Sachiko the nurse reads the diary of Haruko Harrison's mother
Toshimitsu is back from his second trip to Japan since we emigrated. He sold the last of our family treasures in Japan in order to finance expansion of the farm, which we have been running now for well over 20 years. It is hard to believe that Toshimitsu's brother has been dead for over 10 years now. I have long lost contact with his wife, Emiko, who took their three children back with her from Arkansas to live with her parents in Hiroshima.
At least we are able to make a living these days, though the people in northern California dislike Japanese now even more than before. "You're the same as Indians," said one man, a nearby landowner, "except that they're red and you're yella. Succotash-Americans, that's what I call every last goddamn one of you."
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