HISTORICAL FICTION By Michael G. Malaghan
“Otösan, Coach Williams wants me to try out for the baseball team,” said Takeshi to his father. Haru heard the strain in his voice, even though he tried to sound casually enthusiastic. “He thinks I could be the starting first baseman for McKinley,” Takeshi added.
The Sunday brunch table quieted until only the sound of a passing horse-drawn carriage crunching the crushed seashell road outside their home could be heard. The aroma of bacon, pancakes and maple syrup hung unnoticed in the air. Tommy and Yoshi knew what was happening. So did pinched-faced Haru. Even though 4-year-old Kenta had no clue, he picked up on the silence.