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her mother came outside. Hiro stretched out his fat little hands. Michiko removed the apron and took him in her arms.
    From her pocket, Michiko’s mother brought out a handful of wooden pegs. They reminded Michiko of tiny people without arms. Her mother pegged the diapers to the line.
    â€œYou keep Hiro entertained,” she mumbled past the peg in her mouth. “I’ll finish the washing.”
    Michiko shifted her little brother to her hip and looked down into his chocolate brown eyes. “Well, Prince Hiro,” she cooed, “when will your royal baby carriage finally arrive?”
    Hiro grinned and gurgled.
    Michiko sidestepped the path that led to the small grey hut. The smell of lye and lime and the wooden bench with the round hole disgusted her. Last night was the first time she had ever used an outhouse. For once, Michiko wished she could wear diapers too.
    She made her way down the rutted road, shifting her brother from one hip to the other. The weathered building at the bottom of the road reminded her of a barn, even though it wasn’t barn-like in shape.
    Across the front of the building, the ghostly outline of two pink circles rested on a bed of pale green leaves. Scrawled across the front, the faint peeling letters spelled out the word “Apples”. A row of small square-paned windows, several panes broken, ran beneath. Short stubby planks covered some of the windows haphazardly. Skeletons of vines rattled against the flaking patches of grey wood.
    The two large-planked doors stood ajar. Michiko gave one of them a push. It swung open with a creak, and she stepped into the shadowy space.
    â€œOoh,” Hiro cooed. His eyes widened.
    Once her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, Michiko could see long wooden benches against the walls. Broken wooden crates lay about an earth floor strewn with sawdust.
    Michiko sniffed. She recognized the aroma.
Apples
, she thought,
I can smell the apples
.
    The rays of sun streaming over her head rested on a new wall of yellow plywood. The sudden sound of several hammers pounding together startled her. Thenthe hammering stopped. Uncle Ted appeared from behind the wall.
    â€œWell, well, well,” he said, slipping his hammer into his belt. “Look who’s come to visit.” He took Hiro from her arms.
    â€œThanks,” she said. “He’s heavy.” She wiggled her arms about.
    â€œHey, Tadishi,” Ted called out, “come and meet my sister’s kids.”
    The man who stuck his head out from behind the partition was wearing a white bandana with a red circle across his forehead.
    â€œMichiko,” Uncle Ted said, “this is Tadashi.”
    Tadashi, wearing a white undershirt and khaki pants with a rope belt, stepped forward and gave her a slight nod.
    â€œHe used to work with me at the shipyard,” Ted explained. “He arrived from Japan recently,” he explained. Under his breath, he muttered, “Very bad timing.”
    At first, Tadashi appeared to be the same age as Ted, but when he moved into the patch of sunlight, she noticed the shocks of grey hair above paper-thin eyelids that sagged and folded at the corners.
    â€œWhat are you building?” she asked. She peeked around the corner but drew back suddenly. Behind the wall were two small metal bunks. The same rough grey blankets that she had on her bed were on these. Over one of them was the staring face of the Japanese Emperor Hirohito.
If Sadie saw that
, Michiko thought,
she would rip it down
, but she wasn’t sure why her aunt disliked him so much.
    â€œIs this someone’s home?” She could see the top of a suitcase sticking out from under one of the beds. She had intruded. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
    â€œSort of,” her uncle told her. “We live here, while we turn this place into barracks.”
    â€œBarracks,” Michiko repeated. “What’s that?”
    â€œA home for workers,” Ted