Will of a Tiger

by Iris Yang

  “He doesn’t take pain relievers.” Xiao Mei spoke for her husband. “In fact, he hasn’t used them for almost twenty years.”

  “Because of Danny’s death?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you punish yourself like that?” Susan held Birch’s hand again. “You knew my brother better than anyone. He’d hate to see you in pain.”

  Tears of profound love trickled down Birch’s face. Today, in front of his long-lost family, he allowed himself the freedom to express his deepest feelings.

  “Uncle Birch?” Young Danny walked toward them. He’d been playing with Phoenix in the backyard.

  “Yes, Danny?” A tenderness welled inside Birch as he spoke the name.

  “Phoenix told me you brought gifts for us. May I take a look?”

  “Of course.” Birch nodded.

  Xiao Mei opened a suitcase. It was filled with all kinds of food—candies, nuts, and cookies.

  “Wow! This is like Christmas, only better.” Eagerly the boy picked up a package. “May I?”

  “Wait,” Phoenix called out, choosing a different package. “This is my favorite.” She peeled the wrapper and stuck the candy in young Danny’s mouth.

  The adults exchanged affectionate looks.

  Xiao Mei opened the other suitcase, revealing a big box with a picture of an olive green airplane.

  “Whoa!” the boy exclaimed.

  Birch took a radio-controlled airplane out of the box. “Twenty years ago Danny gave me a plane like this. We talked about a flying club.”

  “Daddy had it painted.” Phoenix pointed to the tiger face on the nose of the aircraft. “He said it looks like the ones he and Uncle Danny used.”

  “This is so cool!” Young Danny’s face lit up with undiluted joy as he touched the airplane. “Can it really fly?”

  “Sure.”

  “Too bad. I don’t know how to…”

  “I know. I know,” Phoenix said, jumping up and down. “I know how to fly. I’ll show you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Daddy taught me. And a lot of other kids, too.”

  “I started a club. It’s called—”

  “Forget-You-Not,” the young girl cut Birch off, eager to share her knowledge.

  “Forget…you…not?” Susan repeated. Understanding the significance, she reached out and touched the back of Birch’s hand.

  “We have lessons every Sunday, and we have a big, big event each year.” Phoenix flung her arms wide. “We hear stories of Uncle Danny, Uncle Jack, Auntie Daisy and Jasmine.” She stood tall and proud. “When I grow up, I’m going to look for them with my daddy.”

  Susan crouched down in front of Phoenix and folded her into her arms.

  Moments later Phoenix asked in her small voice, unsure of herself, “Can Danny go with us?”

  “Certainly.”

  Birch picked up a gaily wrapped package. “This is for you.” He handed it to Susan.

  “For me?”

  “Open it.”

  A magenta silk scarf appeared when she removed the wrapping paper. “Oh, my goodness!” Susan looked up. Astonishment mingled with comprehension and appreciation. “You…you gave—”

  “Yes, I gave a pink scarf to Daisy and a red one to Jasmine.”

  “Danny told us in his letters. He said Daisy had the pink scarf when she...” Susan stopped, touching Birch’s hand again to show her compassion. “The image of Daisy vanishing right in front of him…haunted him. He wrote about the scarf many times. He said pieces of it floated down the gorge like raindrops. It’d appeared in his nightmares often.”

  Birch’s throat jammed with emotion.

  “Danny always seemed so…carefree,” said Xiao Mei. “Nothing seemed to bother him. I can’t believe he also suffered such guilt like Birch.”

  “A lot of veterans suffer nightmares and depression. Danny also said that he didn’t know how to repay the girls’ kindness. I guess, giving you a chance to live was his way to show his gratitude.”

  Unable to speak, Birch nodded.

  “Will you?” Susan asked as she held out the scarf.

  Birch took it and gingerly wrapped it around his younger sister’s neck.

  “Thank you!”

  “There is another one,” said young Danny, pointing to another package.

  Birch picked it up, hesitated a moment before handing it to Susan with both hands. “I’m sorry,” he said, his face grim.

  A white scarf came into view. It wasn’t new and had smudges of blood that couldn’t be completely removed. Susan stared at it in confusion. Then one hand curled over her opened mouth in disbelief.

  “Danny left it to me.” Birch squeezed the words out past the dryness of his throat.

  Susan pressed the scarf to her chest and closed her eyes.

  “Jasmine gave it to him on his twenty-eighth birthday,” said Birch.

  “I know. She had to tear his old one to wrap his wounds.”

  “Danny always had this and the red scarf around his neck. He left it to me the night before…”

  “Birch had it when he was shot,” Xiao Mei pointed to the scarf. “That bullet hit his right shoulder.”

  Susan stretched it open. There was a hole in the middle. She held the precious gift close to her for a full minute before beckoning young Danny. Wrapping the scarf around his neck, she said, “Remember the white scarf your Uncle Danny had?”

  The boy nodded, touching the scarf.

  “This is it! Take good care of it.” She turned to Birch and Xiao Mei. “Today is special. Next time he wears it…will be the day we find Danny or Jasmine.”

  Chapter 59

  A knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

  “It must be Dr. Watanabe.” Jeff stood up. A moment later, he came back with a short Japanese man.

  “I am sorry I am late,” the newcomer apologized with a strong accent. Outfitted in a black suit and yellow tie, he was in his late-thirties, a medicine bag in his hand.

  “Dr. Watanabe, thank you for coming.” Susan turned to Birch. “Dr. Watanabe is our neighbor and a friend. Danny left a note for him to come by.” She turned back to the short man, beaming. “This is my long lost brother, Birch Bai.”

  Birch stood up. He didn’t like to interact with Japanese. In principle, he understood that not all people in Japan had participated in the war or the atrocities, but emotionally he had difficulty facing them. Seeing a Japanese always reminded him of the horrors he’d experienced, but being a civilized person, he held out his hand.

  The doctor smiled and tipped his head in a polite bow. Looking up, he stretched his arm. But before he touched Birch’s hand, out of the blue, he paled. The smile faded into a look of astonishment. “Brother? Birch?”

  His eyes bulged. His hand froze in midair. “I…I have to go.” His small frame seemed to shrink visibly as he took a step backward. In haste, he bumped into Jeff who stood behind him. “Sorry.” He ran toward the door as if all the devils in hell were at his heels.

  Recognition dawned on Birch, too. “School Boy?” he called after the Japanese man.

  The name bolted the doctor into place. Then, frantically he resumed running.

  Birch called out again, raising his voice.

  This time the man turned around. He looked like a hunted animal who had just realized the last route to freedom was closed. Without further hesitation, he dropped down and crawled back on his hands and knees. Stopping right in front of Susan and Birch, he lowered his head to the floor.

  The group took a collective gasp. Jeff herded the kids out of the house in a hurry.

  “You are School Boy,” said Birch. A wave of nausea hit him as he reconciled this polite, well-dressed man with the thin young guard he remembered from the prison.

  Dr. Watanabe kept banging his forehead on the wooden floor. “I am sorry. So sorry, so sorry…”

  “What is going on?” asked Susan, bewildered. “Who is…?” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “No!”

  “
Yes.” Birch nodded. “He was one of the guards.”

  “In the prison?”

  Birch dipped his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing to block the sight of the former guard. Emotions swirled inside his chest.

  For a few moments, the surroundings faded away, and he was back in the grim prison cell. Haunting images flooded his head: Danny’s pain-twisted features and bleeding leg; Mr. Ding’s bruised forehead and broken eyeglasses; Captain Zhang’s nail-less fingers; the teenage prisoner’s headless body; Jackal’s sword dripping blood; the mass grave.

  Voices he would never want to hear again sounded loud and clear in his ears: Danny’s agonizing screams, Mr. Ding’s pleading words, Captain Zhang’s curses, the poor teenager’s wail, the gunshots, the buzzing of the flies around the bodies.

  He could still smell the foul odor of sweat and urine. He felt the smoldering heat. He tasted blood and death in his mouth. Birch had lived in that prison for seven weeks, and out of dozens of people there became the sole survivor. Now, he was forced to face their shared enemy.

  What could he say to the former guard for all those dead souls? Raw emotion sent Birch into a tailspin. He didn’t know what to do. One thing he did know, though, was that no matter what he said or did, nothing would bring those people back to life. Nothing would bring Danny back.

  And out of all the guards, it was School Boy he was facing, which made it even more complicated. Birch quivered, maintaining his composure by a thread.

  Susan stood up, grabbed the Japanese man by the collar and slapped him with her open palm. “How dare you to come here? And pretend to be our friend?”

  Dr. Watanabe continued to kneel as he protected his head from another assault.

  “Stop, Susan.” Birch grasped her arms. “He wasn’t the bad one. He helped us.”

  “I am the bad one,” the doctor shrieked. “I am guilty!” Still kneeling, he straightened his upper body. “I…I shot…I shot Danny.”

  “You did what?” asked Birch. The knuckles on the back of his hands bulged, turning white.

  “I am the guilty one. I killed Danny.”

  Birch picked up his cane, raising it high above his head. The urge to hit the little man swelled like a tornado about to unleash its destructive power.

  “No. Birch, no!” Xiao Mei begged, closing her hand around his bicep.

  “I had no choice.” Tears poured down Watanabe’s face. “I was ordered to do it. I am so sorry.” His nose was running, spittle flew from his mouth. “As God is my witness, I did not want to kill him. I liked Danny. He taught me English. My uncle lived in the States. I have always liked Americans. I am a U.S. citizen now.”

  Birch clenched the cane. His arm shook so hard the stick wobbled in the air. A war waged inside him. A soul-deep ache stirred within him, demanding him to punish the man. It took incredible discipline not to send the cane down.

  More tears flooded down the Japanese man’s cheeks. “I came to the U.S. I became a doctor. I wanted to redeem myself.” He angled his face toward Susan. “The moment your brother died, the soldier part of me died as well.” Putting a hand on his chest, he added, “I swore on my mother’s grave that I would become a doctor one day. I would save lives to repay the lives I had destroyed.”

  The cane came down without touching the man kneeling before him. The tidal wave of anger ebbed. Birch believed him. There was no reason for him to lie. He’d confessed on his own. In this middle-aged man, Birch could see School Boy, who had kindly offered Danny the precious pain reliever and the food. He took the medicine bottle out of his pants pocket and shoved it to the doctor. “Danny had always appreciated your kindness.” He then told everyone the escape plan and how Danny had persuaded others not to kill School Boy.

  The doctor listened. By then his torrent of howls had weakened to a snivel. Holding the medicine bottle before his chest, he bowed to Birch, using the Chinese way of showing his sincerity. “Thank you!” Then he turned to Susan. “I did not mean to lie to you. But how could I tell you the truth? I was too ashamed.”

  “Dear God! Did you know who we were before you—?”

  “Yes. I picked the house close to yours. I did not mean anything malicious. Please, believe me. I just…”

  “Did Danny say anything before…before…?” asked Birch. “Tell us the truth.”

  “There were seven of us and seven prisoners. I was facing Danny. I was so shaky that I could not steady the rifle. I was only eighteen. I had never killed anyone. Danny…laughed. He said, ‘Medicine bottles fit better in your hands than a gun.’” Lifting his hands, the doctor studied his palms and the small bottle cradled within them.

  Birch cringed, and then sensed Xiao Mei’s hand on his back, soothing him as she’d always done.

  “He looked so…calm. His gaze was steady. I could not believe anyone would be so calm…in the face of death.”

  Closing his eyes, Birch tried to hide his emotion. Danny was calm because he was willing to die for me.

  “We fired,” Dr. Watanabe said in a detached tone. “I saw him go down. Even then I could still hear him…speak…” he stammered, putting his hands over his ears as if to block his hearing. “He was talking in Chinese. His voice was low and weak, but it scared the hell out of me. I dropped the rifle. The prison chief kicked and punched me. Then he walked toward Danny and…” the doctor faltered again, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down. “He used his sword.”

  Birch felt the wound in his heart being ripped open. For twenty years he’d wondered about Danny’s death. Who killed him? How did he die? Did he say anything? What was he thinking at the time? Now, he’d finally learned the truth, and the gruesome details cut through his soul. Grief swelled inside him, an ache powerful and all-consuming.

  Trancelike, Susan slumped back onto the sofa and sat there trembling. Birch put his arm around her shoulders. The room was quiet except for the sound of weeping and sniffling.

  Birch broke the silence: “What did Danny say?”

  “Honestly, I do not know. But I believe he was reciting a poem. There were words like wind…and water…”

  “Oh, Christ!” said Birch, tears returning to his eyes. “Feng xiao xiao xi yi shui han. Zhuang shi yi qu xi bu fu fai,”

  “That is it. My Chinese is terrible, but I know a few words.”

  Birch turned toward Susan. “It’s a phrase from an ancient story. I don’t think any translation can truthfully convey the sense of heroism, the sad feeling, and the dignity of a warrior staring in the face of death.”

  He sat up straighter. “To translate it directly—” His throat ached with the effort to hold back tears as he repeated the exact words that he’d spoken to Danny more than two decades earlier. “It says: Wind rustled across the desolate land. Water in the river turned icy and cold. In this gloomy day, a warrior, knowing he wouldn’t return alive, walked straight forward without so much as a backward glance…”

  Another heavy silence descended on them.

  Finally, Susan asked, “Did anybody else say anything?”

  “They all shouted,” the doctor answered, “‘Down with Japanese Devils. Long live China.’”

  Birch nodded. The slogans were common during that era. “What happened to Jackal?”

  “Jackal?”

  “The prison chief.”

  “He retired from the military after the war. I was told he took a job in charge of a small jail down south. He—”

  “He didn’t receive any punishment for brutalizing and killing the prisoners?”

  “No. Military personnel who had committed worse atrocities were never punished. But several years ago I heard he was killed during a riot. He was so cruel to the inmates.”

  “Sounds like the saying is true,” Xiao Mei said and sighed in relief. “Shan you shan bao. E you e bao—what goes around comes around.”

  Birch didn’t like this saying. If it were true, then Danny wouldn’t have ended up in an unmarked grave. Hundreds of thousands of innocents, including Daisy and Jasmine, wo
uldn’t have died painful and unnecessary deaths.

  Yet he didn’t have the energy to argue. The idiom tried to persuade people to conduct virtuous deeds for the sake of having a good ending. In his philosophy, though, no matter what the result, being a decent person was what motivated him. And Danny had done just that.

  The reality was cruel and ironic. A great man like Danny had died. The person who’d participated in his execution had not only lived, but also became an American citizen. The United States and Japan became allies. China, the very country Danny and Jack had fought for, was divided. Birch still couldn’t set his foot on the land he’d spent eight years fighting for.

  Doubts which had troubled Birch for a long time resurfaced. Did we do the right thing? What was the purpose of our sacrifice? Was it truly worthwhile? His mind reeled. He felt himself doubting everything they’d done and the very principles for which they’d stood.

  “I am so sorry,” Dr. Watanabe apologized again. “Please forgive me.”

  Blinking hard to beat back the tears, Susan gripped the doctor’s arms. This time she pulled him upward. “Oh, for that bottle of pain reliever you gave my brother—” Yet she couldn’t say the forgiving words.

  “Give us some time,” said Birch. Then he added, “Danny would be happy knowing that you listened to him and became a doctor.”

  Dr. Watanabe nodded gratefully as he left.

  The trio sat huddled together, embracing and nursing their wounds.

  The kids returned home, and young Danny cradled the tiger-faced airplane as if he were holding a baby. The white scarf was wrapped around his neck. Phoenix, a head shorter, held the transmitter in her small hands. Her scrawny chest puffed up. Side by side, they walked into the room, talking and laughing. Their youthful and innocent faces lit up like summer sunshine. Along with their smiles, they brought fresh air. Even though they’d met only several hours ago, they seemed to have become instant best friends.

  More like a brother and a sister, Birch thought. Suddenly, his eyes, shiny with the recent tears, widened. The dark thoughts, which had almost choked him a moment ago, loosened their grip as a revelation hit him. In a moment of clarity, he understood—across time and space, out of all the ugliness and the unfairness, an extraordinary friendship had formed and thrived; love endured and prevailed.