KAYŌ [2005]
—Do you remember the name of the Japanese-American soldier who handed you the megaphone?
After changing the cassette tape and pressing the record button of the portable player on the table, the small woman only two years out of college looks at you and gives you a little smile. You drop your eyes and look at the tape turning inside the transparent plastic window. You can’t remember her name or the name of that soldier. And that makes you feel uncomfortable.
Was it Henry? Or did you say Smith? You can clearly picture him. He was in his mid-twenties, and his tanned face had a little cut on the left cheek. You can also remember thinking that if you took him out of his military uniform and put him in Okinawan clothes, nobody would know the difference. But you can’t for the life of you remember his name. No, Henry was the name of that black soldier that caused trouble at the comfort station. And Smith was the guy that Seiji stabbed in the stomach with his harpoon. At a loss, you raise your head and return her gaze.
—I’m pretty sure it was Robert....
You’re surprised at the words that pop out of your mouth. But after you say the name aloud, you’re pretty sure that that’s right. And didn’t you say that his family name, from his Okinawan father, was Higa?
—Robert Higa. Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was it....
Saying the name reminds you that Robert was also the name of that American politician who was assassinated. You were working on the base when the Americans were watching TV in the office and making a big fuss. Maybe that’s what made you say Robert in the first place. But you don’t correct yourself, even after the woman starts scribbling in her notebook.
Who cares about the name of some Japanese-American who could’ve passed for an Okinawan? Making excuses for yourself causes you to feel a relapse of the anger you felt toward him. The interpreter looked down on you, even though he was young enough to be your son. As you pick up the teacup on the table, you’re reminded of the weight of the megaphone he handed you. You could feel the piercing stares of the villagers on your back. When you turned around, you noticed Seiji’s father, Seikō, glaring at you with particular intensity. His tanned face was covered with a beard, and his inflamed eyes in their sunken sockets were like white stones burning in a cavern. He should’ve been pleading with you to help his son, but his eyes were full of undisguised hostility and menace instead. When you reflected that this guy had despised you since childhood, you spit out to yourself, Seiji can go to hell! But when you saw Hatsu praying at his side, you were immediately filled with a desire to help.
—So you and the Japanese-American interpreter named Robert Higa tried to talk Seiji out of the cave?
The expression on her face reminds you of how Hatsu looked when she was young. You stare at her, and she nods with an innocent smile. The fact that you can’t remember her name, even though you’ve heard it many times, along with being uncertain about the name of the interpreter, makes you conscious of your age. This causes your confidence to wither. Trying not to get depressed, you do your best to focus your mind on your cloudy and uncertain memories.
—Yes, the interpreter asked me to help, so when he handed me the megaphone, I tried to talk Seiji out....
The huge bishopwood and banyan trees that had hid the cave were blown up during the naval bombardment. Hazy light from the overcast sky shone into the depths of the cave, which slanted downward into darkness from the entrance at the bottom of the limestone cliff. You could see empty bottles, clothes, and pieces of boards scattered around inside, and on the gravel outside. The scene in the woods was vividly seared into your memory. You had also hidden in that cave, along with the nearly hundred other villagers who’d fled there for cover. By becoming the head of civil defense, you had avoided being forced into the Defense Corps. At the cave again, it was as if you could hear the shells from the naval bombardment flying through the air. And that made your hands shake. As the interpreter handed you the megaphone, he noticed your hands shaking, and laughed. Annoyed at his condescending attitude, you took the megaphone in your hands, and ignored his explanation about how to turn it on. Then you called down to Seiji, who you knew was hiding in the depths.
—Seiji, we know you’re hiding in there. If you come out now, the Americans will let you live.... Don’t worry!
You didn’t know if that second part was true. The interpreter had told you that the stabbed soldier wasn’t going to die, but when you asked what would happen to Seiji, he only shook his head. You bent the truth to soothe not only Seiji but also Hatsu. You added, Don’t worry! to soothe Hatsu and yourself.
—Come out!
Your words bounced off the cave’s walls and echoed back out through the entrance. You wanted to believe that you spoke for the entire village. However, you realized that not everyone there trusted you.
When you handed the megaphone to the interpreter and turned around, you were greeted with the same looks that had been thrown at you earlier. The villagers stared at you and shook their heads as if you were a friend of the Americans. And you felt humiliated just like before. Those people never understood anything! They never considered how much I did for the village by negotiating with the Americans! They never understood how much trouble I went through to get more food distributed to them! And then when Seiji stabbed an American and put the entire village
