Caged Eagles Read Online Free Page B

to even breathe, as I moved to his side. He didn’t seem to notice my approach and continued to stare into the distance. I cleared my throat to signal my presence.
    â€œSit,” he said quietly, still not looking at me. I sat on the floor in my space, to his right-hand side, folding my legs under the table. I knew he had something he wanted to say to me. I also knew that he wouldn’t speak right away, and that we’d sit in silence for a while. The longer we sat without talking, the more serious what he had to say.
    Finally he spoke. “It is a good house.”
    I nodded.
    â€œIt has kept us warm and dry and safe.” He paused.
    â€œIt has been a good place for our family.”
    He was right, of course. It was a good place … although I’d never thought about it much before all of this. I didn’t know what to say back, but realized there wasn’t any reason for me to talk anyway. I was here to listen.
    â€œThis house … and everything in it … everything I own … is yours.”
    As the oldest male, I knew that — but that wasn’t what he’d sat me down to tell me.
    â€œI do not know how long we will be gone.”
    Of course, he didn’t; nobody did.
    â€œOr what will remain when we return.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    He didn’t answer right away, and with each passing second I became more alarmed. Did he know something that he wasn’t saying?
    â€œI never thought any of this would happen,” he said softly as he continued to stare into the distance. I realized that during this entire conversation he had never looked at me.
    â€œNot the registration … not when they did not let us leave our village or work in town … not having my boat taken away … not leaving our home. Nothing.”
    â€œBut … but … how could you? Nobody could have known this was going to happen.”
    He nodded his head ever so slightly in agreement. “You are right, Tadashi … nobody could have known. But that only makes the future even more uncertain. We cannot predict what will come next … we just must deal with whatever fate is before us.” His voice had faded to a whisper. “Whatever … family is all that matters … family.”

.3.
    All around us were the other boats from our village. Traveling together like this reminded me of the times when we’d be heading to the mouth of the Skeena for the salmon run. We’d find a place by the mouth of the river and set down our nets and then wait for them to fill with fish. Every hour or so we’d pull them up, remove the fish and wash down the nets. They’d get covered with dirt flowing down the river, and that dirt would make them visible to the fish, and they’d move around them. Some of the local fisherman — people who weren’t Japanese — thought we were crazy, hauling the nets up like that to clean them. They just left their nets in the water. I had to admit that it was a lot of work, but our catches always did seem bigger.
    We crashed through a wave and spray was thrown up into the air. Thank goodness Constable Johnson had been right and the sea wasn’t too rough.
    The first boats up ahead in our procession disappeared as they followed the RCMP launch around the point that led to the entrance of the Prince Rupert harbor. We were almost there, and that made the last of that lump in my stomach disappear. I had been afraid that somewhere along the route the waves were going to kick up and really give us a ride to remember.
    We rounded the curve, and the water was pinched into a narrowing gap leading into the harbor. The seas almost instantly flattened out. Up ahead I could see the first of the military installations protecting Prince Rupert. Two towers, one on each side of the inlet, housed men with artillery and field glasses. They scanned the surface of the water for any submarines that might try to prey on the boats