To read Chapter 1
Chapter 4
T-h-e the c-a-t cat s-a-t sat o-n on t-he m-a-t mat. The cat sat on the mat,” Jasumin slowly
spelled and then more confidently repeated.
“Well done!” exclaimed Mrs Frank,
“that was your first English sentence.
Tell me, Jasumin, why do we learn to read?”
“So we can learn more and educate
ourselves about events currently happening.”
Jasumin replied promptly. Mrs.
Takim had drilled that in from the first day of school. Mrs Frank looked puzzled, wondering how Jasumin
could have come up with such a philosophical view and so young. “Mrs. Takim,” Jasumin added. Mrs Frank nodded her understanding.
“That is one reason. Another, and more important, I believe, is to
learn so that we may read this book.”
She reached out her hand and pulled a thick black book of the
shelf. Carefully, she flipped through
the pages, “This book is called a Bible, and it tells us how much we have
sinned, how to be saved from our sins, where we go after our death, but, more
importantly, how much Jesus loves us.”
“Jesus? Who is Jesus?” Jasumin
queried. The name sounded so special,
she let it roll over her tongue before it was voiced.
“Jesus is God’s son, the Saviour of
the world. His story is in here too.”
Again, she patted the Bible. “One day soon, you will be able to read it for
yourself. But for now,” she said
brightly, replacing the Bible, “I propose we get some ice-cream to celebrate.”
“Ice-cream?” Jasumin repeated, “What’s
ice-cream?”
“You don’t know what ice-cream is?”
Mrs Frank was playfully shocked, “What do they teach children at these schools?
Well, I had best introduce you to it.
Molly! Coming to the ice-cream shop with us?” Of course, Molly said yes with a skip and a
jump.
______________________________________________
Jasumin was at school. She had just written her first
composition. It was only six sentences,
and told about the wonderful world of ice-cream. Mrs. Takim quickly read the neatly printed
words.
“Well done, Jasumin,” she said, “that
is very nicely written.” Jasumin nearly
fell off her chair in surprise. That was
unexpected. Mrs. Takim rarely ever
handed out praise.
Jasumin was so delighted that she replied, without
realising, “Thankyou Ma’am,” in English.
The class around her all gasped. Jasumin was confused for a minute. Then she recalled what she had said. Timidly, she glanced up at Mrs. Takim. Her teacher’s face, only a moment before so
congratulating and friendly, had formed a tight stern expression, and her eyes
seemed to flare red, and freeze.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Jasumin sniffed, this
time in Japanese.
“You will never, ever speak that
language, if I dare call it so, in this school again,” Mrs. Takim said, her
voice loud and angry, “Come here at once.”
Jasumin slowly rose from her chair and dragged her feet to the teacher’s
desk. “Hold out your hand.” The familiar
command was a strange one to Jasumin’s ears.
Crack! Mrs. Takim brought the ruler down on Jasumin’s palm not once, but
thrice.
“Now go, I don’t want to ever see you
here again.” And Jasumin turned,
sobbing, fled out the door. She ran into
Ms Chi Abu, the principal.
“Why, Jasumin, what’s the matter?” Ms
Chi Abu asked kindly.
“Ms. Takin, she struck me with her
ruler!” cried Jasumin, bursting into tears again.
“For what?” Ms Chi Abu’s voice was
still kind, but there was a hint of stern dislike in it. Yet, Jasumin sensed the harshness wasn’t
directed at her.
“I said, ‘thankyou ma’am’ in
English. I didn’t mean to.” Jasumin
sobbed.
Ms Chi Abu took Jasumin by her hand,
not her sore one, and led the little girl to her office. Here, she put some cream on the dull red
marks and covered it with a little pink cloth.
She gave Jasumin a chocolate, and a book to read.
“Wait here,” she said, and left the
room. The bells rang, signalling recess,
and Jasumin heard many feet running up and down.
Ms Chi Abu soon returned, “If you
could just step outside for a minute?” she kindly asked Jasumin. She nodded and sat down on a chair outside
the door. In a minute, Ms. Takin strode
angrily down the hall, and without a glance at Jasumin marched into Ms Chi
Abu’s office and slammed the door.
From behind the closed door, Jasumin
heard parts of the conversation.
“You hate all English for… “They
killed him!”… “I know….. Jasumin isn’t English….. You can’t strike a child….be
careful this is your last warning.”
Mrs. Takim left the office, her stride
still angry, but her face was changed.
Instead of anger, there was a look of anguish and there were tears in
her eyes. Jasumin felt sorry for her.
“Ms Chi Abu,” she said, jumping up of her chair,
“can I go now?”
“Yes, you may, have a nice day,” Ms Chi Abu said
absently. Jasumin ran off down the hall.
She stopped at the class-room door. Mrs. Takim was sitting at her desk,
her head buried in her arms, crying. Jasumin
hesitated. Should she go in? Was Mrs. Takim
still angry at her? She took the risk.
Jasumin cautiously tip-toed forward and touched Mrs. Takim on the arm.
Mrs Takim’s
head shot up. She saw Jasumin, but
before she could say anything, Jasumin spoke, “I sorry your husband is dead.”
She said simply, “was he a soldier?”
Mrs Takim nodded and pulled a picture out from her
desk, “this is his photo, the only one I have.”
Jasumin studied the young man, with kind dark eyes and dressed in a
soldier uniform.
“I
understand how you feel,” she said softly, “My father and brother, Ha-bi and
Fabio, are also in the war. We haven’t
heard anything from them since they left two months ago.”
Mrs. Takim
involuntary pulled Jasumin close and wrapped her arms around her.
“Thank you Jasumin,”
she said, releasing her, “The bell is about to ring. You had better take your seat.”
Jasumin was
sitting in her seat when the others came trooping in. Some stared curiously at the little
girl. Jasumin pretended not to
notice. Molly slipped in beside her and
squeezed her hand, “What happened?” she whispered. Jasumin shook her head slightly. Molly said no more, and had to be content until
after school and then she pounced on her friend.
“What
happened? Did Ms Chi Abu fire Mrs Takim? That’s what I would do, the old
meanie. Where you during recess? Was Ms
Chi Abu angry?”
Jasumin
laughed, happy that all worked out so well.
“One at a time,” she said. “Now,
to answer your questions: things, no, wait, no.
I think that covers it all.”
Molly gave
an exasperated sigh and said impatiently, “More details please!”
“Well, after
I left the school room, Ms Chi Abu saw me, I told her what happened, she gave
me a chocolate, and she talked to Mrs Takim, whose husband died in the
war. I told her that Ha-bi and Fabio
were there also, and she seemed to forgive me. That’s all.” Molly stared at Jasumin,
wide-eyed.
“Are you
going to tell your mother?”
“Ka-ra? I
don’t know.” Jasumin sighed. She didn’t
want to keep secrets from Ka-ra, yet she didn’t want to be taken out of school,
as Jasumin suspected Ka-ra would immediately do. Anyway, today was English lesson day, so she
had another hour to think about it, and perhaps ask Mrs Frank for advice. However, there were more important things to
attend to first. Like the good friend Jasumin
was, she had saved her chocolate bar to share with Molly. She carefully divided it in two and the two
girls walked home happily, munching on the chocolate, which was scarce in the
war.
Jasumin told
Mrs Frank everything, and wondered aloud if she should tell Ka-ra. Mrs Frank gave her good advice, saying to
tell Ka-ra everything and hope for the best.
But it was never good to deceive or hide anything from your mother, she
said.
Jasumin
thought about this, but still couldn’t make up her mind. She slowly walked home. As it turned out, she needn’t have worried.
Ka-ra was at
the door, waiting for Jasumin. Jasumin
considered this a bad sign. Ka-ra
greeted her and then said, “Ms Chi Abu and Mrs Takim were here before.”
Jasumin’s
head shot up, “What did they say?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
“They told
me what they all about today. They were
mightily sorry and hold no bad feelings about you. They still want you to go to school. I said that I would talk to you about
it. Do you still want to go?”
“Yes, oh,
please may I, Ka-ra?” Jasumin cried, hope rising.
“Very well,
I suppose it will be all right,” Ka-ra tapped her fingers together
thoughtfully. “Okay, you can continue.
Now come in help me get supper.”
“Thankyou
Ka-ra,” Jasumin flew into her mother’s arms laughing and crying all at
once.
School was
back to normal again, and was even better, for Ms Chi Abu struck up a
friendship with Ka-ra, and so then with Jasumin. Her manner was always kind towards the little
girl. Some scholars called her teacher’s
pet, but Jasumin didn’t mind. Ka-ra had listless spells more often now, and she
was glad to have a friend she could confide her thoughts to.
Six months
passed, without a word of the soldiers.
Ka-ra was outwardly worried. She
was often driven to distraction. She
seemed to haunt the War Department, waiting for news of Ha-bi and Fabio Daiki. The workers were kind and sympathetic, never
letting on that they had to deal with hundreds, and were sick of, worried
mothers, wives, children and friends everyday.
“Not today,
Mrs. Daiki,’ they would say with a friendly smile, “There is talk of an attack
somewhere (that’s confidential) and then maybe we’ll get some news. However, no news is good news. Let’s hope for the best. Well, good day and goodbye for now Mrs. Daiki,
we’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ka-ra
returned from these daily visited, cheered by their optimism, but depressed
from lack of news.
Jasumin,
too, visited the War Department, and got the same cheery response, but no
news. Until one day when a clerk said,
“Ah, Jasumin, you’ve come to inquire about Ha-bi and Fabio, no?”
“That is
right,” she said, skipping on the spot.
“Well, we
have a surprise for you today. How about
you run home and get your ma, and come back and find out. Here,” and she hand Jasumin a sweet, “Eat
this on your home, and return as fast as you can with Ka-ra.” Jasumin nodded her thanks and she darted out
of the building.
“Ka-ra, Ka-ra!”
she yelled, from the start of the street all they down to the house, “Ka-ra! I
went to-to the War Department! They have- have a surprise for us. And they want us there now!”
Ka-ra heard
‘War Department’ and was already putting on a jacket and finding shoes. She clamped a hat on Jasumin’s head and they
set off, not running….but close.
Five minutes
later, Ka-ra was back at home holding in her hand a precious letter. She trembled with anticipation. Jasumin had sped off to Mrs Frank’s house, to
see if she could read the letter. Ka-ra
didn’t know how to read at all, and Jasumin was not good enough at it to read
hand writing. Mrs Frank was at home, but
she confessed she couldn’t read Japanese.
However, she did express her delight at hearing their good news.
Ka-ra had instructed
Jasumin to, if Mrs Frank was unable to come, to see if Ms Chi Abu or Mrs Takim
were still at school, and ask them.
Hence, Jasumin ran off in that direction. She met Ms Chi Abu at the door, just locking
up. Jasumin breathed a sigh of relief.
If the teachers weren’t there, she wouldn’t know what to do or where to
go next. Ms Chi Abu readily agreed to
come around and read the letter.
Ka-ra paced
the floor. She held the letter in her
hand. Oh why, she thought, why is Jasumin taking so long?
In reality, Jasumin
was only gone fifteen minutes, but to both of them, it seemed like an age. Ms Chi Abu carefully opened the envelope and
started to read:
Dear Ka-ra and Jasumin,
We are well. Army life is fun,
although hard. We train from dawn to
dusk, seven days a week. Several men in
our regiment have died, from sheer exhaustion.
There are 250 men in each regiment, and I think there are 100 regiments
from Hiroshima alone.
Love Fabio
Dear Ka-ra,
I’m writing to say I’m well. We are training hard and have no time to
write until our bodies had time to adapt to the harsh conditions.
From Ha-bi
Ms Chi Abu re-folded the
letter. Privately, she thought that both letters, particularly Ha-bi’s were
rather stiff. This was not the first time she had read war letters aloud, and
she certainly had seen more flowery ones than the two she had just read aloud.
Ka-ra sighed
contentedly. Jasumin wiggled her toes,
“Why didn’t Sir Ha-bi mention me?”
“He probably was running
out of time,” Ka-ra replied after a moment’s hesitation, “They probably were
low on paper and ink as well.” Jasumin
nodded.
Ka-ra glanced over at Ms
Chi Abu, who nodded slightly, acknowledging that Ka-ra had not told the whole
truth, and that she wouldn’t mention it.
When Ms Chi Abu left
half an hour later, she had the precious letter in her hand. She promised to type the letters out using
her type writer, so that Jasumin could them aloud to Ka-ra whenever they wanted
to.
The next day at school,
when the recess bell rang, Mrs Takin said, referring to a note, “Jasumin, Ms Chi
Abu would like to see you in her office.”
Jasumin nodded, and filed out alongside her school-mates.
Ms Chi Abu was there,
with a brown envelope. “Here,” she said, “There’s your letters. I’ve typed a copy and put the original in the
same envelope. Put it in your pocket, so
you will not lose it. One more thing,”
she added, as Jasumin turned to leave, “I think you are ready to go up to the
next grade. I’ll talk to Ka-ra about it
and make all the arrangements. Goodbye, Jasumin.”
Jasumin left the office,
happy and excited. Being raised to the
next grade was an honour. Eagerly she
told Molly, who was happy for her friend, but lamented the fact that they would
not be able to share a desk any more, seeing Molly was not going to be raised a
grade any time soon.
The next days were happy
ones. Jasumin spent her last weeks in
the beginner class.
The school term was
nearing the end. There were exams. Mrs Takim explained to her class that exams
were merely a test, not to be feared, but to get right.
Jasumin did her best and
scored high in all her subjects and got the overall highest grade in her
class. Mrs. Takim gave Jasumin an
overall grade of A+.
Now it was the
holidays. Upon Mrs Frank’s urging, Ka-ra
took Jasumin to the seashore to holiday with Molly and her mother.
Jasumin loved it at the
sea. The waves crashed against the
shore, and the gulls flew overhead.
Happily, the two little girls gathered shells and waded in the rock
pools.
Ka-ra, after staying a
week, decided to go back home, to make sure everything was all right, and see
if there was any news from the War Department.
Jasumin, however, was
left in Mrs Frank’s care for another delightful week at the sea shore with her
good friends.
____________________________________________
Ka-ra made
her way down to the war office. She
stepped inside the cooled room. She sat
down on a nearby chair, folded her hands and sighed. It looked like she would be here awhile. The
line was long, and wasn’t moving very fast.
There were many anxious faces as people, predominately women, read the
casualties list, which was printed new every day. Sounds of wailing broke through the sounds of
many people. Saddened people left the
office, only to make room for the dozens more waiting outside. Keep calm, Ka-ra thought, sighing
again, neither Ha-bi nor Fabio can die.
Only other men die. Indeed, so
many men have died, that my soldiers will be kept safe.
Finally, a
young man who was behind the desk called, “Next please,” and Ka-ra got up and
made her way to the counter.
“I’ve come
to inquire about Ha-bi and Fabio Daiki, they left some months ago.” Ka-ra said
the now familiar words. He smiled, acknowledging
the fact. Then he stepped over to a
filing cabinet and murmured to himself as he thumbed through the many files.
“No, there
is nothing today,” he said, coming back to where Ka-ra was standing, “but I
will check the causality list for you.”
He stepped over to where another chart hung, behind the counter, away
from the crowds. Carefully, he ran his
finger down the ‘D’ section.
“Nope, not
there Ma’am,” he assured Ka-ra, “and madam, do you want to join our telegram
list?”
“What’s
that?” asked Ka-ra, uncertainly.
“All you do
is paying three yen, and if there is any news, either good or bad; ahem, you
know what I mean; then, the War Office will send you a telegram straight to
your door.”
“Why haven’t
I heard about this before?” Ka-ra asked, a little suspiciously.
“Oh, it only has just been introduced. The War Office was looking for a way to
reduce the numbers in here. Telegrams were the best idea that they came up
with. As you can see,” he looked past Ka-ra into the crowd, where people were
jostling each other, trying to get a glimpse at the casualty list, “We are a
mite crowded in here.”
“Yes, well…okay, I will join your telegram list,” Ka-ra
agreed, paid her three yen and gave the assistant her address.
_____________________________________
Jasumin smiled as she watched Molly
play in the ocean. Hurriedly, she
removed her own hat and ran down, to play with Molly in the waves.
Their laughter met Mrs Frank’s ears as
she sat on the sand, watching over her two charges. It is good that Molly found such a nice
friend to play with. It has made our
stay in Japan a lot more pleasant. When
we leave for America, well, we’ll see what happens. Mrs Frank sighed. They were desperately trying to leave the
country before war made it impossible to leave.
Ever since the Pearl Harbour attack three and a half years ago, they had
tried to obtain flights and permission to leave. They were well aware that, if USA or Japan
attacked either country on their own soil, it would be extremely dangerous for
foreigners to be in the wrong country.
Later that week, Mr Frank came to
their holiday house, very quiet, but happy within. He had finally got the passports and flights
secured.
“When are they scheduled?” Mrs Frank
asked, happy to have a way out, yet loath to leave Japan and tear her daughter
and Jasumin apart.
“This afternoon,” Mr Frank said, “it
is the last flight leaving the country for an indefinite amount of time. All the planes after that flight are being
converted to army planes.”
“This afternoon!” exclaimed Mrs Frank,
stunned that it would be so soon. True,
they were ready to leave. All their
mission work and businesses were finished, their house in Hiroshima was sold
and all their things in neat little boxes and they were renting the house at
the beach on a daily basis, easily ended.
There was only one thing,
“What about Jasumin?” Mrs Frank
asked. Mr Frank chewed his lip
thoughtfully. They couldn’t take her, of
course. There wasn’t time to send a
message to Ka-ra to ask her to get her, nor was there time to take her back to
Hiroshima personally.
“We’ll have to send her back on the
train,” he finally said, “she will be all right. The train staff is there. They will take care of her. Ideally, I would
take her back myself, but we simply don’t have time. And we have to get out of here, and this is
our one and only chance.”
Mrs Frank knew this was true, and
realized that it was their only option.
However, she still didn’t like the thought. She called the girls in and explained their
situation in great detail, taking pains to point out that the course of action
that they had adopted was the only way possible. Jasumin understood, and accepted her fate
philosophically.
Mrs Frank hugged her close, and Molly
cried, and wouldn’t let go of her friend until Mr Frank said it was time for Jasumin
to go. He drove Jasumin to the train
station and paid her way. He told the
conductor what stop she had to get off at, and asked him to take good care of
her. The conductor promised. Mr Frank bought Jasumin some candy, a rare
treat, and waved her good-bye until the train was out of sight.
Jasumin was sad to leave her friends
so suddenly, but from Mr and Mrs Frank’s explanation, which were thorough but
left important details that could be dangerous if heard by the wrong ears, she
believed that they would meet again soon.
She ate her candy, and lulled by the train’s rocking movement, fell
asleep. She was awakened by the
screeching of brakes. Finding that it
was her stop, Jasumin left, and ran home. Ka-ra
was surprised to see Jasumin on the doorstep.
Jasumin explained, and although Ka-ra was displeased, even angry, there
was nothing she could do, except be thankful that her daughter was home safely.
Ka-ra was still worried about her boys
in the army. She thought about them day
and night, often dreaming off into space, not realizing that Jasumin was
talking to her, or that she was even there.
Never mind, she consoled herself, the War Office hasn’t
contacted me, so all must be well.
It was only three days later, when Ka-ra received a telegram from the
War Office. Her hands trembled as she
took it from the delivery boy, but she made no move to open the envelope.
“Are you going to open it?” the boy
asked impetuously. Ka-ra shook her head.
“I can’t read,” She said slowly, “I
suppose I’ll just have to wait until Jasumin comes home from school.”
“I’ll read it for you,” he offered,
and Ka-ra handed him back the telegram.
He opened it with one swift movement.
“‘Ha-bi Daiki
killed in action. Fabio Daiki MIA,
missing in action. Regards, War Office.’ So sorry, ma’am,” he ducked
his head and left. Ka-ra, not really
comprehending his words until that moment, cried out in grief. In the envelope, there was a picture of
Ha-bi, in his soldiers’ uniform. This
was standard. When men entered the army,
their photo was taken, and reserved if they should die, so that the ones back
home should have a remembrance of them performing their last duties. Ka-ra
clutched at the photo, and, throwing the telegram on the table, fell on her
bed, and wept.
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