AN EXCERPT FROM

The Sign on the Door

 

Tomi stopped just outside the grocery store where her mother always shopped and peered through the glass in the door’s window. She loved the smells inside, of saw-dust on the floor and of the bread that came in bright wrappers. Just beyond the door, she knew, were orderly displays of fresh fruit and vegetables—fat strawberries in green baskets, rows of corn covered by papery husks, cabbages as big as a baby’s head.
 

Most of all, Tomi loved the candy displayed in the big glass case. With a penny in her hand, she would choose from among the jumble of Tootsie Rolls, inky black licorice, and other sweets. Today, she thought, looking through the glass, she would pick two jawbreakers from a glass bowl. The jawbreakers were two for a penny, which meant she and her brother Hiro could each have one.
 

She pushed the door open and heard the jingle of the bell that announced customers entering the store. But just before she stepped onto the old wooden floor, she spotted a sign taped to the window. Her mouth dropped open, and she stopped so abruptly that Hiro ran into her.
 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.
 

Tomi turned around. “I left the penny at school,” she said.
 

“It’s in your hand,” he told her.
 

Tomi looked down at her fingers, which clutched the coin. “We’re not going in there.”
 

Tomi took her brother’s hand and tried to pull him away, but Hiro refused to move. Then he spied the sign on the door. “What’s that sign say?” he asked.
 

“I can’t read it,” Tomi said quickly.
 

“You’re twelve, and you can so read it. I’m seven, and I can read, too.” He squinted as he sounded out the words. Then he looked up at his sister. “It says ‘No Japs.’ That’s not a very nice word, is it?”
 

Tomi shook her head and tugged at her brother.
 

“Mom says the word is ‘Japanese.’ ‘Jap’ is a mean word,” Hiro said.
 

He read the sign again, then grinned. “It’s okay, Tomi. We’re not Japanese. We’re Americans. We can go in.”

Just then, a man in a white apron came to the door and stared at Tomi and Hiro.
 

“Hi, Mr. Akron,” Hiro said. She and Tomi had bought candy from Mr. Akron ever since they could remember.

Mr. Akron looked uncomfortable. He made a shooing motion with his hand. “Go on, kids. Scram. Can’t you read the sign?” He wiped his hands on his apron.
 

Tomi stared at him a moment, then said, “Come on, Hiro. Let’s go. They don’t want us here. Besides, who cares about that old candy anyway?” She looked at the ground instead of at her brother or the grocer. Her face was red as she stared at the sidewalk, wishing her mother had never given her the penny. She wanted to be anywhere but in front of the store where the man thought she was a Jap.
 

“How come we can’t come in?” Hiro asked.
 

The grocer ran his finger around the inside of his collar. “You Japs bombed Pearl Harbor,” he said, then turned and went inside, closing the door.
 

“Me and Tomi didn’t bomb anybody,” Hiro called through the glass, but Mr. Akron ignored him.

“Come on, Hiro!” Tomi yanked her brother along the sidewalk. She walked with her head down. Her hair hid her face, she hoped nobody would recognize her. She had never been so embarrassed in her life.
 

“I don’t understand. What’s Pearl Harbor?” Hiro asked, stumbling along beside his sister. “Why won’t he sell us candy?”

Tomi turned the corner and headed toward a park. It was the long way home, but they weren’t likely to run into any kids they knew, and that was good. She didn’t want anyone to find out what had just happened.
 

They reached a bench, and Tomi sat down, Hiro next to her.
 

“What’s Pearl Harbor?” Hiro asked again.
 

Tomi took a deep breath. “It’s a place in Hawaii. The Japanese bombed our American ships there, and lots of sailors were killed.”
 

“Jeepers!” Hiro tried to whistle through his teeth, but his front teeth were missing, so the sound came out like a rush of wind. “How come they did that?”
 

Tomi shook her head. “I don’t know. I heard it on the radio, and I heard Mom and Pop talk about it, but they stopped when they found out I was listening. So I don’t understand everything. I just know President Roosevelt declared war on Japan.”
 

“But why won’t Mr. Akron let us into his store?”
 

“I guess he thinks we’re spies or something, you know, like they talk about on the radio.”
 

Hiro thought that over, then asked, “Spies? Who are we supposed to spy for?”
 

“Japan,” Tomi answered.
 

“But we’ve never been there. Heck, Tomi, we don’t even speak Japanese.”
 

“Mom and Pop both came from Japan, and our grandparents Jiji and Baba still live there.”
 

“We don’t even know them,” Hiro said.
 

Tomi shrugged. “I don’t understand it, either. We say the Pledge of Allegiance every day in school, and we salute the flag. Pop always told us he and Mom were the best Americans because they chose to live in this country; they chose for you and me and Roy to be born here.” Roy, their older brother, was sixteen.
 

“Are we going to tell Mom about the sign?” Hiro asked.
 

Tomi looked down at Hiro. “I don’t know. Maybe we should so that she doesn’t shop there.” Tomi didn’t like the idea that Mr. Akron might be rude to her mother.
 

The two of them sat on the bench, not talking for a few minutes. It was winter, and although snow didn’t fall in their southern California town not far from the ocean, the weather was cold. Tomi felt the chill and shivered. She started to tuck her hands into the sleeves of her sweater, then realized she was still holding the penny. “Those jaw-breakers would probably break our teeth. I don’t want one anyway,” she told her brother.
 

“Me neither,” Hiro said. He grinned, and Tomi punched his arm.

“Besides, you don’t have enough teeth to chew one,” she said.