No, it must’ve been longer. As you watched the bluish white smoke rise up from the mouth of the cave, you kept repeating in your mind, Hurry up! Come out! Suddenly, you heard a woman scream behind you and then soldiers yelling. You turned around, and saw that Hatsu had rushed forward and that some soldiers were holding her back with their rifles. Seikō grabbed her arms from behind, forcing her to the ground. Hatsu’s cries were so intense that the trees shook. The villagers were getting restless.
Over a hundred voices, which up until then had been silent, hurled words of anger, one after another. With their veins popping out of their arms and legs, the crowd pushed forward like an uncontrolled beast. The Americans showed a fear that caused you to shrink back in terror. At the commander’s signal, the soldiers trained their guns on the crowd. When the villagers saw this, their faces went rigid. Though you were frozen, you felt a sense of relief that the Americans must’ve shared.
—How did Seiji look when he came out?
—He was staggering and looked like he’d collapse any minute. He used his harpoon to support himself.
—His harpoon?
—Yes, he apparently planned to use that to fight the Americans. And in his other hand, he held a grenade.
—Were grenades available at that time?
—He probably found one left behind by the Japanese forces. Back then, there were even people who emptied out the gunpowder and used unexploded shells to catch fish.
—Did he throw it?
—Huh? What?
—I mean, did Seiji throw the grenade?
—If he did, he would’ve been shot dead immediately. He tried to throw it, but he collapsed before he could. Besides, the grenade was a dud.
Hatsu suddenly stopped crying, and Seikō and the villagers turned their attention to the cave. You turned back around. Seiji had staggered out of the smoke and now stood supporting himself with the harpoon in his left hand. His unrecognizable face was covered with mud, and tears flowed from his eyes, which were swollen shut. As if trying to locate the Americans with his ears, he moved his head back and forth. The commander yelled something, and the five soldiers near the cave leveled their rifles at him. When you noticed that he was holding a grenade, you wanted to run, but your feet wouldn’t move. In response to the commander’s voice, Seiji started to pull the pin of the grenade.
If he hadn’t collapsed, he would’ve been shot dead. At least that’s what you thought later. Several shots rang out in rapid succession. Seiji fell forward but never let go of the grenade. With a shaky hand, he pulled the pin and pounded the fuse into the ground. Then he lifted his upper body and tried to throw the grenade, but it only tumbled from his hand and rolled beside his face, which was buried in the dirt. When you saw the interpreter and the commander dive for cover, you instinctively threw yourself to the ground in a panic, too. You covered your ears, pressed your face into the ground so hard that the stones burrowed into your forehead, and waited for the grenade to explode. You heard the shrill buzzing of the cicadas. A considerable amount of time passed, but that was all you could hear. When you lifted your head, two soldiers were standing next to Seiji. One pointed his rifle at Seiji’s head while the other squatted down and slowly reached for the grenade. After cautiously picking it up, he threw it into the cave and immediately crouched down. You pressed your face into the ground again, but the grenade didn’t explode.
Damn Seiji! Scaring the shit out of everybody! you muttered so that no one could hear. Then you got up and scurried to catch up to the commander and the interpreter, who were walking toward Seiji. Covered with sweat and mud, Seiji’s tattered, faded jacket clung to his back, which slowly moved up and down. One of the soldiers stuck his boot under Seiji’s chest and flipped him over onto his back. Seiji’s pale face was covered with tears, sweat, and mud. Saliva mixed with blood dripped from his purple lips. His swollen eyelids had turned dark red, and shimmering tears flowed from the corners of his eyes. Blood streamed from his right shoulder and soaked his jacket. Another soldier pried Seiji’s fingers open, grabbed the harpoon, and laid it on the ground. Then he frisked Seiji to make sure he didn’t have any other weapons.
The interpreter asked if you were absolutely certain that this was Seiji. When you nodded, he explained to the commander. You took two or three steps back, but you didn’t have the courage to turn around and confront the villagers. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you tried to be more inconspicuous by moving to the side and watching the commander and his men. Two of the soldiers were given an order and started running toward the road. The interpreter picked up the megaphone and announced to the villagers:
—Don’t worry! He’s alive!
You imagined that everyone looked greatly relieved, but you didn’t actually check to make sure.
Ten minutes later, the two soldiers returned with a stretcher. After placing Seiji on it, they started walking toward the villagers. Seiji’s right hand, trembling as it dangled over the side of the stretcher, was curled up as if still grasping the grenade. Some of his toenails had been torn off, and streaks of blood ran down the soles of his bare feet. Apart from Hatsu, who was wailing and trying to rush to her son’s side, and Seikō, who held her back, the villagers watched in complete silence as Seiji was carried toward them. The silence terrified you. You couldn’t help thinking that when the anger suppressed at gunpoint finally erupted, you’d become the target.
The soldiers grew tenser and tenser as they approached the villagers. With their fingers on the triggers, they tightened their formation on all sides of the
