11:02
The sun rose high on August 9th,
1945. Jasumin awoke early, and spent, or
more like it, wasted, several minutes at the window, breathing in the fresh
air, warm yet from yesterday’s heat, but fresh with the breeze of a new day.
She jumped at the sound of
the pots clattering. Oba Chi must have
breakfast on the go already. Hurriedly, Jasumin
dressed, wiggling into her well-worn plaid dress. She brushed her hair and plaited it back,
managing even to tie a ribbon at the end.
“Good morning, Oba Chi,” Jasumin
skipped out to the courtyard.
“Morning, Jasumin,” Oba Chi replied,
“Can you please set the…” whatever she wanted Jasumin to set was lost in a
squeal from the garden. Jasumin came
flying in.
“Oba Chi! They’ve sprouted! They’ve
sprouted!” she said in high glee, “Come and see!” She pulled Oba Chi’s hand urging her to come
faster to peer at the dirt. Oba Chi
wisely pushed the bubbling pot of rice of the stove and followed Jasumin out
into the garden.
Sure enough, there were many little
green sprouts in the dirt where they had planted squash, beans, and zucchini a
few weeks earlier. A close inspection
showed that the carrots, tomatoes, and cabbage were still to pop up.
They spent so long gazing at the
plants, that when the bell rang for the eight o’clock factory workers, both Jasumin
and Oba Chi jumped.
“Quick child,” she said, “We only have
an hour until school starts.” They ran
indoors and as Jasumin set the table, Oba Chi stewed the tea to pour over their
staple food.
Jasumin ate and took the dishes over.
She packed her school bag, making sure that the photos of her parents were in
her dress pocket. She liked to keep them
close, even though both seemed so far away now.
“Can I see Ka-ra?” She asked Oba Chi,
wishing to keep her daily routine, even if they were running half an hour
behind schedule.
“No, you don’t have time now, and she’s
eating. Besides, you need to run. You’ll see her when you get home from
school.” She kissed Jasumin goodbye, and
Jasumin fondly returned the embrace.
“See you later, Oba Chi,” and Jasumin
ran from the house. She resisted the
temptation to look at her sprouts, and continued at the fast pace she had set
all the way to school.
Once there, she set up her desk and
glanced at the clock. It’s ticking hands
told her she still had a few minutes to greet her friends. Then at nine o’clock sharp, the bell rang and
school started in earnest.
___________________________________________
Oba
Chi tidied up, and spent another few minutes gazing at the plants. She was really just as excited as Jasumin,
although it didn’t show nearly as so much.
A voice startled her, “Jasumin,” it said. The voice sounded weak and strained, but
strangely familiar, “Jasumin,” there it was again. Oba Chi cocked her head towards the
door. It sounded like it was coming from
inside. There is no-one there, thought
Oba Chi except for Ka-ra. KA-RA! The thought hit her hard. Swiftly she turned inside, and flung open the
bedroom door. Ka-ra was sitting up in
the bed looking around her, quite interested.
“Ms Chi Abu! Oh my! I had better get up. I’m so sorry.
Where is Jasumin?” Ka-ra was
flustered, and tried to get out of bed, but fell back, weak and exhausted.
Oba Chi had tears running down her
face. She smiled and said softly, “Oh,
don't worry. Don’t exhaust
yourself. Everything is fine. Jasumin is at school.”
“Oh, well, why are you here?” Ka-ra was bewildered. Oba Chi began to laugh, from sheer happiness.
“It’s a long story,” she said, “I’ll
tell you everything. But first, are you
hungry or thirsty?”
Ka-ra leaned back on the pillows,
“Come to think of it, I am rather,” she said.
“Wait here, I’ll get some food.” Oba Chi left, laughing and crying all at
once. She found some rice, already
cooked and steamed some tea. Oba Chi
also used this time to recollect her thoughts and compose herself. The months she had spent at the Daiki’s house
had caused many changes in Oba Chi. Her
face, although slightly lined and worried, was softer, gentler and kinder. All of her features looked more filled out,
with kindness, and joy that comes from caring for others. Her whole figure, at the moment, was alight
with happiness and overwhelming joy.
Shortly, she returned carrying a tray
of rice, tea and broiled fish. Ka-ra
fell upon the food as if she hadn’t eaten for months.
Oba Chi found a chair, and sat down at
the bedside, “Well, Ka-ra,” she said, “I’ll tell you all that has happened
since the day Sir Ha-bi’s death and the report of Fabio’s missing was delivered
to you.”
At the names of her beloved, Ka-ra
asked, “Have you heard from Fabio, has the war ended yet?”
Oba Chi quietly shook her head. Then she continued, “When you received that
news, you fell into a type of stupor, and eventually, total insensibility. Jasumin, at lost as to what to do, came to me
for help. I sought the medical advice of
Dr. Hiu, who informed me that you were insane, to put it bluntly, and there was
no road to recovery. Either you would
suddenly ‘wake up’ or stay like you were for the rest of your life. I, at Jasumin’s request, chose to stay on as
guardian of the girl and as care-taker of you. Jasumin!” she suddenly
ejaculated, “shouldn’t we send for her, so that she might share in this
glorious happening?”
“No, let us wait,” Ka-ra said, after a
moment’s hesitation, “Please continue your story.”
“Well, alright. Hopefully Jasumin won’t mind. Anyway, where was I? Oh, I chose to stay on
with you two and have now been living here for about six months. And that is the end, I think. It is a little hard to know the end of the
story.”
“I’m much obliged and in great debt to
your kindness,” Ka-ra said gratefully, “Did I give those photos to Jasumin?”
“Yes, you did, about two weeks
ago. That was the first thing that gave
me a glimmer of hope for your recovery.”
“Oh,” Ka-ra smiled.
_________________________________________________
Jasumin sighed as she looked over her
work. It was math, and math was not her
favourite subject, to say the least. She
was trying to work out fractions, those bothersome equations. Ms Rai Tada’s voice cut through her haze of
concentration, “No, Sadako, you put the smaller number on top…” Jasumin sighed again, and tried to close her
ears. Sadako was not the smartest of
students, and Ms Rai often had to explain things two, even three times again,
after everyone else had moved on.
“…the line is the pen mark between the
two numbers, Sadako…” and suddenly, Ms Rai Tada’s voice was drowned out by a
terrific explosion. There was a roar of
explosion after explosion, all so close that it seemed there were millions
going off all at once. Instantly, the quiet and studious atmosphere in the
class was broken, as the awful sound went on.
Some students fainted; others cringed, sobbing beneath their desks. The school building shook and the windows
broke, letting in a foul thick air. Bits
of broken glass was everywhere, but no-one paid any heed to it, cutting their
feet and hands as they all scrambled to the one place of safety, the bomb
cellar. Ms Rai Tada, pale and shaking,
had sounded the alarm. Everyone, whether
in a dazed and un-comprehending state or in hysterics, heard the alarm and
their instincts took over, and they all rushed to the dark room under the
school building.
Once below, the students and teachers
alike stopped rushing around in circles, and huddled in groups, terrified and
tense. They didn’t know what was
happening and they didn’t know if another explosion was about to go off under
their very feet and kill them all. Once
the awful sound of the bomb had stopped, there was silence for ten seconds. One could have heard a pin drop.
Then the alarms went off, and the
smell of smoke and the crackling of fire were heard overhead. For awhile, no-one moved, or spoke. Everyone was in a state of shock, and there
was not one who was able to help another.
They felt they were alone, terribly alone, and abandoned, despite the
fact they were in a crowd of around one hundred and sixty students and
teachers, all in one room. Gradually,
they all found places against walls, or behind mounds of dirt, that were yet to
be dug out. They held onto each other,
and so passed the night, in dread and unbelief.
The alarms continued long into the
night, and the smoke was increasing as more and more fires burned. Nagasaki was slowly crumbling, her buildings,
if not already flattened, were weakened by the impact of the bomb and then
destroyed by the uncontrollable fire that was devouring everything in its
path.
It was morning before Ms Rai Tada took
her first step of action. Like the rest
of the people, she was in shock and in emotionally drained. She had, alone in the group, an inkling of
what had happened. Earlier that day, she
heard rumours that Hiroshima had been hit with a powerful and destructive bomb,
called the atomic bomb, by the Americans, three days ago. News had been slow getting out since Hiroshima’s
communication means had been destroyed.
Ms Rai Tada guessed that they had suffered, a similar, if not the same,
bomb.
She stood up, instantly gaining the
attention of everyone in the room. She
smiled briefly, but that was all she could manage. Dully, she realised she should take a
roll-call, to ensure no student or teacher got left in the mad rush to the bomb
cellar. She remembered she should have done it hours ago, but dismissed the
thought. Too late, and she had to get
started.
“Teachers,
please rise.” Accordingly, they
did. Ms Rai Tada thought about giving a
short explanation of the events, but decided against it. The last thing she wanted was to have anger
break the strained nerves of every one in the room.
Quickly she counted the standing
teachers and other staff. Thankfully,
they were all there.
“Now, everyone else, go and gather
around your teacher, and teachers, please count and check everyone in your
class is there.” They nodded their
understanding and, for a few moments, everyone was occupied.
“Everyone from my class is here, Ms
Rai,” came one voice.
“Same.” Several others confirmed.
Ms. Rai relaxed a tiny bit. So far, she hadn’t lost any of her
students. Then she mentally kicked
herself, not everyone had spoken. She
spoke, “If someone doesn’t have their entire class, please speak up.” There was a moment, where she thought her
nerves would not take any more. She felt
a faint glimmer of hope, when no-one said anything. Then two voices were heard.
“I’m missing one.” Ms Rai Tada’s heart sank.
“And I have one too many.” And her heart rose once again. In the mix up and confusion, one little girl
got caught up in the wrong class. She
laughed in relief. But her relief was
short-lived, as one little voice raised a cry, which was soon echoed by a
hundred or so.
“Ms Rai Tada, I’m hungry, and cold and
tired, and scared. And it is dark Ms Rai
Tada.”
“I know,” she soothed. “Try to be
patient. I will get food soon.” She then directed the teachers to find the
stores, located in a passage, still underground, but hard to find in the
dark. They came back soon, carrying
biscuits and other refreshments, as well as several lanterns. The food was hard and cold, but it satisfied
the little ones’ desires, and the lanterns did much to raise their
spirits.
Ms Rai Tada once again stood and
addressed the crowd, “Now, we will begin to send you home. I think we would be safer down here, and I’m
loath to let anyone out into all that filth and foul air up top. However, your families must be wondering
about you…”
“Yes,” one said, before she could stop
herself, “if they are still alive.” A
little gasp ran around the room. The
thought that their parents and homes might not be waiting for them was one yet unthought-of
of, and Ms Rai had been hoping it would stay that way for a little longer, but
it was out now, and there was nothing she could say, except to continue with
her plan of attack.
“…so please listen to what I have to
say. I will send teachers out in groups
of three. They will have your address and they will check that...that all is
well in your home, and they are ready for you to come. Once assured, they will come back and escort
you home.”
Ms Rai Tada, after warning the
students to stay down, opened the trap door a crack. She let out a horrified gasp and slammed the
door. She sat on the stair, sobbing and
sobbing. The school looked at each
other.
Between her sobs Ms Rai Tada got out,
“...the school….it…it’s gone!”
There was a collected gasp and looks
were exchanged. No-one knew what to say
or do. Slowly, Mrs Takim moved forward,
and led Ms Rai Tada away from the steps.
She sat her down on a crate, and gestured for the first group to go
on.
She glanced at Ms Rai Tada. Mrs Takim realised, with some surprise, she
was not alone. For, moved by her trouble, her class had gathered around
her. Some were patting her hair, others holding
her hands. A few little ones were in her
lap. Rai smiled faintly through her
tears, and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. She couldn’t keep on like this, but her will
had been broken and she was emotionally drained. She nodded slightly at Mrs Takin, who took it
as a sign to take over.
Mrs Takin sent out the other two
groups and then sat down, nothing to do, nothing to say. Everyone simply sat with her, waiting.
The trap door lifted and the three
groups, happening to finish all at the same time, came in. Their faces were haggard, and there were
traces of tears on all.
“We found the house,” said the
appointed speaker of the group, “Everyone is alive and well. Two girls squealed and jumped up, eager to
see their parents again, “but they need their daughters now,” she continued,
“as they are leaving the city immediately.”
They whisked the girls up and out, and everyone turned their attention
on the second group.
“We found the house, or more like it,
the site.” She began reluctantly, “there
is nothing there but a pile of rubble.
Everyone who was in the house has died.
There is nothing left.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, as
Jasumin sank to her knees and sobbed as if her heart would break.
... to be continued ...
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