Cherry Blossom Baseball Read Free Page A

against the law for anyone of Japanese origin to own a boat.”
    â€œLet me ask you something,” Mrs. Morrison said, puffing up like a courting dove. “Was your husband born in this country?”
    â€œOf course he was,” Mrs. King answered in a clipped voice. “Robert grew up down the street from us. What a silly question.”
    â€œWould it be all right if he owned a boat?”
    â€œOf course it would be all right if he owned a boat. But he doesn’t.” Mrs. King waved her hands about her face as if she was shooing flies. “I’m not talking about Mr. King owning a boat, although we certainly could afford one.”
    Mrs. Morrison gave a large sigh. “My husband was born in this country as well,” she said. “Is it all right if he owns a boat?”
    â€œEdna,” Mrs. King said with exasperation, “Ralph knows so much about boats, he is in the navy. You are being ridiculous.”
    â€œYou are the one being ridiculous,” Mrs. Morrison said, placing her hands on her ample hips. “Almost all of the Japanese here were born in Canada. Who cares if they own a boat?”
    â€œThe government cares,” Mrs. King said, clenching her fists. “They could be spying.”
    â€œIn this unimportant town?” Mrs. Morrison asked. Then she paused, put her finger to her chin, and frowned. “Unless,” she said, “unless someone has reason to be watching someone who comes and goes a lot. Like your husband, for example. He does an awful lot of travelling for a small-town banker.” Edna rubbed her hands together. “You know, maybe you should report your suspicious boat. The authorities could find out if your husband is being watched. Who knows what it might all reveal.”
    Mrs. King’s face went ashen. “I don’t know why you have to drag my husband into this.”
    â€œI’m not dragging anyone into anything,” Mrs. Morrison replied. “You’re the one dragging the lake for spies.”
    Michiko crept out from behind the bush into the sunlight to see Mrs. King marching off in one direction as Mrs. Morrison strolled away in the other. She blew a kiss after Mrs. Morrison.
    â€œJust three people?” George asked in his usual whiny voice, bringing her back to the baseball diamond. “How can we play a game of baseball with just three people, especially when one is a girl?”
    â€œWe’re not having a game,” Clarence answered with exasperation. “I told you we would be having a practice.” He turned back to Michiko.
    She positioned herself over the plate, determined to hit the ball. This time she tapped it with the tip of the bat. It bounced foul.
    â€œYou dipped your shoulder,” said a deep voice from behind. She peered out from under her oversized cap and smiled. Her Uncle Kaz picked up the ball and walked over to Clarence.
    â€œHow’s her pitching?” he asked.
    â€œA lot better than her hitting,” Clarence said with a grin. “She’s got a good swing, but she’s afraid of the ball.”
    â€œI am not,” Michiko yelled back, even though she knew Clarence was right.
    â€œYou playing tonight?” Clarence asked Kaz as he left them to their practice.
    â€œBehind the Bachelors’ House,” Kaz said. “You coming to watch?”
    Michiko smiled. Kaz was talking about the house she’d lived in when they’d first arrived in town, ahead of the other Japanese people. When her family moved to the apartment over the drugstore, Michiko’s uncle had filled the bedrooms with bunks for single men. The empty apple depository behind it had become the headquarters for the Men’s Baseball Team. All summer long, under the watchful eye of the RCMP, they had been allowed to travel to other camps for tournaments, and they were in the lead.
    â€œStop closing your eyes and keep them on the ball,” Clarence said. “How can you