Forgiveness by Mark Sakamoto

fish. They had generations’ worth of experience and were exceptionally skilled. By 1925, Japanese were bringing in the biggest hauls in the country. They were prospering in their new home. This did not go unnoticed.
    Toru was a fine brother to Mitsue. Her eyes danced when she reflected on him. She sat on the edge of her seat when he spoke.
    In Celtic, Toru’s position as the eldest son was more than symbolic. It transcended the Japanese way of life. The Pacific’s winterwaters would take Yosuke away for months at a time. This left Toru responsible for his mother and siblings. Every day, Toru would take Mitsue to school on his bike. This was an onerous task. Mitsue had three friends that lived in the same bank of Celtic cannery row houses: Miyoko, Sumiko, and Haruko. Mitsue and Miyoko, in particular, were inseparable. Toru would deliver them all to school, shuttling each girl individually a distance up the road, only to double back and scoop up another until they had all been dropped off at school. The four girls giggled the entire two-mile trek.
    At Kerrisdale Elementary School, Mitsue and Miyoko were the only Japanese kids in their grade. Sumiko and Haruko were the only other Japanese children in the school, which went up to Grade 6.
    Mitsue lived in two worlds. There was the Japanese world, her community in Celtic. Her family, her friends, the food she loved, and the Japanese Centre were all there. That was the world of the familiar, filled with love. But tomorrow was not there. Mitsue knew from a very early age that her future was in the English world, the world of education, modern lifestyle, modern fads. It had movies and fashion and it spoke English. She wanted to be a part of that world. Her parents wanted her to be a part of that world too. She tried to fit in. She was taught to play by the rules, follow the instructions, and not cause any trouble. If she did well, she thought, she would be accepted.
    As the eldest sister, Mitsue bore a lot of responsibility at home. Her mother depended on her. Tomi was a smart, feisty woman. She had had lots of schooling. She loved to study. When she finished grade school in Japan, she had planned to go to college to become a teacher. But her mother told her if she had too much education no man would marry her, so she didn’t go. That had always saddened Mitsue.
    There were a lot of chores that needed to be done to keep the family going—especially when Yosuke was out fishing. Mary was just a few years younger than Mitsue; Susanne was seven years younger. Mitsue loved to help her mother with the ironing. She would iron all of her sisters’ dresses and her brothers’ shirts andslacks. Everything was washed by hand and all the ironing was done on the stove.
    Once a week, a truck from one of the Powell Street stores would come to Celtic. It sold all kinds of Japanese food:
nasubi, bok choy
, tofu, rice,
shoyu
, and
mirin.
There was never a shortage of Japanese food.
    Yosuke and several of his friends rallied to try to make working conditions and pay more equitable for the Japanese fishermen. When on land, Yosuke would go door-to-door trying to convince his fellow fishermen to sell their catch at market rates. If they stuck together, he’d argue, they’d get a fair shake. Some listened, but most didn’t. The concept of fairness seemed out of their grasp.
    Yosuke tried to make life easier for his community and Mitsue tried to make life easier for him. The focus of family life was to assist and to be obedient, to make their parents proud. The sense of duty was constant.
    On the weekends, all the siblings would go to Celtic’s community park, three blocks down Brennan Street. It had an open grass field, and those old enough would play soccer or baseball. Mitsue liked soccer best because she had longer legs than most of the girls and could run faster. The Japanese kids would stick together on the weekends, rarely playing with the white children. Mitsue and Miyoko would play with