Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 24

 

Angel of Okinawa; Chapter 24

© 2024 by Amber Wright

A week later, my heart was sick and heavy once again. I heard the dreadful news.

The entire cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan, had been wiped out.

Meema was crying when she told me the news. One of her cousin was studying to be a doctor in the medical school in Nagasaki and was now probably in a pile of ashes.

On August 6^th Hiroshima had been hit by a new bomb called the atomic bomb, and the level land had all but flattened. Now, today August 9^th, more news was just coming on about Nagasaki. The bomb had been larger, they said over radio, but some were actually seen alive in that city.

“I pray she is among the living,” Meema sniffed as we were all gathered in our kitchen with the borrowed radio, listening to the reports on Nagasaki.

I hugged frightened Dai sitting on my lap, sitting on the counter, as I chewed on my thumb knuckle. I hadn’t remembered Meema’s cousin for she left when I was 2 months old, but I was still praying. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance of her survival.

Meema flipped the radio off after a while as we sat there tensely, wide eyed, and listening with both ears until they tingled. I nearly jumped at the following silence, not quite expecting the high pitched voice on the radio to stop his rapid jabbering.

“We have heard enough,” Meema said simply.

I agreed. I had heard enough…seen enough…felt enough…to last me a lifetime. And more.

“Goodnight, my daughters.” Meema told us all. “Now we sleep.”

Once dressed for night and in our pallets on the floor, Meema came in to read the Bible to us before going to sleep. She smiled cheerfully at us all before opening the big family Bible.

Dai had pushed her pallet as close as she could get it to mine and was now sucking her thumb with two brown eyes looking up, her head on my shoulder as I had my arm around her.

“Rejoice in the LORD, O ye righteous,” Meema began and read Psalm 33, the chapter about how God provides and delivers those who trust in Him. “Let thy mercy, O LORD, be upon us, according as we hope in thee,” she ended.

We all prayed, even little Dai who simply said in a little voice, “Dear Jesus, I love You. Amen.”

^{· · ·}

Five days later on August 14^th we listened to the news on our borrowed radio again.

Our Japanese Emperor was broadcasting in a solemn tone. “We have failed, my people. This war is at its end.”

Thank God.

“We have lost. This country has been utterly defeated. We can only hope in the tomorrow.”

I heard a little sigh escape our lips as we sat there in the dining room on our cushions.

We had thought we would win.

We had wanted to win, to say we had not been beaten. But God’s plans were not to be undone. We had lost and stood at the mercy of our invaders and conquerors.

I trusted God to have pity on my native born citizens and to soften any hard hearts on both sides.

“As we all know from these ancient words,” our Emperor was speaking, “we must not only hope, but believe in the tomorrow.”

Believe.

“May we always remember, my people. Vision without action is a daydream; action without vision is a nightmare.”

The sound of applause followed over the radio, and I felt a tear slide down my cheek.

True. To have a vision of something great and not act on it is like having a strong horse with no legs to carry him.

Likewise, to act without a vision is like the ocean waves driving against the beautiful sands just for the sand to drift back into the ocean and never be seen again.

I felt another tear slip down my cheek.

How many lives would have been saved if man would have acted with a vision?

How many lives would have been saved if man would have had not just a great vision but had acted on it?

Nightmares.

Daydreams.

Terribleness, the word described it all…the whole war, the whole fight, the whole bloody scene of conflict. Would our minds ever heal so we could have a future?

^{· · ·}

I was pedaling back from Meema’s mother’s, after dropping off more food that we had prepared for the old woman.

I rounded a curve in the road and my breath caught. There lined on the sandy road was a group of teens my age and younger.

Neighbors who I had grown up with.

Friends…so I thought.

But no. There stood my enemies.

They stood there with scowls, armed with thin wooden clubs we played stick ball with.

I braked the pedals, almost colliding with a boy of about twelve, who seemed to be the leader of them all. His scowl was fierce and dark.

A little fear shook me inside.

Breathe. Angel, breathe. This will pass.

“Hello you all,” I thought maybe this was all a big joke. I tried to smile at them.

But not a smile surfaced on any of them.

My arms began twitching with spasms and I could feel my body going into a shock, the same kind after I saw little Phanny dead.

I gripped the handlebars, struggling to breathe as sweat broke out all over me.

The boy leader stepped closer to me and the others began circling around me.

Right now I could remember no names.

My friends’ faces looked at me with slanted eyes, and my eyes grew blurry.

“You helped murder my father,” the boy leader said darkly, coming closer to me with his club raised high. “You die too!”

I stood there, frozen.

“You helped kill my brother!” a girl said.

I felt the sting of the boy leader’s club on top of my head followed by another… and another.

Each one had something to say as they beat their sticks onto me.

Some said that I helped murder one of their relatives.

Others told me I helped destroy their homes.

As their thin clubs whacked me another round against my head, I had the brains to let go of my handlebars and shield my face.

No, please! I cried silently, my voice frozen and my whole body feeling trapped inside me. I managed to gasp out, “I thought we were friends, stop!”

“You are no friend of Okinawa!” the leader spat out. “You are a spy!”

I collapsed to the sandy ground.

“And traitors die!”

Stop. I felt blood oozing down my face and through my fingers. I didn’t know how these kids could be so mean to someone they had grown up with.

I thought I was going to be that dead “traitor” when I heard a loud buzzing noise.