Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 20

 

Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 20

© 2024 by Amber Wright

April 29^th dawned like any other day but in my heart I was crying for today my stepfather Hwang was well enough to be transported to the U.S. prisoner ship.

I watched him at the breakfast table, still weak but managing to sit on the cushion like normal.

I wondered again today, Will this be the last time I’ll hear his voice within these walls?

Prisons were horrible places to live in and was he even strong enough to survive the stuffy, rocking ship to America? Hwang was too good to die, I thought. We all still needed him.

“I shall miss you all, my family.” Hwang spoke to us all in his quiet, gentle voice which soothed me somewhat. “But I am in God’s hands. Don’t worry. I shall be back soon. God knows.”

After breakfast we all joined hands around the table and Hwang prayed simply and short for his breath was still thin and weak. “Our God, Your will be done. Grant us peace. Give us strength. Keep us, always. Forgive us, everyone. And let the beauty of Your love cover us all, dear Jesus. We thank You for all things. Amen.”

I felt a large, unmovable lump in my throat as he finished, and one hot tear slipped across my cheek. I quickly brushed it away but not before I saw Derek from his cot on one elbow staring at me with a thoughtful expression.

I turned my head and found more hot tears rolling from my eyes. What could I do? There was nothing to stop them now. Three of my family were dead so far…would Hwang be next?

God knows…God knows… the words rang over and over in my head as I numbly gave Hwang a hug goodbye, saw nothing but blurry tears, and heard the great conglomeration of sobbing and voices saying goodbye.

The words never came out of my mouth, but somehow I knew Hwang heard my goodbye for he patted my shoulder briskly another time before he left the room to go outside to the waiting U. S. truck.

Once I heard the truck die away I crumpled to the floor, cross-legged and half bent over with more tears, and felt the haunt of a thousand faces of the dead heroes of this war rolling through my mind like a scroll.

We are here still, they seemed to whisper to me in a faint voice. Still…you’ll see…still…here… Yes, I knew their spirits would live on. But, no, Hwang can’t die. Please, God!

I pressed my face into my palms and my very human tears dripped between my fingers.

I felt a hand on my shoulder even through my numbness and heard Derek speak to me in a quiet voice. “Angel, he’ll be back. You gotta believe. Don’t give up. You can’t! Not now.”

He shook my shoulder a little and I finally looked up at him.

“I still believe, Derek.” I whispered for my voice wasn’t exactly clear from crying. “I’m just thinking about everything.”

I dug my face into my palms again and my body shook. I felt the wave of mortal pain strike me, and inside I was as blank as a sheet of drawing paper.

This war had me numb all over, inside out. Its waves of pain gradually let up and I looked up again through blurry eyes, reaching up to grip Derek’s hand in a silent thank you.

Derek was sitting beside me on the floor, his silent presence a pillar of support.

“Thanks, Derek.” I managed to croak out.

“I’ll be there whenever you need me,” he gave my shoulder a tight grasp and let go as I began to wipe away my tears.

^{· · ·}

A week and a bit later, I found myself milking my trio of milk goats. It was hotter than usual and sweat run down my back.

As I reached one hand to give my drippy face a swipe, I heard American voices outside talking in a sort of rush, tensely.

“The Japs are striking back pretty hard.”

At this I almost smiled. The island will be free of war now. Thank heavens! But what would happen to Derek then? You’ll never see him again.

My heart stopped.

And what about the Jap’s revenge on you and your family? I gulped. You harbor U. S. soldiers, you die like U. S. soldiers. The thought sent a chill up my spine.

“Yeah, and they’ve taken Naha.”

I stopped listening or, rather, my ears quit hearing all but a little mumble. A hollow ringing buzzed in my ears as I was streaming out the last of Posy’s milk.

Breathe.

I saw the shed door open to my left and Derek limped in. He hadn’t entirely recuperated yet. I watched him smile and his mouth moving but my ears were still buzzing strangely.

I let Posy loose and she trotted off to the little pen attaching the shed to join Rosy and Dozy.

Then I felt my burning head. Oh great! I moaned inside. An Okinawan fever!

I suppose the strain of everything had taken its toll on me. I looked up again at Derek and gave him a small smile. Then everything turned black and burning hot.

^{· · ·}

For days I drifted in and out of consciousness, burning with the Okinawan fever.

Words juggled through my burning head.

Japanese words.

English words.

Shrill voices.

Kind voices.

And when I was conscious I listened to the stream of words floating endlessly on from both familiar voices and unfamiliar voices.

Still, I slept on, weak, fatigued and running a low to high fever. I rarely got up from my cot and even then I had to helped by someone. Even then I had no conscious of the surroundings.

On the 21^st day of my sickness I woke up to smell the strong, bitter fragrance of my favorite flowers—orange poppies.

I sat up in my cot with an alertness I hadn’t felt in ages, and my eyes fell to my surroundings.

One lone empty cot was a few feet away, and I realized I had been sleeping in Meema’s room the whole time I was sick.

Thank goodness I didn’t spread the fever to the girls! I breathed in relief. Especially to my little Dai.

I got up and dressed in a nice clean grass green collared dress in the room I shared with my sisters. Then I rummaged in the kitchen and finished up some lunch leftovers.

Brother! I glanced out the window to see the sun was high in the afternoon. I’ve slept for ages! What day is it?

I listened to some guys in the yard just outside the kitchen window. “We’ve taken Naha again, and the Orauku Peninsula.”