“Did you get any sleep?” asked Kimiko.
“I overslept. Hiroko had to awaken me.”
The girl leaned forward. “Mr. Masters ... Keith, do you mind very much if we talk some more about my father?”
“Look, I realize I’m perhaps the only person you may ever meet who could give you the facts, so don’t be afraid to ask whatever you want and as often as you want. And I will understand if you ask me to repeat myself a dozen times.”
“Thank you,” said Kimiko. “There are a thousand questions in my mind, but I do not know how to put them.”
Hiroko laid down her eating sticks. “We bought every article we could find about Iwo Jima. Mother even visited a few of our people who had surrendered there. But you are the first American we have ever spoken to about it. What was it like?”
“My army regiment was sent there towards the end to assist in cracking the final defenses and in moping up. Then we prepared beach defenses, in the event your people tried to take back the island.”
“But the details, Keith,” insisted Hiroko. “We’ve read so much about the military action that we know it by heart, but the day to day details we couldn’t find them in a book. How did my fath...our people, and yours, eat and sleep, and get treatment when they became ill?”
“Well, I guess you know the meaning of mopping up. That’s when the main fighting is over and there are still small groups hiding out. We would search for them, to protect our airplanes and supply points from hit and run attacks. Actually, one of your groups came out at night and went wild through an airfield tent area with rifles and sabers. They killed a number of men before they were driven off.”
Hiroko pushed aside her bowls of pork and rice. “Did you really try to get our people to surrender?”
“Of course we did. It stands to reason that it’s better than going into caves after them. Remember, the Japanese soldier was taught to fight to the end. That meant we would have to lose men going in after them.
“At Iwo Jima, we dug fox holes, strung barbed wire around the entire perimeter to prevent your soldiers from throwing grenades into our positions while we slept, then, during the daytime, we’d enter caves to flush out small bands. At night we would set up ambushes to deter them from forming into larger groups for a coordinated attack.”
“How did you try to get our men to surrender?” asked Kimiko. “Did some of your soldiers speak Japanese?”
“We had some Nisei along, Japanese Americans. They would accompany us on patrol whenever we located any of your people in a cave. Later on, we had help from some of your soldiers who had surrendered. They would speak to the hold outs, to explain that we would not kill them, that we would treat them properly as prisoners.”
“You mean,” exclaimed Hiroko, her face flushed with disbelief, “that Japanese soldiers would help you?”
“Hiroko,” said Masters. “There was much false propaganda during the war, that we would torture and kill prisoners. The best way to prove it is not true is to send in a prisoner himself. A lot of good men, perhaps even your own father, would still be alive if they were given the right opportunity to surrender.”
“How large was the cave of my husband?” asked Kimiko.
“About five feet wide, six or seven feet long, maybe four or five feet high.”
“That means he could not even stand up.”
“Yes.”
“Was there any food?”
“I don’t know.” He was pretty certain there would not have been much, if any at all.
“How about water?”
“There was very little water on Iwo. Just a few wells.”
Kimiko stared at him, and her silence impressed Hiroko. “I suppose that is what you meant when you spoke of ambushes at night,” she finally said.
“Yes.”
“Tell us,” insisted Hiroko.
“It isn’t pleasant.”
“We did not expect it to be,” said Kimiko.
“All right. We would set up machine gun positions around a well. Then, whenever we found a trail or natural access to the well, we’d put in booby traps and flares, so that anyone walking along would hit the trip wire. They would either be caught by the booby trap or the flare would light up the area. Then we could see well enough to shoot.”
“They must have been horribly thirsty,” sighed Kimiko. Masters did not answer, for he knew that water consumed their thoughts night and day. “What did they do when they were ill or injured?”
“We found a hospital cave directly under our battalion perimeter. It had an opening just large enough for a man to crawl inside. We heard that your people slipped in and out before it was discovered.”
“What did you do with the hospital when you found it?” asked Hiroko, grimly.
“We sent in a Japanese prisoner, but they wouldn’t let him come back out. A little while later we located one of their air vents and blew it shut. Soon a naval man came out and attempted to negotiate.”
“What did he want to negotiate?” interrupted the girl.
“That we should leave the area unguarded so they could come out and commit suicide.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Hiroko angrily.
Kimiko shook her head. “It was the way of our soldiers, Hiroko.” She turned to Masters. “What did you do?”
“We refused, of course. We agreed to allow them to commit suicide undisturbed, but we would not open the ring we had placed around the cave opening. That would have been foolish. They would have sneaked out at night and attacked us or escaped.”
“Well, what happened?” prompted the girl.
“The navy man suddenly decided that he didn’t want to go back into the cave, and we didn’t force him to. He told us that the hospital had two more air vents, so we searched about until we located them and blew them shut. Soon afterwards, they came out, about forty or so.”
“Is that all?” asked Hiroko, skeptically.
Masters turned to face her. “No, it isn’t all,” he stated, sternly. “We went into the cave later on and found that before surrendering, the doctor in charge had murdered the seriously ill with injections.”
There was a profound silence. “Why? Why?” said Kimiko, weakly.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, Kimiko. Because people are insane. When I was young and a soldier, I didn’t even ask. Everything seemed normal. Fighting, killing, committing suicide it was all an accepted thing. You should know that.”
“Poor, poor Ito,” said Kimiko. “Caught up in all this, struggling so hard to take his feet out of the mud of the paddies, working day and night to make a better place for us.” Then she fell silent, thinking of Ichiro.
Masters understood. “What is going to happen next?”
“He has a month,” she replied. Then she stood up, as if to signal an end to the speaking of death for the night. “Come, Keith, let me show you the garden.”
He followed her through the sliding doors into a large garden enclosed by the same high, bamboo fence, with hooded lanterns illuminating the perfectly tended flower beds and the lawn. A number of stone benches were ranged around a pentagon shaped pond in the center. The evening was cool and Kimiko caught up a shawl from a bench to place around her shoulders. They walked quietly round the garden, breathing in the scent of the flowers and the night.
In the shadows, Masters took Kimiko by the shoulders and looked down into her sad eyes. “Try not to worry too much.”
“That is impossible to do, Keith. My heart is so full of sorrow.”
He bent his head and kissed her gently on her lips. She stood passively in his arms, although she returned the kiss. “I will go now,” he said.
“Stay as long as you wish. I am not tired.”
He looked at his watch. It was after eleven. “When shall we meet again?”
She smiled up at him. “Whenever you wish. I do not have to be treated like a young girl.”
Kimiko would not permit him to return to the hotel by taxi. She sent Hiroko to back out
the car from the garage.
“Would you like to meet me for lunch?” she asked, as they kissed goodnight.
“Sure. Shall I pick you up at the store?”
“No. Tomorrow I will be at my main office. I will give you the address before you leave. It will give some of my other employees something to talk about for the rest of the week. Goodnight, and rest well.”
Hiroko eyed him as he climbed inside the car. Within a block or two, she said, “I saw you kiss mother in the garden.”
“You must have a good pair of field glasses. Did you also hear me say directly after we kissed that her heart should not be full of sorrow?”
“No, I only observed. It was not a kiss of condolence.”
“Only one kiss?” he said, his sense of humor at full enjoyment.
“I bet you kissed her again while I was getting the car.”
Masters had to laugh. “It could have been a dozen or so. Do you think your mother needs someone to protect her?”
“She is a lonely woman. And your sudden arrival could be somewhat romantic, if one ignores the reason for you having come.”
“I think your mother is an intelligent, down to earth person who wouldn’t go jumping to conclusions like a certain young lady who is related to her.”
Hiroko smiled. “Well, tell me the truth. Have you two gone further than kisses?”
“Why?” asked Masters, amused. “Would you like us to?”
“You didn’t answer. You’re evading the question.”
“You first. Would you want us to?”
“No, I wouldn’t want mother to have an affair with you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s your turn to answer. How about it?”
“We have not gone further than the kiss or two we spoke of.”
“Do you intend to?”
“My God, you’re a nosy person. It’s none of your business. But let’s get back to my question. Why wouldn’t you like us to have an affair.”
As soon as he asked it, Masters knew she had been leading him along, and he wished he could recall the question.
“Perhaps I’d like to have an affair with you myself,” she replied, calmly.
He did not make the mistake of laughing. “No dice, Hiroko. You’re playing with words, like some people play with explosives to learn how far they can go before it blows up.”
“Why not. Am I not beautiful? Wouldn’t you like to have a woman like me?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t believe you. I bet you’d like to touch me right now.”
“Sure I would. I’d like to wring your neck. I told you to lay off. If you have hot pants, then find a nice young fellow.”
“I’ve found nice, young fellows. They don’t impress me.”
“Then find an old one. But don’t con me.”
She pulled the car to the curb and stopped. The street was in darkness. She turned to face him. “Keith, don’t speak to me with an old man to young girl attitude. First, you aren’t an old man. Second, I’m a big girl where it matters, and you know it. You haven’t stopped looking at me since we met. A man likes to make love to a woman, especially good looking ones. Please be serious. Why won’t you make love to me if I ask?”
He knew he had to answer it carefully. If he screwed this one, he would have to leave Japan at once. It would be the end of his highfalutin ideas about atonement, the friendship he felt for Kimiko, the first enjoyment he had had in so many years. “Not every man wants to sleep with every beautiful woman he sees,” he said. “When you’re young and have hot pants, that’s another matter. You tussle around in bed, and when it’s over, you have a good laugh, go out for a drink, then go home feeling like you met a good friend. Later on in life, you learn that complications set in if you try to act like a kid.” He stopped short because he realized he had made a mistake.
Hiroko knew it, too. “I dare you to take me to a hotel right now and let me get undressed. I bet you’d eat your words.”
“For Christ’s sake,” snorted Masters. “What’s all the talk about? If you want to get laid, find somebody who’s in the mood and do it. Leave me out of it. Now, get the car on the road.”
For a moment he thought she was going to open her blouse and expose herself and all his brave talk. Perhaps she had enough sense to know that the car was too small. Anyhow, she started the motor and drove off.
“You’re bluffing,” she said. “I’m taking you to a hotel to find out. If after I get undressed, you tell me to get out, I’ll do so and never bother you again.”
“Like hell you will. Drive me to my hotel or I’ll take a goddamn taxi.”
“Afraid?” she hissed.
“Not of you running bare assed around a room, but I am of complications and you are a headache if ever I saw one. Now shut up and take me to my hotel.”
When the car pulled up, he got out quickly. “Keith,” she called. He bent down to the window, drawing in his breath at her beauty. “I’ll bet that one day you will make love to me. And for the rest of your life, you’ll never forget it.”
Then she slipped the car into gear and sped off.
He stood for a moment at the curb, watching the taillights fade, wondering if the fire in his loins would allow him to get to sleep that night.
CHAPTER 5
The following day, Masters took a taxi to Kimiko’s office. It was a modern, white brick building, three stories high, in a less commercialized section, but still high caliber. He saw the same Japanese characters on the front as was on her main store, and it struck him that he had seen the same characters on another store en-route. That must have been another one of her chain. As he entered, a receptionist promptly rose and bowed. A quick glance of that floor showed eight or nine women working on books and invoices, and three cubicles along one wall for more women on phones - apparently buyers.
From the receptionist’s eagerness to lead him up a flight of stairs, it was obvious that he was expected. The next floor had nine or ten women on sewing machines, and racks of women’s wear along the rear. It seemed as though Kimiko was making some items especially for her own chain. The third floor was ultra modern, glass-enclosed offices for other workers, and ceiling high leather doors leading into a large office at the rear. Two men were seated in the entry, apparently waiting to speak with someone.
The receptionist turned Masters over to a tall, slender woman, evidently Kimiko’s secretary, who unobtrusively pressed a button while rising to bow.
Kimiko came out at once, and even across the room he could see an unusual brightness in her eyes. She bowed, then led him into her office. It was twice the size of the one in her store, of chrome and leather, with shelves filled with catalogues. Once inside, she kissed him lightly on the lips.
“Say,” he exclaimed. “What a place you have. And what gives with the kiss?”
She guided him to leather sofa and sat down beside him. “I thought of you most of last night,” she confessed, “and I was glad to see you again.”
Masters chuckled.
“Would you like to eat here in the office?” she asked.
“I’ve no objection, but one of these days I’ll have to start paying for my meals instead of sponging on you.”
“You are not imposing, Keith. I enjoy it. And it is foolish to pay restaurant prices if you do not have to. My girls have a kitchen downstairs, and it is no trouble to cook a meal.”
He looked at her again, and it struck him what a helleva women she was, not just because she was watching out for his pocketbook, or that she might someday end up in bed with him, but by virtue of the unquestionable honesty and warmth which she exuded.
He rose. “I’ll be right back.”
He strode out of the office, down the two flights of stairs, and walked a couple of blocks until he came to a flower shop he had passed on the way to the office. There he purchased a small bouquet. The smiles of the receptionist and secretary became broad grins as, red faced, he went by them up the stairs and back into
the office. Without a word he handed Kimiko the bouquet, suddenly aware of the fact that it was the first time in his life he had ever given flowers to a woman.
Although Japan was a country of flower giving, to her the silent gesture seemed significant. She gazed long and hard at him. “These have a special meaning, haven’t they, Keith?” she finally said.
“Just a gift,” he answered, beginning to feel a little foolish.
Her eyes remained steadfast. “You don’t have to court me to prove anything.”
“I’ll try not to, then.”
A thoughtful smile played around her lips as she went to a bookcase, opened a door at the bottom, and took out a slender, exquisite vase, filled it with water, and slowly arranged the flowers. “They are very beautiful. You have chosen well,” she told him.
He sat down. “This romance business is reserved strictly for kids,” he said flatly. He reached out a stubby forefinger to the perfectly arranged flowers and pushed one of them out of line. “Leave them like this,” he ordered. “Everything in the world is a little cock eyed anyhow.”
Her eyes were still smiling as she left the office to order their lunch.
When they finished eating, she motioned to the sofa. “Why don’t you lie down and rest a while?”
“I’m not tired,” he objected. “Look, this heart business hasn’t made an invalid of me. I’m just as good as the next guy. I’m just not supposed to mix cement or carry pianos upstairs.”
Within a few minutes he learned that the stories about Japanese women being docile were strictly rumors. She brooked no argument. Soon his jacket was hanging in the closet and he was lying on the couch with a western style pillow under his head.
“This book,” she said, taking a bound volume from a drawer, “says that you should rest after meals.”
“When did you become a medical expert?”
“This morning,” she replied with a grin. “What do you have?”
“Angina pectoris.”
“Where are your pills what do you call them?”
“Nitroglycerine. In my jacket pocket.”
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