Chapter 45
Aya
Of course Noah Kato thought he could just show up at the museum, expecting a tour. Aya pulled her hair back, walking briskly to the door to let him in.
“My dad told me what happened,” he said without preamble. “I w-wanted to come and see the museum. And there was something I wanted to ask you about too. I feel b-bad for missing the Pilgrimage this year.”
“If you wanted to come, you shouldn’t have scheduled a festival that’s going to take place at the exact same time.”
He nodded vigorously. “I know. I’m terrible at scheduling. Justin was just telling me that.”
She frowned. “Nobu’s fiancé? Is he here?”
“Yes,” he said then he started speaking quickly. “And he told me I should take you to their engagement party tomorrow afternoon. I mean, if you want to come. As my date. You don’t have to. But Justin asked, so I mean, I guess I need to tell him?”
A little bubble of happiness welling up inside Aya. She tried to stop it, of course, telling herself she wasn’t even really being invited by Noah. She was being asked by Justin. And probably just because he felt sorry for Noah. But Aya had always liked Nobu, and she missed the Kato family.
“Of course,” she said. “Tell them I’ll be there.”
She looked around the museum. Beyond the entrance, one large gallery was open to the public. The archives were in a separate room, and there was a reading room too.
Her back became straighter. In spite of the lack of finances, she was proud of her work at the museum. And Noah deserved to see just what he had neglected when he let stardom go to his head.
“We can start with the gallery,” Aya said. “We have one of our best exhibitions out. We were really lucky to get this in time for the Pilgrimage.”
The exhibit was fantastic. Noah said he had expected the museum to have just one set of material on display all the time.
Aya shook her head. “It’s dynamic,” she explained.
“As the director, I really wanted to focus on collaborating with other institutions. So we loaned a bunch of things to the Civil Rights Museum for one of their displays, and they gave us these artifacts. We shared a lot of designs beforehand, of course, so we could make it fit together.”
As Noah walked around, examining the exhibit, he whistled. “This is amazing. I’ve n-never seen something like this before.”
Aya didn’t explain the background of the exhibit, though she wondered if he might be able to guess.
Thanks to Carl, the town’s resident antimuseum crusader, there had been a lot of accusations that they were “playing up” a rare, ugly facet of American life during the Second World War.
Apparently, everything else was fine and dandy, and any individual who didn’t land in an internment camp was either fighting Hitler in Europe or living a full, happy life.
Aya had designed and gotten funding for an exhibit showing what life was life in Memphis and Love Hollow during one particular year, 1943.
Alongside pictures of Japanese American families with suitcases and strained expressions, there were Whites Only signs on lunch counters and news articles about lynchings.
Young men of every color were dying in Europe then coming home to a violent, segregated society.
Of course, Carl would never get near the exhibit. He was a person who would probably say that the centuries-long suffering of any group of people was not a big deal.
Aya tried to forget about Carl for a moment. “I’m glad you like it,” she said, sighing. “It might be our last exhibit for a while. Or maybe ever.”
One donation from Noah could change the entire course of the museum. All they really needed was a small one. Okay, maybe two hundred thousand dollars, enough to fund part of the renovations and pay one staff member.
And Aya wasn’t willing to admit that the donation controlled something else too.
It controlled her life. If the museum were funded, she would be able to leave, carrying only her guilt with her.
She could go finish her PhD without worrying that the place would crumble, even if she would still feel bad for not finishing everything she’d meant to do.
At the moment, as hard as she was working, she wasn’t going to have much of a choice.
She couldn’t just let the museum sit unattended for a year, not allowing visitors.
It would mean the death of the only institution in Love Hollow interested in preserving the town’s history.
Noah sighed. “I’m sorry it’s been such a tough time.”
Aya tried to shove down her disappointment. “It hasn’t been that tough. I mean, our grandparents were in an internment camp when they were younger than we are now. And I’m reminded of that every day.”
“They wouldn’t have wanted to see this happening, though.”
“I’m glad they didn’t,” Aya snapped. “If some of these people in Love Hollow had to answer to folks who were actually here, they might think about it all differently.”
“Some of the people coming for the Pilgrimage were interned here, right?”
She nodded. “Sure. But the last thing I want to do to the nonagenarians is force them to confront our local dickheads. No need to add any new trauma.”
After an uncomfortable silence, she beckoned to Noah. “Come on. Let’s go to the reading room. At least it has a good view.”
The landscape would have been desolate, but the temporary employees were buzzing around the festival grounds.
It was the first sound check, so a random group of people were singing into microphones, banging on drum sets, and playing electric guitars.
They were really good, actually. Music festivals always seemed to attract offbeat people who were talented musicians, so Aya wasn’t shocked.
“Aya,” Noah said, turning away from the window. “I don’t know how to fix this. But it’s not because I don’t care about you.”
“How am I supposed to know that?” she asked, another tear streaking down her cheek. She held her head up, but the tears kept coming down, whether she wanted them to or not.
“Trust me,” he said and kissed her.
Aya did not feel her body melt. She was still angry. Furious, in fact.
But she couldn’t keep herself from kissing Noah back. It wasn’t a contradiction, not exactly. Just something that she couldn’t help doing.
The music had stopped, thank God.