War of the Eagles Read Free Page A

roof. They had just re-tarred it during the summer. I’d watched them doing it, and stood there taking deep breaths. I love the smell of tar. In Rupert things don’t have to be built for warmth but they have to be watertight. I can hardly remember a day here when it didn’t at least try to rain or snow.
    The curtains on the windows were all closed and it looked lonely and deserted. A rusting set of swings was off to the side. In the back was the sorriest excuse for a baseball field I ever saw. The backstop and the infield weren’t bad, but the outfield was pathetic. Bad enough that it was littered with rocks, but it was so tiny. Even a puny eight-year-old could be a hero and belt a homer out into the forest. Games were always being called off because we ran out of balls that had been hit into the for–est and disappeared into the ferns and undergrowth.
    Rupert was a real baseball town. The kids loved play–ing ball. Even the Japanese kids, who seemed to have this strange idea that school was only about learning, played ball. Good ball. Tadashi had a “live” arm and usu–ally pitched. He played fair but he didn’t mind whistling one up right under your nose if you were crowding the plate. Hard but fair.
    The school was on a rise on the edge of the town.
    â€œQuite a sight,” Tadashi said, spreading his arms out.
    â€œRupert?”
    â€œOf course, Rupert. It’s exciting. Look at all the houses, the stores, ships out in the harbor, cars, streets … people.”
    â€œThis place?” I laughed. “Compared to Vancouver or Victoria, this is just a little pimple.”
    â€œDon’t rub it in,” he said, his eyes scanning the hori–zon. “This is the biggest pimple I’ve ever seen. Someday I’ll see more. More than just Victoria or even Vancouver.”
    â€œMy father says that even Vancouver isn’t much compared to other places, places like London. He says Prince Rupert isn’t the end of the world but you can see it from here,” I said.
    My father thinks the center of the world, the center of civilization, is in Europe and the only thing we have that comes close is Victoria, because it’s modeled after London. That’s why we finally settled there to set up his business, because it reminded him of home. Of course, for my mother, home is Rupert. She says home is wherever you were raised. I was raised in so many places I feel comfortable in lots of them but not really home in any of them.
    I once asked my father why he lived in the sticks if he thought civilization was so wonderful. He told me civilization would be just fine if it wasn’t for all the damn people.
    â€œI’m not going to spend my whole life on the edge of the world,” Tadashi said. “I want to see more, do more than my father. I don’t want to be just a fisherman.”
    â€œNothing wrong with being a fisherman.”
    â€œCome on, Jed, I didn’t say there was. I just want more.”
    â€œPlenty of call for doctors everywhere.” Tadashi wanted to go into medicine.
    â€œYou’re right,” he nodded. “A doctor is a good thing to be. Lots of money. Lots of opportunity. Lots of re–spect. It’s what my father wants for me.”
    â€œYou’ll be a good doctor. Not that I’d trust you to fix anything of mine,” I joked.
    â€œVery reassuring. I just hope my Japanese is good enough to get me through school.”
    â€œYour Japanese?”
    â€œYeah. I’ll have to go to Japan to study.”
    â€œWhy Japan? We got schools here for that sort of thing.”
    Tadashi shrugged. “Not schools for me. They don’t let Japanese into them.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, Japanese? You were born here.
    Your father is a naturalized Canadian. You’re Canadian.”
    â€œYellow skin, slanty dark eyes, dark hair. To some people I can’t ever be a Canadian.” His voice had