Mattie tried to speak but only managed a squeak.
“Shut up!” His breath was labored. “You're not wanted here. Leave, or you'll wish you had.” He chuckled. “An internment camp or a grave is the only place Japs belong.” He chuckled, and the laugh rattled in his throat.
Mattie tried to turn so she could see his face.
“You don't want to do that.” He squeezed her neck harder. “Do as I say.” He twisted her arm back more, sending a shooting pain into her shoulder, then unexpectedly shoved her to the ground and ran, disappearing around a corner.
Shaking with fear and rage, Mattie pushed to her feet. Life was supposed to be better here. Wasn't there any place that was safe?
Mattie stared at the spot she'd last seen the man, then shouted at the empty street. “I'm not leaving! I'm not!”
Chapter 17
DAYS PASSED AND WHOEVER WAYLAID MATTIE DIDN'T REAPPEAR. THE threatening notes and personal bullying decreased, and it seemed that people had lost interest.
Still, Mattie never went out without watching for the man who had attacked her. Occasionally she would see someone wearing a trench coat similar to the one her assailant had worn, and she'd wonder if it might be him. Finally she resolved she'd never know who had come at her out of the dark and decided it was time to put her fears behind her. Life needed to return to normal. Mattie did her best to go about daily activities as if nothing had ever happened.
On a Saturday morning, two weeks after the attack, Mattie and Meryl sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee, nibbling on buttered toast, and reading the morning newspaper. A knock reverberated at the door.
“Now, who could that be?” Meryl asked, sounding bored. Two more sharp raps sounded. She folded the paper and headed for the door. Before she reached it, the knocking resumed. “I'm coming,” she said irritably, yanking open the door.
Two policemen, straight-backed and stiff, stood in the hallway. One was tall and looked to be in his early thirties. The other was short and much older. His stomach pressed against a blue shirt and drooped over his belt. “I'm Officer Hewitt, and this is Officer Decker.” He nodded at his younger partner. “We're looking for a Mattie Lawson.”
Meryl didn't reply.
“Is she here?” The officer peered through heavy glasses resting on a bulbous nose.
Mattie's heart raced in her chest. Why would the police want to talk to her?
Resting a hand on one hip, Meryl asked, “And may I know why you wish to speak to her?”
“We have some questions for Miss Lawson,” Decker said.
“I'm Mattie Lawson.” She joined Meryl at the door and pressed her hand against her stomach, hoping to quiet its flip-flopping.
Both men eyed her closely. “You'll need to come with us,” Officer Hewitt said.
“Go with you where? Why?”
“We need you to come to the station and answer some questions.”
“But I haven't done anything,” Mattie said, panic mounting.
“We'll wait while you dress,” Hewitt said resolutely, then rocked back on his heels.
Unable to believe what was happening, Mattie stared at the men. “Can't you tell me what this is about?”
His voice prickly, Officer Decker said, “All that will be answered at the station. And we don't have all day.”
She had no choice. “I'll come with you; just give me a few minutes.” Mattie retreated to her room, and with shaking hands, removed her bathrobe and pajamas, then dressed quickly.
“Mattie,” Meryl said, rapping softly on her door. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.”
Meryl walked into the room, dressed and coiffed. “I'm going with you. Those two aren't going to cart off my best friend, especially when we don't even know why.”
Mattie felt like hugging Meryl. “What's happening?” she asked, her voice quaking. “Why would they want me? Do you think this has anything to do with the threats I've been getting about being Japanese?”
“Maybe.” She studied her friend. “You don't really look Japanese. Either way, we'll get this straightened out.” She hugged Mattie. “Try not to worry. I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding.”
Pulling a brush through her hair, Mattie stopped and gazed at herself in the mirror. Could she be mistaken for someone of Japanese ancestry? No, she decided, then reluctantly returned to the front room and the waiting police officers.
Meryl laid a protective arm around Mattie's shoulders. “Why does she have to go with you? Can't you ask your questions here?”
“Standard procedure, ma'am.” Officer Hewitt pushed up his glasses. “We've had reports that she's Japanese, and we can't take chances. All Japanese citizens have been moved to relocation camps, and for good reason. We've got to be careful about spies. They've been found all along the coast.” He shifted his gaze to Mattie. “Why didn't you register?”
“I'm not Japanese.”
Both officers scrutinized Mattie. Hewitt seemed to be in charge. “You look like a Jap.”
“She does not,” Meryl said. “Don't you know what a Japanese person looks like?”
“I'm Alaska native. That's why my hair and eyes are dark.”
“Your eyes look kind of slanted to me.”
“I'm not Japanese!”
