Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 5

 

Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 5

© 2024 by Amber Wright

March 31^st came and went.

A steady stream of bombs hit our island and the air was thickening with smoke.

We were all scared to death.

Will our little hut blow to pieces?

The noise was terrible.

We remained unhurt and were very thankful.

On the evening of March 31^st, 1945 as I was kneeling in our garden and weeding the bean plants, I noticed a strange silence fill the air.

Silence? What’s so strange about that?

Then I had a creepy feeling.

The U. S. Army wasn’t over with us yet. The real action and danger lay just ahead.

But for now I’d enjoy this short, quiet moment of peace while I could.

Today would never come again.

Tomorrow would certainly never be yesterday.

I wiped the back of my hand against my sweaty face and a smile surfaced. This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it.

I continued weeding, and I was glad.

Besides Hwang, we were still all together and that’s what mattered. Let tomorrow bring the battle, I would be ready.

^{· · ·}

Total explosion woke me up in the early hours of April 1^st. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, and kept telling myself this can’t be true!

We were really being invaded!

Now was the day.

Today was going to be the terror of backyard war. God, help us! I begged silently, dressing in the shadowy dark room behind the wooden screen.

I had prayed silently most hours of the eight days that had passed, and today would be no exception.

Why can’t people get along—without killing each other? I frowned in the darkness, fumbling with the buttons of my yellow cotton dress.

Later that morning I saw my first American.

True, I had seen plenty of Americans in my American books, but I had never personally seen an American on these shores of Okinawa.

I was weeding in our garden and had a large white kerchief wrapped around my head that covered my hairline so nobody could tell what color my hair was.

I didn’t want to be stared at—again.

My blue eyes were bad enough to be questioned about. But light blond hair? That was too questionable.

Suddenly, a pair of muddy Army boots stood next to me. “Miss?”

I kept my head down, weeding.

“Are you the woman of the house?” the soldier asked in broken Japanese.

His Japanese accent sounded funny and I stifled a laugh. I glanced up through my eyelashes so he still couldn't see the color of my eyes.

He was young—maybe a couple or so years older than me—and had a machine gun in his hand as he stood there on our bamboo walkway. His hair was dark and damp under his helmet. And his eyes—his eyes were the color of the deepest chocolate.

I gaped stupidly.

“Are you the—”

I shook my head and continued weeding, feeling the sun burn on my head and my heart jumping into my throat.

Stop it, Angel—he's your invader!

“Where is she then?” His boots stepped closer.

I pointed to the multi-roofed house a short space away where Meema was on the porch with frightened eyes but her arms crossed.

I pulled a weed and let it fall to the brown dirt beside me in silence, trying to breathe calmly.

“Is it your custom,” the soldier labored over his Japanese, “not to speak to strangers?”

“Of course not!” I surprised him with my perfect English and blue eyes as I opened my eyes huge in exasperation. “I just don’t want to speak to you.”

I felt my air squeeze up inside me.

Breathe in, breathe out...

“What is it you want, Mister?” Meema came from the porch, asking in English, and the soldier turned his stunned gaze from me to Meema.

“Which is the shortest route to your airport?” the soldier asked in English.

I saw Meema take a deep breath before slowly answering. “I cannot betray my native land, sir.”

“My orders are to take any action necessary to get this information,” the soldier said quietly.

Sharp needles shot up inside me. I let the weeds fall from my hands and cupped my mouth as my air came out in little gasps.

Breathe in, breathe out...

My eyes closed.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and a canteen of water being fed to me. The feeling of needles passed and I opened my eyes again. The young soldier looked concerned.

“Th-thank you,” I stuttered.

“You okay now?” he asked, squatting down on the ground beside me.

I nodded and picked at some weeds again.

“Better still, can somebody show me the short route?” the soldier stood up.

I saw Meema frown thoughtfully and turn her Okinawan eyes onto me, reluctantly.

I stiffened.

No! I won’t betray my native brothers! I won’t, I can’t! What will happen to me afterwards?

“Angel,” Meema said quietly and firmly.

I caught my breath in a mix of anger and sadness, knowing the rest.

“You will go with the man to show him the way.” Meema nodded once to me as if saying “no questions and obey me”.

But still I didn’t want to go. “But, Meema?”

“Any Okinawan blood could not go,” Meema said with a short sigh, “but you will go. You will be excused, not me.”

I nodded with a groan and stood up, wiping my dirty hands on my yellow cotton dress where other muddy spots showed.

I was readjusting my kerchief when my long, thick blond braid fell down my back. I let it hang and simply began walking without another word.

I heard the soldier walk behind me, and I very much resented the fact. Despite his good looks, I was helping our invaders take over our land.

I pushed through a clump of short palm trees, and waited long enough for the soldier to pass his long legs through.

“Thanks,” he smiled.

I nodded.

We crept along under the thick green palm branches and short palm trees.

Crept between clumps of bamboo.

Crept across tiny streams.

Silently, we crept along.

My sharp ears caught the sound of a tread of boots. I ducked us into a tight laced bamboo circle and the soldier held his machine gun ready to shoot.

I saw him aim at a Jap closest to him which was the last man of the single filed group of soldiers.

I squeezed his wrist so hard until it must’ve hurt him for he winced. I silently shook my head with a dark frown. He lowered his gun and the men and their boots died away.

“You kept me from getting my first Jap here!” he hissed, sounding irritated.

“I kept you from getting your Jap’s revenge!” I hissed back at him. “Besides, shooting a man in the back—what a coward!”

“Jap’s revenge? What’s that?”

“Hacked to death by a machete.” I raised my eyebrows and shrugged. “Lucky you, huh?”

I poked my head out cautiously and then continued to lead the way towards the airport.

The soldier was silent all the way there.

So was I.

I saw him make a mental calculation, looking sharply over the area, and then we were on our way back to my home.

As we neared the clearing to my home, the soldier stopped. I looked up at him confused, still half angry with myself for showing him the way.

“Friends?” he held out his hand and smiled. “Name’s Derek Penn. What’s yours?”

“Angel.” I found myself shaking our invader’s hand.