Fathers

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Fathers Page 25

by David J. Daniel


  Konosu’s arms started to drop again.

  Doug spoke again without waiting for a reply. “Tell ya what. I’m startin’ ta feel a little sorry for ya now. I mean I can’t expect ya ta keep ya arms up like that all day can I? Nah, that would be cruel. Inhumane in fact. I’m goin’ ta let ya place ‘em on ya head. Yep, go on do it, place ‘em on ya head, get comfortable. That’s it. That’s better eh? Now, ta show ya that I’m not a bad bloke at all, I’m goin’ ta let ya sit. Can ya believe that? I’m goin’ ta let ya sit. Don’t have ta mind you, many wouldn’t. But I will, ‘cause it’s all about being fair and I don’t want anyone sayin’ that I’m not fair. So take a seat. Go on sit down, why don’t ya.” And Konosu with his hands on his head went to sit by the fire.

  “NOT THERE!” Screamed Doug and Konosu jumped up again and stood straight like the soldier he was, coming to attention. “Over there. I want ya ta sit over there,” he said quietly, as he gestured with the rifle, pointing it towards the creek.

  “Here?” Asked Konosu as he stood near the water.

  “In it!”

  “What do you mean ‘in it’?” Asked Konosu a little baffled.

  “In the damn creek, boy!” Ordered Doug.

  “You want me to sit in the water?”

  “Yup. And if you’re not sittin’ in there in five seconds, I’M GOING TO BLOW YOUR FUCKIN’BRAINS OUT!”

  Konosu quickly sat in the creek, plonked down hard in fact, hurting himself as he tried to sit without taking his hands off his head. And he confirmed in his mind what he already knew. That he was dealing with a person who was completely insane, a madman.

  “Stretch out those legs. Re-lax, go on take it easy while I sit here by the fire and roll meself a smoke,” chuckled Doug, as he lay the rifle across his legs and got out his tobacco. He really was enjoying himself now.

  Konosu started to shiver as the icy water seeped through his clothes. It felt like it bypassed his skin to enter his bones and freeze the marrow, deep therein. He watched as Akuma lit his cigarette, inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs, then let it stream out in a loud satisfied ‘Ahh’.

  “Ya can’t beat a good smoke I tell ya,” said Doug as he smiled at Konosu. “Do you smoke? No? Not that I could let ya have one if ya did. ‘Cause I need ya hands on ya head at all times okay? Good. Now where was I? What was I askin’ ya before? That’s right, ya plans. What you was hopin’ ta do with ya life, now that you found yourself to be a free man?” He asked as he sniggered to himself.

  “I I dddon’t knnnow,” Konosu stammered, as the cold set off a chattering in his teeth.

  “Ya don’t know. Ya dddon’t knnnow. Well that’s not the answer I was lookin’ for my slant eyed little friend.” Doug dragged on his cigarette before continuing. “You wanna know what I think? No? Well, I’ll tell ya anyway. What I think, is that you were just settin’ yourself up here first, gettin’ ya strength before ya started killin’ us in our homes. Sneakin’ in there at night and murderin’ us while we lay in our beds. That’s how you bastards do it, don’t ya? Kill anyone, wouldn’t ya. Women and children, it makes no difference. Kill ‘em all. They’re all the same to ya, aren’t they?.”

  Konosu’s teeth were chattering loudly and uncontrollably and his body was shaking with the cold. The lower half of his body had gone numb, his skin was turning blue and he was finding it difficult to concentrate on what this madman was saying. His head sagged to his chest and he closed his eyes. He was starting to feel tired, really quite sleepy and he just wanted it all to be over, one way or the other.

  Doug continued. “What really gets on my goat though. What really pisses me off. WHAT REALLY MAKES ME FUCKIN’ ANGRY IS THAT YOU WERE EATING MY FOOD AND WEARING MY COAT AND SLEEPING UNDER MY TARP AND USING MY AXE. AND YOU WERE GETTIN’ ALL OF THIS STUFF BROUGHT TO YOU BY MY BOY!” The volume of his tirade increased in volume until he was screaming again at Konosu.

  Konosu jerked out of his stupor and his eyes and mouth flew open. He tried to speak. “Yyyyooouuu arrrre DDDDDouggg?”

  “Why yes I am rice brain. Has Jack told you about me? All good I hope. I’d hate for him to give you the wrong impression of me.” He chuckled. “Anyway, enough chit-chat. Time to get you movin’ again. Can’t have ya dyin’ on me, can I?” He stood and flicked the butt into the fire. He walked closer to the creek and motioned with his rifle for Konosu to stand. “C’mon get yourself up before your dick falls off. You’re comin’ with me.”

  Konosu tried to stand without taking his hands from his head but it was impossible. He looked at Doug and pleaded with his eyes. Finally he stammered “IIII ccccaaaannnn’ttttt.”

  “Aw, silly me. Of course ya can’t stand. Not without ya hands ta help ya up. Go on. Just this once. Ya can take your hands off your head just till you’re up. Then they go straight back on. And don’t try anything that’ll get ya shot.”

  Konosu took his hands slowly off his head and warily watched Doug, as he half expected to be shot in the process. He placed both hands in the bed of the creek in readiness to push himself up to his feet. In his right hand he quickly felt and grasped a suitable rock that fitted perfectly into his palm. His action went unnoticed as he wearily pushed himself up. He managed to make the whole exercise look more difficult than it actually was, even though he was weak and numb in his legs. He turned his back to Doug, trying to make it seem like a natural thing to do as he rose, keeping his right hand hidden from view.

  Doug watched him as he slowly came to his feet and said, ”Easy does it now, ya yellow monkey. Turn around now. Nice and slowly, and get those hands back on ya head!”

  Konosu started to turn and raise his hands at the same time. Suddenly, he spun around, a clumsy pirouette, and he threw out his right arm at full length, releasing the rock. It flew through the air striking Doug smack in the face, just below the left eye, cracking the cheek bone. He cried out in pain and shock, and threw up the rifle an instant after the rock had passed, in an attempt to fend it off. He pulled the trigger. The gun kicked in his hands as the bullet zipped past the ear of Konosu, so close he heard the lethal buzz of the projectile and the ‘WHACK’ as it hit a tree nearby. He fell back into the creek landing in a crouch on his hands and knees as his weakened legs failed to respond properly, in their frozen state. Doug recovered first and fumbled around in his pocket for another round. He could see Konosu trying to get to his feet and he rushed at him, before he could stand, and kicked him as hard as he could in the face, with his number tens. ‘SPLAT’ was the noise that was heard, as his boots connected with Konosu’s face. His nose flattened across his face, like a rotten tomato, the bones and cartilage destroyed as blood burst forth from inside the nostrils. Konosu collapsed face first into the creek, unconscious, his whole body going under. He awoke instantly as the cold water hit him again and revived him causing him to suck in a lungful of water. He threw himself on his back and coughed and spluttered to clear his lungs. Doug yanked down the lever of his rifle, rammed another round in the breach and slammed the lever shut. The rifle flew to his shoulder, the finger on the trigger, as Konosu’s head filled the sights.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  BOOM! The distant sound of a high powered gunshot echoed and rolled around the hills, like thunder. They were just about to come out onto the river flats. Jack, who was leading them down the ridge stopped, and turned to Wiremu behind him. “That was a rifle shot!” He said.

  “I know, and it sounded like it was coming from where Konosu is camped!” Replied Wiremu, excitedly.

  “Shit!” Said Jack.

  And they took off as quickly as they could, back towards the campsite.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  “Get up... GET UP!” Doug screamed. The rifle still at his shoulder. His eye still looking down the sights at his target.

  Konosu rolled over and tried to get to his feet again.

  “Get on your hands
and knees!” Ordered Doug as a large red contusion formed under his eye.

  Gingerly Konosu complied.

  “Now crawl towards me, nice and easy. I won’t miss a second time believe me.”

  He slowly crawled out of the creek, onto dry land, towards Doug, blood still streaming from his nose. Doug stepped backwards, keeping a safe distance, never taking his eye off him. Watching his hands, seeing nothing concealed. No stones, no weapons.

  “Okay, now stand!”

  And with great difficulty and pain, Konosu got to his feet and stood there before him, a broken man. Blood running into his mouth, dripping off his chin, trickling down his neck, staining his clothes. Water and blood leaking from his bedraggled body to form pink puddles at his feet. He hung his head in shame. His arms slack by his side. And shivered and coughed and sniffed.

  Doug yelled, “YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF CRAP. GET YOUR HANDS BACK ON YOUR HEAD. NOW!”

  Slowly Konosu lifted his hands to his head once more and interlocking his fingers rested them on his head. Doug lowered the rifle and held it at his hip, still pointing at Konosu’s gut.

  “Now, we’re goin’ ta walk outta here back to the road, and if ya give me any excuse, any reason whatsoever, to make me think you’re up to your dirty tricks again, I will shoot you stone dead. Do I make myself clear?”

  Silence.

  “DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

  Silence.

  “Right that’s it your dead.” And he raised the rifle to his shoulder and aimed it at Konosu’s head. He squeezed the trigger.

  Konosu didn’t move. He didn’t plead with Doug. In fact he didn’t say anything. The shaking had even stopped. He breathed normally, calmly. He stood exactly as he was and then he lifted his head and looked down the rifle barrel and met Doug’s eye - his aiming eye - and he glared at it. He was defiant and he was proud. He was a Japanese soldier, and he would die like a man not like some rat in a cage. He would not be leaving this spot alive. He knew that. He had accepted that. Welcomed it even. And Doug saw him staring at him with those hateful eyes and he thought, this was not going as he had planned. This was turning to shit in fact. He wanted to capture his prisoner alive. So that he could return him to the prison. So that the guards and the commandant at Wakeford would know they were wrong to dismiss him. That it was unjustified. Look, look what I have done, he would say. I have captured an enemy prisoner of war and I have not killed him or even seriously harmed him -as others wouldn’t hesitate to do - but I have returned him, safely and in one piece. Back to where he belongs. Safely locked away, away from the New Zealand public. And Doug would be seen as the great redeemer, the hero, the man that others would look up to and say ‘There goes Doug Brown, an all round good bloke. And did ya hear about how he captured a dangerous Jap prisoner single-handedly?’ And there would be stories told about him for years to come and parents would name their sons Douggie and fathers would want their sons to grow up just like Douglas Brown. And, and... Aw fuck it.

  He pulled the trigger.

  And the bullet hit Konosu’s forehead right in the centre and punched through the skin and bone. A small, seemingly insignificant hole in the front, a larger more substantial hole blown out the rear. Blood and brain tissue exploded out the back of his head spattering across the surface of the creek and up the bank on the other side. Konosu collapsed a full second after the shot was fired, as it took time for his body to register that it was dead. And like a spirit leaving the body, steam rose from the corpse as Doug approached it and gave it a kick, just to make sure it wasn’t going to attack him again. He looked into the face of Konosu and stared at his open eyes. He saw that the bold defiance was still there. Staring back at him. Like a photograph, it was captured in death. And it was an image that Doug would never forget. It was seared on his brain. And it would regularly keep him awake at night and continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  They arrived too late. Just as they were to climb the last rise before the campsite, the second gunshot was heard. It stopped them in their tracks. Jack turned to Wiremu but no words were spoken, nothing was needed to be said. It showed on their faces, the horror, the fear and the sorrow. They both knew that Konosu was dead. They hesitated, not sure what to do, frightened of what they would find. And then Jack turned again and started towards the camp. Wiremu grabbed his arm and urgently whispered, “Wait... Wait Jack! Let’s sneak up there. Go quietly. We don’t know what we may find.” Jack nodded and they crept the final few paces to a position overlooking the campsite. Hiding in the undergrowth they lay down and took in the scene before them.

  Doug sat in front of the body smoking a cigarette. He was whistling some sort of tune, a tune the boys didn’t recognise, it was off key and repetitive, the same few bars over and over again, stopping only to take a drag on his cigarette. He was staring, not at the body but straight ahead, over the top of the body, at the splattered gore on the far bank of the creek. He was motionless; the only movement was his hand coming to his mouth, bringing his cigarette back and forth. A shudder went through Jack’s body as he watched, transfixed and then involuntarily, his head dropped, his forehead coming to rest on his arm as his eleven year old mind tried to comprehend the situation. He felt sick. Thought he was about to hurl. But thankfully the nausea passed. And he tried to think. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t make up his mind whether to walk into the campsite and confront Doug; into a dangerous situation that could end up in more deaths, his or theirs, who would know? They both had rifles. Or, did he simply retreat? Walk away and pretend he didn’t see anything. Play the dumb kid. Plead ignorance. If he was ever confronted by Doug in the future about Konosu he could say he was just young and stupid and was conned by the Japanese prisoner. Forced to get him food and clothing and shelter. He hated thinking like this, felt as if he was betraying him, but Konosu was dead, he could see that from here, and Jack making a big deal over it would not help anyone. Not him, not Wiremu, not his mother and certainly not Konosu. He even thought if he kicked up a fuss, went and told someone in authority about what had happened here today, then he could be imprisoned. Wiremu and he could be locked up for aiding the enemy. Perhaps they would even be put in front of a firing squad and shot for betraying their country. For being dirty traitors. No one would understand their relationship, their friendship they had with Konosu. To them he was the enemy. Nothing more. And he deserved to be treated as such. Hell, who knows, they may even give Doug a medal for what he has done. For his bravery. Jack slowly lifted his head again as he tried to decide on the best course of action. Then, his decision was made for him as he watched Doug get to his feet and pick up the small axe from the fireplace. Both boys watched in utter horror, holding their breaths, unable to move, as Doug went back to the body of Konosu and began chopping it up, into manageable, easily hidden pieces.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  O

  n the 6th and on the 9th August 1945 an atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, respectively. As a direct result of the explosions, over 220,000 people died from their injuries by the end of 1945. Of course, many more would perish in the following years from radiation sickness and cancers and the like, because of the exposure to the radiation released by the bombs. This inevitably brought about the unconditional surrender of Japan on the 15th of August, with the formal surrender being signed on board the USS Missouri on the 2nd of September 1945. The war was over. And on that day of celebration Jack shed a tear for a forgotten soldier. Both he and Wiremu visited the abandoned campsite of Konosu’s and remembered their mate. They lit a fire and cooked crawlies and steamed open mussels and had a meal in honour of their fallen friend. Their murdered friend. They shook their heads at the irony that now, today, Konosu would not have been an enemy of this country anymore. And had he survived, and not been discovered by Doug it would’ve been only a matter of weeks from their meeting, that he could’ve walked out
of the New Zealand bush a free man. And they thought of Konosu’s family. Knowing that they had lived in Hiroshima, and they prayed that at least they had survived the blast of those new and terrifying bombs. For the boys had no idea at the time of the devastation and destruction of life that those two bombs would continue to inflict on their victims. Nor did they have any idea that Konosu’s lover Kiyomi, and his family, were no more. That they had been wiped from the face of the earth; vaporised in the nuclear explosion.

  When Doug arrived home that night after murdering Konosu and then chopping his body up and hiding it in various places in the bush, he was absolutely exhausted and covered in dirt and blood. He had a huge bruise below his eye and Ellen fussed over him and asked what had happened. He told her that he had shot a deer and had approached it with the idea of skinning it, when it suddenly reared up knocked him over. It hit him in the face, just below the eye, causing the painful bruise and swelling. And even though it was pumping out blood, spraying it all over him in fact, it still ran off and he had a terrible time tracking it down. Of course he could’ve just let it go and not bothered with it, but he wasn’t like that. Anyone who knew him would tell you that he doesn’t like to see an animal suffer. He would find that deer and put it out of its misery, no matter what. Hell, he wouldn’t sleep at night knowing that there was a poor wounded animal out there suffering. So he tracked it for hours and hours, never running out of patience, until finally, he saw it standing there, gasping its last breath. And it was really suffering and it was in terrible pain. So he shot it again. A better shot this time and the animal dropped, instantly dead. The only problem was that unfortunately it was standing on a cliff edge, and when he shot it, over it went. Fell all the way to the bottom and landed dead in the river below. Well, that was the end of that. It floated away, disappeared round a bend and for all he knew it could’ve reached the bloody sea by now! He explained all this and then shrugged and held out his dirty, bloodstained palms as if to say, ‘Ah well, that’s life!’

 

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