Love at Broadway High
Does this work as the opening chapter for my historical fiction novel? Based on a true story of my relatives.
13-minute narrated version:
1936 Seattle
“Girlfriend, don’t be such a patsy. It’s obvious Max likes you!” Vera’s gutsy Hakujin friend always knew how to make Vera feel better.
While many Japanese classmates would have cautioned Vera, Stick to your own kind, Helen made her feel as good as any of the girls at Broadway High. Ever since Vera first met the blond-haired girl so long ago in pre-school, she relied on Helen to boost her confidence.
It was thrilling to know that such a cool, good-looking boy like Max liked her, a nerdy Honor Roll senior. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through Vera’s mind. Wouldn’t it be grand to have a real boyfriend before I graduate Broadway? But he’s Hakujin. He’s a junior. And I’m Japanese. What’re people going to say?
But Max wasn’t the kind of boy who seemed to care what anyone thought. At Movie Club he raised a few eyebrows when he said, “It’s not right Americans point fingers at the Japanese in China. Americans are hypocrites! The politicians crow all about human rights in China while negroes right here in this country are treated like garbage.”
Mr. Smith tugged his tie nervously and interrupted Max with a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Last time I checked this is Movie Club, Max, not Politics Club.”
“But in a democracy, aren’t we supposed to speak up?” said Max, his blue eyes blazing with fury.
Mr. Smith smiled. “You’re right, Max. But choose your battles. Outside of high school, people might not be as open-minded.”
Vera laughed along with everyone else but felt flattered Max was willing to stick his neck out for Japan. A country she left when she was only one. She smiled her appreciation to Max.
After Movie Club finished, Max lingered to help Vera clean up. As the two of them wiped down the chalkboard, he suddenly leaned down and said, “Let’s meet at Pike Market this weekend. I wanna show you something,”
Vera was thrilled, but then she whispered, “Don’t tell anyone about this.”
She wasn’t sure what made her say that. Was it the fact that she was a little scared of Max? Or was it what Papa and Mama might say? They never said anything about boyfriends, but she couldn’t imagine Papa welcoming any boy, Japanese or Hakujin, who was interested in her.
After Helen encouraged her, Vera thought, I’ll tell George. Her best Japanese friend at Broadway. From the first time she met George in B.F. Day School, she admired him like the big brother she never had. Unlike at Broadway, they were the only non-white kids at B.F. Day and many people thought they were related even though they looked nothing alike. Mama and Papa didn’t know George’s parents but Vera admired George.
He had the confidence she wished she had. In fact, for a short while in junior high, she had a secret crush on George. He had shot up in height and was well-liked by the white kids and the teachers. At Broadway High, she watched George become a popular basketball player with a knack for public speaking and performance. And now, George was dating a cute Italian brunette, Connie.
All the kids knew about the couple but didn’t talk about it since some parents didn’t approve of mixed dating. A particularly vocal group of parents even convinced the administrators to only allow white kids to attend the Senior Ball, even though the principal pointed out the fact that the Valedictorian this year was Japanese. But George would understand. He’d know what to tell me.
The next day Vera found George waiting for Connie in the senior parking lot, and decided to tell him about Max. George said, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go out with Max.”
“Don’t be so judgmental,” Vera said, hurt. “You’re going out with Connie.”
“I love Connie. And you don’t know about what her family went through to get here,” said George.
“What are you talking about?”
“Vera, there’s awful stuff going on in Europe. Connie’s family had to leave their hometown because of the Fascists.”
“So are you saying Max hasn’t suffered enough?” said Vera. “Because he’s Hakujin?”
George looked pained. “Max has a different kind of suffering. He’s got white man’s guilt.”
What the heck is White Man’s Guilt? “He hasn’t done anything wrong,” hissed Vera. “In fact, he’s always sticking his neck out for other people.”
“I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, Vera. He’s just confused.”
“Well, I thought you of all people would back me up,” said Vera.
The old friends glared at each other. George broke the uncomfortable silence. “Your eyes have to be wide open when you date Hakujin. I know a lot of folks aren’t happy with me with Connie. But we really like each other. We really understand each other. I think Max wants you for the wrong reason.”
“I suppose you know everything, Sensei. So what’s wrong with Max?” snapped Vera.
“I don’t want to get into it here…,” George looked to see if anyone would overhear. “I heard Max transferred to Broadway after he got kicked out of prep school out East.”
Tears stung Vera’s eyes. “No. That’s not true.”
George’s eyes warned Vera to end the conversation.
Connie approached and said in her musical Italian accented voice, “Hey, Vera. Good to see you.” Vera felt jealousy burn her cheeks when they kissed each other.
But Vera escaped before Connie could ask what was wrong. As she rushed away, Vera wiped the tears from her face.
Well, George can’t stop me. Anyway, we’ll all graduate and scatter soon. Maybe Max would just be a high school thing.
The days until the weekend seemed to crawl by. At Movie Club, Vera avoided looking at Max and sat by Helen and Susie. When the club members discussed films with German directors and actors, Max suddenly said, “I saw Shanghai Express. Marlene Dietrich was all right but Anna May Wong was super.”
Grace blushed furiously at the mention of that Asian actress. Did Max think she was like Anna May Wong? Sexy. Chic, Helen nudged her and winked. Then Susie said, “What’s so great about Anna May Wong?”
Helen shoved Susie and glared at her. Susie gave Helen a “what did I do wrong?” look.
* * *
That Sunday afternoon, the clouds hung low but thankfully the rain had let up. Vera met Max in front of the Virginia Inn restaurant on the corner of Virginia and 1st.
“Can I hold your hand?” he said.
“No,” she said and she wrapped her arms tightly around her pocketbook.
Max laughed. She softened and said, “Look, I’m sorry, Max. I’m new at this.”
“That’s okay. You’re smarter than me, but maybe not about everything,” he smiled.
They started walking over to the market, Vera stiff with nervousness while Max put his hands in his pockets and slowed his gait to keep pace with Grace.
Suddenly she noticed how many Japanese farmers were in their stalls at the market. Do any of them recognize me? Maybe one of them remembers me and Papa from our trips to the Furuya House on Bainbridge Island. Oh, God. What if someone says something to someone who knows Papa? “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” said Vera as she stopped and turned back.
“What? Why’re you so worried?” said Max. “No one cares.”
Vera glared up at Max. “You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”
“No, I don’t. But that’s why I like you,” he said. “You’re not like the other girls.”
Vera thought, why am I so afraid of Max? He’s just a boy.
Max suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled, “Come on. I want to show you something really neat.”
Vera laughed. His legs were so much longer than hers, she had to run to keep up. He led the way down a wet narrow cobbled street into a penny arcade. The shop was crowded with kids, all too busy playing with the coin-operated machines to notice a Japanese girl like her. She had never been here. Smells of tobacco, sweat and gum. Noisy bells and laughter filled her senses as Max led her deeper into the den.
One boy with slicked back hair whistled at her. “Mighty fine looker,” he said and grinned with a missing tooth. She noticed a few Asian faces in the arcade. Filipinos? Chinese? No one from Broadway High, I hope.
Vera flushed with excitement. No boy had ever looked at her with lust, much less whistled at her.
Max stopped. “Here. This is my favorite - Princess Doraldina,”
Vera found herself in front of a large wooden fortune-telling machine with glass windows. Seated behind the glass was the life-sized wooden bust of a gypsy - beautiful dark hair wrapped in a purple head scarf and large hoop earrings glittering from her ears. One carved hand was on a crystal ball while the other was raised above a set of tarot cards spread out on the table before her.
Max put a nickel in the copper slot, and suddenly the gypsy came to life. The machine whirred, the crystal ball lit up, and the gypsy’s head moved. Vera gasped, “Oh my God, she looks alive!”
The gypsy waved her hand over the cards and even her jeweled chest moved with every breath as if she were listening to the spirits. She stopped at one card. Then a pink card appeared in the slot below. Max said, “Let’s see what she says about me this time.” He picked up the card and read, “You are a hummingbird destined to enjoy the nectar of many blossoms.”
Max turned to Vera and smiled, “Are you a blossom?”
Vera felt her cheeks redden. Then Max gave Vera a nickel and said, “Here. Let’s see what Doraldina predicts for you.”
Vera put the nickel in and watched the Princess come to life again. Then in the slot below, her pink card appeared. Her hand shook as she read, “When the desert moon is full, love will appear.”
Max laughed, “Well, there’s no desert moon around here, so you’re out of luck.” Vera slipped the card into her pocketbook. I’m going to remember this forever.
“Max Thomas, all this time, I didn’t realize what a smooth talker you are,” said Vera. It was true. There was a lot more to this boy than she suspected.