When the Cherry Blossoms Fell Read Online Free Page A

blanket.
    They sat quietly as the soft early evening breeze caressed their faces. A few petals floated onto the blanket. Hiro yawned. The breeze grew stronger. Suddenly they were in the midst of a flurry of white blossoms.
    â€œ
Sakura fubuki
,” Geechan announced. He held his hands out to let the petals slip through his fingers.
    â€œThat’s right,” her mother said, “a cherry blossom snowstorm.”
    â€œLooks like I can still bring down the house,” Aunt Sadie bragged.
    Everyone laughed. To Michiko, it seemed as if the cherry tree were laughing too. Her only wish was that her father had been there with them.

Four
The Locomotive
    Michiko felt like an overstuffed sausage. Sadie had insisted she wear as much of her clothing as possible to save space in their luggage. First, she put on her sleeveless sundress with the large pockets. Over it she wore a green plaid dress with puffy sleeves. Then she buttoned her long sleeved white cotton blouse over the top and stepped into her new navy wool skirt. When her arms went into the sleeves of her brown hooded coat, the shoulders bunched. She carried her blue straw hat with the white daisy by its elastic string.
    The great black locomotive hissed and groaned as the stack churned out white smoke.
    Eiko lifted the two cases at her side and moved towards the car in front on them. Michiko gripped her aunt’s heavy paisley carpetbag and followed.
    The conductor, the angular cheekbones of his face showing through his pale white skin, stepped down. His eyes narrowed as Michiko and her mother approached. He shook his head and held up his hand. With the other, he pointed down the track.
    They walked past a few cars and stopped again. Thesame thing happened. Each time they tried to board the train, someone moved them along.
    Her mother gave out a long sigh. She glanced back at Geechan in his best black suit and tie, wearing his bowler hat. He could not walk fast, having insisted on carrying the large
furoshiki
. The great square cloth held their bedding. There was a brand new quilt inside, one Michiko’s mother had worked on diligently since her father had left.
    â€œIs something the matter with our tickets?” Michiko asked. Her mother gave her a tired look and didn’t answer.
    Finally, they found their train. It sat back from the others, off to one side. The rusty, peeling, old engine towed only four cars. Three were passenger cars. The last car looked like a large wooden wagon. It was for the baggage.
    Only Japanese people were aboard, all sitting up straight, staring ahead.
    Michiko stepped over the railway ties onto the black oil-stained gravel. She tiptoed to keep her shiny black patent shoes clean.
    They mounted the stained wooden steps, just as the train’s big iron wheels spun in place. It shrieked, puffed a billow of steam and jerked forward. Michiko stumbled and banged her knee. Someone caught her by the elbow and steadied her. Several people shuffled seats to let them all sit together. Michiko plopped down hard on one of the wooden benches just as the train moved forward.
    â€œWhere are we going?” Michiko asked for the third time that day. This was a very strange way to travel.Usually they went on vacation in their father’s car.
    Eiko undid the pearl buttons of her pink wool jacket and took Hiro onto her lap. “To the country,” she said. She busied herself arranging Hiro. His hand reached for the grey grosgrain band of his mother’s felt hat. She tucked one of his hands beneath her arm. The other she put under the blue satin trim of his blanket. “We will be near the mountains,” she added.
    â€œFather’s mountains?” asked Michiko hopefully.
    â€œHe’s in a different part of the Rockies,” was the response.
    â€œWhy are we going away?” Michiko asked.
    â€œThe city is too crowded,” her mother said quietly. “We will be vacationing in a farmhouse. The fresh air will