear altogether…”
“What can I do, Mother? What can I do?” Jet pleaded.
“You have to go back,” Satoko spoke painstakingly, as if each word contained another diminishing ounce of strength.
“Back where?” Jet asked squeezing her mother’s hand.
“To Hinomoto. To Japan.”
“How can I go back, Mom? I’ve never been there before!” Jet caught herself as the familiar sarcasm edged into her voice. No. Not now. Not now. Stop it!
Satoko gripped Jet’s hand with a strength she’d never feel again. “Well, that’s all the more reason to go now, isn’t it?” she answered.
Jet held back her frustration. “Why, Mom? Why?”
“Sometimes we have to risk everything in the present to gain the future,” Satoko whispered and pressed something into Jet’s palm. A rolled up paper.
“What’s this?” Jet asked, surprised.
“Open it. It’s from your grandfather Masakichi,” she whispered. “Go see him in Aomori. For me.”
“My grandfather?” Jet cried. She’d had only the vaguest notion of such a person. “Is he even still alive?”
Satoko smiled. “Very much so. Don’t be afraid of him. Whatever he asks you, you must do. There’s no time to lose.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about this?” Jet’s words came out whispery with fear.
“There’s so much more to learn, but you have the gift,” Satoko said assuringly, a sense of urgency permeating her words.
Jet unrolled the paper. It was a hand-drawn map with a route to a mountain village.
She was about to ask her mother to explain more when the trailer door opened. A ray of light came in from the lamp outside. Satoko looked up. Jet turned to see a tall, quiet man standing above them. It was J-Bird, Satoko’s boyfriend. She’d been waiting for his arrival. Waiting for him to come so she could go.
J-Bird’s long, gray hair was tied back as always. He took his shoes off and sat quietly on the bed by her side. He dusted off his hands on his faded jeans and took Satoko’s hands in his.
“Open the curtains,” Satoko said.
Jet slid them aside. The torn yellowed curtains had never entirely covered the windows anyway, she realized. They’d been left over from their last house and didn’t match the trailer’s size. Everything in my life is mismatched, she thought.
Light from the full moon streamed in.
A smile spread across Satoko’s lips. She told them about the tsukimi-mado—the moon-viewing window in her father’s home, the way moonlight streamed in clear and shining like a crystal river. The thought seemed to touch something within her, calming her to the core.
Delirious now, Satoko asked if the moon one saw in America was the same one Jet would see in Japan.
“Of course, Mother!” Jet said. But was it really the same?
J-Bird moved aside. Jet lay her head on her mother’s chest again, wanting to melt into it. “Don’t go, Mom. I’ll find Grandpa, I promise. And I’ll tell you all about it when I come back,” she said.
“Good,” Satoko murmured. “I look forward to that.” Satoko’s breath was labored now.
Feeling her mother slipping away, Jet took her hand.
“Mom!” she cried. “Wait!”
But Satoko’s eyes were closed.
Taking a deep breath, Jet looked into her mother’s mind. She saw the ancient
