Missing in Action by Dean Hughes

him on the shoulder. “You don’t get it yet. You’re just a kid. But you’ll figure it out. Just remember what I’m telling you, and after a while, maybe you’ll catch on.”
    Jay was nodding again, but that only made Ken laugh all the more.
    Ken turned away and stepped up on the tractor, but before he started it, he said, “So those guys on your baseball team, are they good players?”
    â€œNo. Not very.”
    â€œI coach a team out at the camp. Young kids like you. Do you think they would play us sometime?”
    â€œI guess they would.”
    â€œWhat do your friends say about us?”
    â€œYou mean . . .”
    â€œJaps. What do they say about the Japs out at Topaz?” Ken was gripping the steering wheel of the tractor.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œYes, you do. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me the truth.”
    Jay looked out across the field. “They say some of you are spies, and you might want to go back and help the Japanese bomb California.”
    Ken laughed. “What else?”
    â€œGordy’s dad said you’ll need cars, and you’ll steal them in Delta. You’ll cut people’s throats at night and then take their cars.”
    Ken laughed hard at that, but his voice was tight, not easy, the way it usually was. “What about Gordy? Does he think that too?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    â€œI don’t think you’ll cut anyone’s throat.”
    â€œHey, I might. Maybe I’ll start with you. You better sleep with one eye open.”
    Jay finally smiled.
    â€œSo you and me—Jap and Indian—are we okay? You like me all right, don’t you?”
    Jay thought of saying that he wasn’t an Indian, but it didn’t matter. “Yeah. We’re okay.”
    Ken tried to laugh again, but it didn’t come out too well. “Do you know who those people are out there at the camp?”
    Jay didn’t know what Ken meant.
    Ken twisted in his seat, then leaned forward with his gloved hands on his knees. “They’re mostly farmers. Or they owned little shops. They don’t cut people’s throats. My dad is Japanese through and through, but his heart is broken right in half. He was making a go of things, running his little farm, and he could see how me and my sisters could do better here than back in the old country. Now he has nothing.”
    â€œGordy and those guys were just talking, mostly.”
    â€œSo what did you tell them?”
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought. Did you tell ’em you’ve been working with a Jap?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThat’s all right. I don’t blame you. But look at me, Jay.”
    He looked up at Ken, who was still leaning down. “My dad would never hurt anyone. He couldn’t do it if he had to. And that’s how the other men are. They’re not like me. If they came into town, they wouldn’t say hello to anyone. They would get off the sidewalk and let people go by. I know what you hear aboutthe Japanese army, and how they do things, but the people I know, the ones out at the camp, aren’t like that.”
    Jay nodded.
    â€œMy whole family lives in a place sixteen feet wide and twenty feet long. Two more families live in the same barracks, and there’s hardly any walls between us. If we were troublemakers, we’d be having riots. We’d be standing up for ourselves, saying we won’t put up with that stuff. But everyone’s just doing what they have to do to get by until the war’s over. After that, no one’s going to keep us down—at least not me.”
    Ken turned the key and pressed the starter button. The engine caught and started to grumble. “My name’s not Kenji,” Ken yelled over the sound. “Not anymore. It’s Ken. I’m an American. If you tell those boys anything, you tell them that.”

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