“It's beautiful,” Jasmine said. “Thank you.”
After everyone was served, Mrs. Talbot sat on a straight-backed chair. “There now, that's better.” She sipped her drink.
Quiet settled over the room. The women drank their tea as each retreated to their private thoughts.
Mattie set her cup in its saucer and looked at her friends. “I thought things were different here. I came to Seattle to get away from people like Sid and the others.”
Mrs. Talbot offered Mattie a gentle smile. “There are people like that everywhere, dear. All we can do is be an example and help folks see that God created us all and loves us all.”
With a sigh, Mattie reluctantly accepted that truth. However, she didn't much feel like loving people such as the ones they'd just stood up to. Jasmine, whose years of hurt etched her face, only nodded.
Jasmine moved a few days later. It was more battle than she was willing to take on. However, the anger and frustration of the tenants didn't go with her. It shifted—Mattie became the new target.
Hateful letters were left at her door and dropped in her mail slot. Several of the tenants refused to speak to her. Some threw malevolent looks and cruel remarks. Some even took aim at Meryl. One day while approaching the apartment building, Meryl was pelted with raw eggs from an unseen foe who also threw accusations—calling her a Jap lover.
“It makes me so angry,” Meryl said. “How can people be so utterly dim-witted and cruel?” She measured out sugar for a batch of cookies and dumped it in a bowl.
“I thought we were going to conserve the sugar,” Mattie said. “We don't get much.”
“Yes, I know. But I've just got to have some sugar cookies. I've been craving them.” She smiled. “When I was little and upset, Cook would make sugar cookies. They always helped.” She cracked an egg and dropped it into the bowl, then tossed the shell into the sink. “All of this is very distressing,” she said as she stirred. “I just don't understand.”
Mattie leaned her elbows on the kitchen table. “Maybe we should move.”
“No. Never.”
“I'm afraid something awful is going to happen. I don't know why people think I'm Japanese.”
“They're just looking for someone to take out their frustrations on. And your features are kind of oriental, plus you've got black hair and brown eyes. It makes you an easy target.” She added flour to the mixture in the bowl. “I'm sure all this will pass. We just have to wait it out.”
Steps sounded in the hallway, then an envelope was slipped underneath the door. Holding her body stiffly, Mattie stood, staring at it as if it were a snake ready to strike.
Meryl wiped her hands on her apron. “Seems to me people could have the decency to deliver mail in the standard fashion,” she said matter-of-factly and walked briskly across the room. She jerked open the door and stepped into the hallway. After looking up and down the corridor, she walked back inside and closed the door soundly. “The nerve.” She bent and picked up the envelope. Sliding a well-manicured fingernail under the fold, she scanned the contents. Her mouth formed a hard line, and her eyes narrowed. “Hmm. Some people are very small.”
“What does it say?”
“Nothing important. I'll just throw it in the trash.” She crossed to the kitchen sink.
“What did it say?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me see.” Mattie grabbed the letter. Her hand trembled as she read. This one was the worst. Her mouth went dry. After hurling grotesque threats, the author promised that Mattie would be turned over to the authorities and shipped to an internment camp.
“It's all just a bunch of nonsense,” Meryl said. “No one will touch you, and you won't be sent away. If government agents do try to arrest you, all you have to do is show them your identification.”
Mattie wanted to believe her, but fear strangled her confidence.
Meryl grabbed the letter, tore it in half, and threw it into the trash. “It's nothing but rubbish. Don't listen to a word of it.”
Mattie bit a quivering lip and closed her eyes. Tears leaked onto her cheeks. “I left Alaska to get away from this.” She wiped her eyes. “Now I'm hated for being something I'm not.”
Meryl crossed the room and hugged Mattie. “Everything will be all right. They can't do anything to you. This all will pass.”
“I wish that were true,” Mattie sniffled.
Meryl gave her an extra squeeze and returned to her baking. She spooned batter onto a cookie sheet. “Why don't you just tell them you're native Alaskan?” She brushed a stray curl off her face.
“That won't help. They'll just hate me for being an Indian.” Mattie stood and walked to the closet. “I'm going down to the drugstore to call my mother.”
Meryl slid the cookies into the oven. “Wait until tomorrow. It's dark out. You shouldn't be wandering around at night, especially with things the way they are.”
“I'm tired of hiding, and I need to call home.” Mattie could feel the tears again. She longed for family. Since arriving in Seattle, this was the first time she was truly homesick.
“At least wait until this batch of cookies is done, and I'll go with you.”
“No. I've got to face things on my own. I can't hide behind you.”
“Mattie. Please.”
Mattie headed for the door. “I'll be fine. There are plenty of streetlights along the way, and the store is only a block and a half away.”
City lights shimmered in puddles, and cars sprinted past, spraying water onto the sidewalk and onto Mattie. She moved away from the street, walking quickly. Doing her best to look confident, she held her shoulders back and her chin up, but her eyes darted to every dark corner and behind each parked car. A cold wind tugged at her coat.
Buoyed by the lights of the drugstore, she relaxed slightly and stepped inside. Nodding at the man behind the counter, she walked to the phone booth, heels clicking on newly washed tiles. She dug in her change purse, took out a nickel, and dropped it into the telephone. It chimed as it fell into place.
