62 pages • 2 hours read
Andrew FukudaA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Alex writes to Frank again on January 19, 1945, even though Frank still has not written back. Alex’s battalion has been detached from the 442nd and they are somewhere in the French Alps. Alex has only noted down the names of the towns they passed through so that he may tell Charlie later. He describes the difficult journey up the mountain, during which Alex spots a German railway gun on the opposite mountain and thus enables the artillery unit to destroy it. Their captain gives them leave to go to Nice, where Charlie’s family used to vacation in the summer. Alex asks Frank to go through Charlie’s letters and find the return address from her letters sent on vacation. Alex finishes the letter without bothering to censor anything, knowing the Army will do that for him. He wonders why Frank hasn’t written in all these years.
Frank finally writes to Alex in a letter dated February 22, 1945, and apologizes for not writing back for so long. Mr. Maki has finally been brought to Manzanar, and Frank knows it is because of Alex’s influence. Nursing Mr. Maki back to health has given Mrs. Maki a new lease on life. Frank calls Alex a hero and explains that he has not written until now because he was ashamed of himself. He is proud of Alex and looks up to him now. He includes Charlie’s old Nic address in a postscript.
In another postscript, Frank says that he found the same news article about Jews being sent to extermination camps that Alex read before enlisting. He now understands Alex’s reasons for enlisting in the army, and he hopes that Alex finds what he is looking for.
On leave in Nice, Alex searches for Monsieur Shäfer. With difficulty, and using context clues from Charlie’s letters, Alex finds the right place, although Shäfer is reluctant to speak with him at first.
Shäfer eventually invites Alex inside. Alex sees an old photograph of Shäfer and Mr. Lévy together when they were younger, and Shäfer explains that after the roundup at the Velodrome, Charlie was taken to Auschwitz, and although Shäfer used his connections to try to rescue her, he was only able to get her onto a train, which turned out to be going to Dachau. He does not know what happened to Charlie after that; he thinks she is dead. Shäfer deeply regrets not trying harder to convince Mr. Lévy to flee to Nice. Alex tries to reassure him. His gut tells him that Charlie is still alive.
Before Alex leaves, Shäfer gives him the final letter that Charlie was writing when the police took her away. He tells Alex that his letters were a joy in Charlie’s life, especially toward the end. Shäfer also passes along one last message from Charlie to Alex, saying that Charlie wanted Alex to know that she is, “still the leaping frog” (344). Alex’s eyes tear up.
Charlie’s final letter was written on the 93rd day of being in hiding. She writes that she feels like a ghost, and that the only thing maintaining her mental health is thinking about a possible future with Alex. Even though Paris betrayed her, she still loves it. She describes all of the places she wants to take Alex. The letter ends abruptly.
Defeat hangs in the air in Germany, and Alex feels defeated as well. Alex and Company C leave the 442nd and head into Bavaria. In their jeep, Clay Ohtani and Chuck Yamazaki joke about what they will do to Hitler if they find him. As they drive, they come upon piles of human corpses buried under snow. Eventually, they stumble upon Dachau concentration camp and approach it, even though it is off their route. The camp is unguarded and is populated only by the suffering, emaciated prisoners. Alex and the other soldiers are horrified. Alex ignores orders and shoots the lock off the gate.
They walk through the camp, staring in horror at what the Germans have done. The soldiers distribute what minimal supplies they have, waiting for backup from the army. Outside the camp, Alex sees a group of prisoners beginning to devour a dead horse, cutting it up with rocks. Alex radios headquarters: “Send help. Send lots of food. Send lots of clothes. Send med teams. Good God. Send everything” (355).
Army trucks bring supplies six hours later, but they soon learn that they cannot feed the prisoners; their starvation is so far advanced that gorging themselves on food at this point might actually kill them. Against the soldier’s wishes, they take the food away, and Alex searches in vain for Charlie. That night, Alex gets the same feeling in his chest as the other times Charlie appeared to him, but it is more intense than ever. He scuffles with a fellow soldier to take his motorcycle, and he rides off into the freezing night.
The motorcycle runs out of gas. Alex is sure Charlie is nearby, but when he looks around, he only finds frozen corpses, including one of a young Jewish boy hunkered down by a tree. He tries in vain to dig a hole to give the boy a proper burial and finally drapes his jacket over the boy and heads back to camp. The portrait of Charlie remains in the pocket of the jacket, there in the silence and the snow.
Alex writes to Frank that he is being discharged and will be back home on Bainbridge Island in a few short weeks. First, however, he is going to Paris. He does not think that Charlie is still alive, but he wants to fulfill a promise that he made to her.
Alex is astonished that Paris closely matches what he imagined from Charlie’s letters. He manages to find Charlie’s apartment building. The concierge barely looks at him when he enters, and he takes the elevator up to her floor. He rings the doorbell. Another concierge answers, and she is shocked to recognize him as Alex Maki. Alex enters the apartment, looking for signs of Charlie. In the back of a picture frame, he finds a picture of Charlie’s family, and he sees Charlie’s face for the first time. She looks exactly as he imagined her.
With difficulty, the concierge explains to Alex that she does not know what happened to the family after the Velodrome roundup. Alex wants to tell her how urgent it is for him to find Charlie, but he does not know how to say it in French. Finally, she delivers the devastating news that Charlie is dead, and the world crashes down around Alex. He gets up to leave, but the concierge leads him to Charlie’s room. Even though German soldiers have used the apartment since Charlie’s family was taken away, her room has been sealed off to save on heating costs and it now stands as a time capsule of Charlie’s last days in Paris. Alex is amazed to see that she has kept each and every one of the drawings he has sent her throughout the years. Collapsing at her desk, the weight of her loss and what it means crushes him. He puts his head down on the desk where she wrote her letters and cries.
Back in America, Alex discovers that he has become something he never thought he would: a war hero. The heroic exploits of the 442nd regiment are well known throughout the country, though he still experiences racism when he returns.
In the same place where he departed with his family all those years ago, he is greeted by his dog, Hero, old but still alive. He sees Frank leaning against a pole, and the two brothers greet each other. Their handshake turns into a tight embrace.
Several years later, Alex visits the beach at night. Stepping into the freezing water, he floats a paper lantern constructed with the pages of his latest comic book. He lights it and sends it out to sea. Even after all these years, Alex imagines Charlie finding it by the banks of the Seine.
In Part 4, the rift between Alex and Frank comes to the fore as an unresolved conflict that will finally be allowed to heal. During his time in the army, Alex is hurt by Frank’s continued silence, demonstrating the devastating human truth that when two people cut off communications with each other, they are left to fill the resulting silence with a conversation of their own imagining, often misapprehending the true reasons for the other’s continued silence and further damaging the possibility of reconciliation. This dynamic is clear as Frank’s last angry prediction that his brother would die on the battlefield haunts Alex on the front lines, and it is not until the fighting begins to die down that Frank finally responds to Alex and reveals that his silence was not due to anger at his brother’s enlistment, but rather to his own shame for failing to enlist as well. Having long been an embodiment of the role of “hero,” the star of the hometown football team and the one everyone counts on and looks up to, Frank allowed his cognitive dissonance over his own shame to keep him from contacting his brother when Alex need him most. Thus, the reversal is complete, for just as Alex looked up to Frank as his childhood hero, Frank now looks up to Alex, writing, “I’m just so proud, man. At who you’ve become. At what you’ve done. We’ve all heard about the heroics of the 442nd […] I look up to you, you little goober. We all do. You’ve done us proud” (333). He also finally validates Alex’s decision to enlist and confesses that he now understands that Charlie was a key motivating factor in the decision, telling his brother, “you’ve always had your head in the clouds. But that ain’t such a bad place to be when your heart’s in the right place” (334), and this touching and vulnerable gesture of reconciliation is only strengthened when Alex finally comes full circle to find Frank waiting for him on the dock back on Bainbridge Island. In an emotionally charged description that brings the entire story to a definitive conclusion, the author makes it clear that despite Frank’s anger with his country, he still symbolizes America at its best, for when the brothers embrace, Frank’s sweater smells “of open fields, of sunlight, of strawberries, of the raw musky earth […] And of America, always America” (373).
Like many of the victims of the Holocaust, Charlie’s fate is unknown and undocumented, and thus the author’s decision to leave readers with little closure to her story is a deliberate one that is designed to echo the pain of the unknown that many Holocaust survivors endured: the agony of never truly knowing what happened to the ones they loved and lost. Thus, Charlie’s final letter to Alex serves almost as a eulogy for the life she will never get to lead, and the letter itself ends in midsentence, forcing Alex to confront “the blank rest of the page, the sheer shock of white, the violent, vulgar emptiness of it. A decisive snip, a string cut, Charlie vanished” (347). By visiting her former home, Alex can truly recognize the weight of her physical existence—but he experiences this in negation, in the things that she will no longer be able to do, the things that they will never be able to do together. Alex “thinks of that café in Paris where they will never drink coffee together, that empty table set for two, those two empty chairs, the conversations they will never share, the moments they will never remember for the rest of their lives” (370). Only then does he allow himself to cry.
Although the short Epilogue of This Light Between Us provides a brief glimpse into Alex’s future, Fukuda is purposely ambiguous with how much time has passed since Alex returned from the war; the subtitle of the Epilogue is merely “Years Later.” The paper lantern that Alex constructs and sends out to sea serves as a small memorial for Charlie, and recalls the scene from one of her earlier letters, in which she dared to sneak out of hiding and float a paper lantern down the Seine, thinking of Alex. This is Alex’s way of remaining connected with Charlie and honoring her long after her death—his way of keeping her memory and the light that connects them alive.
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