After Darkness

by Christine Piper

  ‘We started a baseball competition within camp to keep fit and pass the time. I have enjoyed the games, although I’m not the player I once was. The final match is tomorrow, but my team didn’t make it that far. Give my regards to Megumi and her family—Hanako must have started school by now.’

  After lunch, the wind was still gusting. Dirt stung my eyes as I returned to my hut from the mess hall. Knowing there were only a few more hours left of daylight, I decided to brave the conditions and head to the altar garden. I reasoned it would take only a few minutes to check on the plants. As I made my way between the buildings, an icy wind tore at the collar of my jacket and stirred up eddies of dust. It hadn’t rained in months. Leaves cascaded from trees at the edge of the clearing and blew into camp. I wrapped my arms around my body and bent my head as I stepped into the wind.

  The altar occupied a space along the outer fence of our compound, about forty feet from the last row of huts. It was in the most isolated area of camp, away from the mess hall and latrines. Its seclusion was the reason it had been chosen for the altar—it was a suitable place for quiet reflection.

  I emerged from the shelter of the buildings into the open space of the garden, and was hit by the full force of the wind. I would normally have been able to see the buildings of the duty guard camp beyond the outer fence, but today a rust-coloured pall of dust obscured the landscape. The vegetable garden spread out to my left; to my right was the ornamental garden. As I approached the bamboo thicket that marked the start of the garden, I heard the rustle of dry leaves beneath the howl of the wind. I stepped past the thicket and clucked my tongue at the state of the garden on the other side. It was swamped with loose soil. Although the bamboo shielded the plants from the wind, it also allowed piles of dirt to collect. The purple grasses I’d planted were covered, only their brown tips poking through the earth. Although I knew the weather would worsen, I couldn’t help myself. I crouched down, and with my hands started shovelling away the debris. I looked around for some rocks to build a screen around the grasses.

  Voices reached me from upwind, too faint to decipher. As I dragged a rock from the other end of the garden, the voices came closer, speaking in low tones. Their words became so clear I realised they must have been standing on the other side of the bamboo thicket, no more than three feet away from me. I recognised the speakers.

  ‘. . . Hayashi thinks he’s going to report it soon,’ Yamada said. ‘The doctor’s been in there with a pen and paper, writing everything down. What should we do?’

  I crouched by the grasses, hardly breathing.

  ‘Who else saw?’ Mori said.

  ‘Nagano and a few others, but I doubt they’d say anything.’

  ‘So it’s our word against his,’ Mori said. ‘Given his recent mental state, I doubt the army will do anything.’

  ‘What if he lodges a complaint with the Red Cross? Dr Morel is due to visit in a few weeks.’

  ‘Dr Morel has to go through the regular army channels. They have better things to worry about than a petty dispute that led to a bruised arm.’

  I had had my suspicions, but now I knew it was true: Yamada had attacked Stan. I had initially been blinded by the fact that Yamada was kind to me, and because he was a leader of our camp. What else, through my misguided loyalty, had I failed to see?

  The wind picked up, whining as it whipped between the bushes. For a moment I thought they had moved away from the garden, as I could no longer hear them. Then I heard Yamada again. His voice reached me in fragments, shredded by the wind. ‘. . . don’t want to be investigated . . . lose my spot on the exchange ship . . . something more permanent?’

  A pause. Then I heard Mori, his gruff voice muffled by the rustling of leaves. ‘No. Too risky . . . too suspicious.’

  Neither of them spoke for a few moments. Then Yamada started speaking again. I could hardly hear what he said, but there was a pleading, desperate quality to his voice I had never heard before. He mentioned Stan several times, and something about the infirmary. Then I heard my own name. I strained to make out what he was saying, but the wind was howling, and I caught only a few words.

  ‘. . . don’t think he would say anything . . . can’t risk Suzuki telling . . . We need to tell Hayashi . . . without delay . . . No one will ever guess.’

  A gust blew sideways, driving dirt into my face. I covered my mouth to keep myself from making a sound. One of them started coughing, and their voices became faint as they moved away from the bamboo thicket.

  My chest pounded as I tried to make sense of what I’d heard. Yamada wanted to silence Stan, mistakenly believing that I was writing down the incident in which he was attacked by Yamada so that Stan could report it to the army. What had he said? Sassoku, without delay. But as I repeated it in my head, I realised he could have said sassozai, rat poison, instead. ‘We need to tell Hayashi . . . rat poison . . . no one will ever guess.’ Did Yamada intend to poison Stan? My heart skipped a beat as I remembered seeing a packet of rat poison in one of the cupboards in the infirmary kitchen. The authorities must have forgotten about it when they confiscated the other packets in the wake of the New Caledonian’s death. I gazed at the grasses before me, still covered in earth, and the measly stone barrier I had started to build. Despite my efforts, everything was in ruins. Why could I never do anything right?

  Images crowded my mind. Stan, all alone within the kaleidoscope of sheets. Kayoko in the hallway, her luggage at her feet. It was all so clear to me now: somehow, I always failed the people I cared about. I remembered that Hayashi was working at the infirmary over the next two days. Hayashi, who must have been reporting my every move to Yamada. I had thought he was being kind when he’d insisted on doing my shift. Perhaps he and Yamada had already hatched a plan to hurt Stan. I had to warn Stan before it was too late. I would tell Johnny—he could help. McCubbin trusted him. I had to get to the infirmary. As long as I got to the infirmary in time, everything would be all right.

  I hurried back, taking the long route along the perimeter fence so it wouldn’t appear as if I’d come from the altar. I didn’t want to run into Mori or Yamada. The wind tore at my hair and drove grit into my eyes. I squinted through the haze.

  I went straight to Johnny’s hut. The building shook as I ran up the stairs. Most of the gang were in the back corner, lounging on their beds. Martin and Andy were playing cards. Charlie read a magazine.

  ‘Johnny, where’s Johnny?’ I gasped.

  Charlie shrugged. ‘Dunno. Went somewhere to blow off some steam. I hope he pisses off for good, the way he carried on at lunch. You’d think he’d found out his family had been murdered, not that he had to stay here.’

  ‘I need to talk to him. It’s important.’

  Martin looked up from his game. ‘I’d leave him for a while. You saw how he was this morning.’

  ‘You don’t understand. It’s urgent. Do you know where he is?’

  ‘Your guess is as good as ours,’ Charlie said. ‘Could be anywhere.’

  ‘Try the mess hall or the rec hut,’ Martin said.

  I staggered outside. With one hand over my mouth and my eyes narrowed against the dust, I checked both locations, but couldn’t find him. I didn’t see Yamada or Mori either. Perhaps Yamada had already gone to talk to Hayashi at the infirmary? I realised I had to act immediately, with or without Johnny’s help.

  With the collar of my jacket upturned, I stumbled towards the entrance to our compound. In the distance, plumes of dust churned and swallowed the sky. A sentry was usually posted at the gate at all times, but in the thick air I couldn’t see anyone standing there.

  I clung to the wire. ‘Excuse me? Hello? Any guards there?’

  I heard the crunch of gravel, and a figure emerged from the haze. He walked with his rifle on his shoulder, cradling the butt in his hand, as if he was on parade. As the guard neared, I realised I had never seen him before. The brim of his cap sat low, hiding most of his face. All I could see was the cleft of his chin and the purple p
ocks of recent acne.

  ‘Please, I need to go to the infirmary. Could you let me out?’

  ‘Halt!’ His voice was cold.

  ‘I need to go to the infirmary in 14B. I’m an orderly. I have to go there now. There’s an emergency.’

  ‘State your name.’

  ‘Tomokazu Ibaraki. From hut five.’

  ‘No internees allowed out. Major’s orders.’ A muscle fluttered along his jaw.

  ‘I just need to go for ten minutes. It’s an emergency. I’m a doctor—please.’

  ‘A doctor now, are you?’ His lip curled. ‘No internees can exit—that’s an order.’

  ‘Is Officer McCubbin there? Could I speak to him?’

  ‘Officer McCubbin is on patrol at another camp at the moment. He’s not available.’

  ‘Please, this is not a joke. I need to go to the infirmary!’ I rattled the gate in frustration.

  In one swift move, the guard swung his rifle to his hip and aimed it at me. ‘Step back, you bloody Jap! One more move like that and I’ll shoot, I swear to God.’

  I raised my hands and stepped back. The guard’s knuckles were white as they gripped the stock; his finger trembled on the trigger.

  I swallowed. ‘I am not lying. It really is an emergency . . .’

  ‘Move back from the gate now, or I’ll blast you.’

  I backed away from the gate, my arms still raised. Then I turned and ran to my hut, my entire body jolting with each step. When I burst in, everyone in the room turned to stare at me.

  ‘Has anyone seen Johnny Chang?’

  A few people shook their heads.

  ‘Sensei, are you all right?’ Ebina asked.

  Without responding, I ran back outside. I searched the compound once more, skirting the perimeter of camp—steering clear of the gate and the hostile guard—checking the ablutions block, the latrines, even the foul-smelling spot beneath the latrines where sake was brewed, and then a few of the huts. But Johnny was nowhere to be found. Feeling helpless, I spent the rest of the afternoon crossing between the mess hall and Johnny’s hut, my panic growing with each hour.

  Just after five o’clock, we assembled for afternoon headcount in the mess hall, where we always gathered in poor weather. The wind blustered outside, shuddering against the building and rattling the windows. I stood behind my allocated seat, my mind a jumble of thoughts and fears. I spied Mori at his table a few rows away from me.

  Yamada sauntered in, talking to Ebina about the baseball match. ‘I’m betting on the Borneo team. They’ve practised more and have good strategy. Of course, as a fellow Japanese from that region, I’m biased.’

  As I stared at his broad face, my stomach tightened. I wondered how I had been so deceived by him. I craned my neck, looking for Johnny. His position between Ernie and Martin at the front of the room was empty. If he failed to show up at headcount, he’d be severely penalised. But moments before the officers marched into the hall to start the count, Johnny suddenly appeared at his table. His hair stood in stiff peaks and his shirt was streaked with dirt. Martin whispered something to him, but Johnny didn’t respond; he just stared straight ahead.

  Major Locke entered the room, wearing a heavy overcoat that dwarfed the rest of his body. Three officers filed in after him and stood to attention in front of the entrance to the kitchen. Lieutenant Perry was first in line, followed by the new interpreter, who’d arrived at camp a few weeks previously. The guard I’d encountered at the gate was the last to enter. He thrust out his lower jaw as his eyes roamed the room. His rifle strap stretched taut across his chest. I ducked my head to avoid his gaze.

  Locke rarely came to the afternoon headcount, so his arrival didn’t bode well for the next day’s baseball match. Perhaps it was the effect of the dust outside, but strain seemed to show in the creases around his eyes.

  ‘Before we start the headcount, I have several important announcements to make. First, I’d like to introduce our new guard, Private Davies, who will be assisting with the patrol of the compound. Until recently he was serving in New Guinea, where I believe many of you are from.’ Locke nodded at the private, who pursed his lips. His shoulders were rigid as he continued to scan our faces.

  ‘Second, due to weather conditions, tomorrow’s baseball match will not go ahead as planned. The game will be postponed—’ Locke raised his voice as cries of discontent rose from those who had understood him ‘—the game will be postponed until further notice. Furthermore, all outdoor activity is banned until the dust storm clears. No walking around the perimeter, no loitering outside, no hanging around the gate. It is for your own safety. Guards have been instructed to enforce this rule. Any internee who disobeys will be severely punished. Is that clear? Quiet now. Settle down. I said quiet!’

  After the interpreter had delivered the message, disbelief spread among the tables of men. The army had recently introduced a rule that no more than six men per hut could be at the latrines at the same time at night, but other than that, we’d always been given a relatively free rein within camp. I wondered why they’d suddenly introduced such harsh restrictions.

  A voice growled over the hum of dismay. ‘This is bullshit.’ It was Johnny.

  Locke swivelled his head. ‘Mr Chang, another comment like that and you’ll be in detention overnight.’

  ‘What? First the tribunal, then you cancel the match, and now we can’t even go outside?’

  For his sake, I prayed he would stop.

  ‘Chang, I’m warning you . . .’ Locke’s face was red.

  Private Davies stepped forward and aimed his rifle at Johnny. ‘Watch your mouth, you filthy Jap.’

  Johnny drew himself up tall. ‘Yeah? You want to shoot me? Want to claim another Jap?’

  ‘Davies! There’s no need for that. Lower your weapon.’ Locke pushed the muzzle away. He eyed the private for a moment before turning back to address us. ‘As I was saying, aside from walking to your huts or to the latrines or ablutions block, internees are not permitted to linger outside until further notice. Hut leaders, please make sure everyone understands this. There will be serious consequences if anyone breaks this rule.’

  After the officers had completed the headcount and filed out of the hall, a rumble of consternation filled the room. ‘Why the sudden change? Why now?’ I heard someone say.

  Instead of joining the conversation, I headed straight to Johnny. He was almost at the door when I caught up to him. I called his name but he didn’t turn around.

  ‘Johnny, it’s me.’ I touched his shoulder.

  He spun around. ‘Don’t you dare touch me.’

  I sucked in my breath. I’d never seen him so incensed. His eyes bulged. His nostrils flared. A vein at his temple pulsed.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  He looked around the room. ‘I fucking hate this place. I’m so sick of it. All I want to do is get out. I don’t care anymore, I don’t care what it takes.’

  I tried to soothe him. ‘Don’t worry. You will leave eventually. You will go back to Broome, and everyone there will welcome you with open arms. And in a few years’ time, you will think about camp, and the pain will have gone.’

  ‘I feel like I’m going to explode if I stay here any longer.’

  Although I felt sorry for him, there was no time for counsel. ‘Johnny, I need your help with something. But I can’t talk about it here.’ I glanced behind me. Yamada was sitting at the table, about to eat dinner. ‘Can we go to your hut?’

  Johnny shook his head. ‘Sorry, Doc. I’ve got my own problems to deal with.’ He turned and started in the direction of his hut.

  ‘Johnny, wait!’

  He ignored me, disappearing into the gloom.

  I looked behind me again. Yamada brought a spoonful of stew to his mouth, then laughed at something, tipping his head back. His casual cruelty disgusted me; there he was, eating and laughing, when he had just plotted to harm somebody—possibly even murder him. I would not let him hurt Stan.

  I returned to my
hut alone. Night had descended by the time I stepped outside. The floodlights shone diffusely through the haze. The air churned around me, thicker than before. Particles invaded my mouth and nose. I covered my face and squinted till I could see only a sliver of light. In the howling wind I couldn’t even hear my own footsteps. I was careful not to veer towards the fence; Major Locke’s warning was fresh in my mind.

  The wall of a hut glowed starkly in the strange light. I hugged its side and continued past another hut until I came to mine. I hauled myself up the steps and into the sanctuary inside. I switched on the light. Rows of empty beds stretched away from me. I sighed with relief. Silence, at last.

  I paced the hut, walking up and down the rows of beds as I tried to make sense of the situation. Had Yamada talked to Hayashi already, or had he too been stopped at the gate by Davies? If I hadn’t been allowed out, it was unlikely Yamada would have been. Could he have sent a message through someone else? I thought of Stan lying in bed, his face turned towards the window, dreaming of Isabelle. Somehow I had to get to the infirmary and arrange for Stan to be moved somewhere safe. His condition had improved noticeably in the past week; perhaps I could recommend he be moved to the ward at headquarters, away from Hayashi.

  I heard voices outside. The hut shook as people mounted the steps. The door was flung open, and the first of the men returning from dinner spilled inside. Dirt blew into the room as they stamped their feet, muttering about the weather.

  ‘Sensei, you didn’t eat?’ one of the men from Borneo said.

  I shook my head. ‘I’m not feeling well. Just a stomach ache. I’ll be fine.’

  I sat on my bed to consider my options. I had to face the fact that I had no way of getting to the infirmary and no one to help me; Johnny had refused and McCubbin was in a different part of the camp. There was no other choice: I would have to confront Yamada.

  The hut grew noisy as more people returned from dinner. The weather had made everyone boisterous. Each time the door opened, the roar of the wind swelled and more dust blew inside.