by Vincent Yee
That’s when Aiko flipped out her credit card and driver’s license toward Kendra, who looked a bit surprised. But she processed the transaction and issued Aiko her business-class boarding pass.
Aiko then met Ruth, who was waiting to expedite Aiko through the airport security check. “You look a lot better, dear,” she said.
“I do feel better now. I was just so worried that I wouldn’t be on that flight,” Aiko replied.
“Everything will be all right now, dear. Now hurry along, you have like five minutes but I called ahead and they’re waiting for you at the gate.”
Aiko gave Ruth a hug and walked to the security checkpoint. She dropped her purse into the round container, stepped out of her shoes and placed them right behind her purse. She walked through the metal detector without alarming it. Aiko stepped back into her shoes, grabbed her purse by the strap and made her way down to the gate. As it turned out, it was the very last gate at the very far end of the terminal. Aiko ran down to the deserted end of the terminal area and saw a lone figure. She was a slender young white woman with past the shoulder length dark brown hair. She was quite beautiful, and she couldn’t have been more than Aiko’s age. She looked up with her soft brown eyes and asked, “Aiko Satoh?”
Aiko answered in exasperation with her boarding pass in hand, “Yes, that’s me.”
“Oh you poor dear, I heard what happened.” The woman, whose nametag read Renee, processed her boarding pass and handed back the stub to Aiko. Renee looked up soulfully with her brown eyes, trying to sympathize with her. Aiko suddenly felt a tremendous sense of guilt for her ruse. “Thank you,” she said appreciatively.
Aiko quickly strolled down the boarding ramp and tried to catch her breath. She had made it, she thought. Suddenly, some other thoughts alarmed Aiko. What if Joey had the flight time wrong and it wasn’t the right plane? Or what happened if Joey’s grandfather didn’t make it onto the plane for some strange reason? If Joey’s grandfather weren’t on the plane, how would she ever pay back the charge on her credit card on her teacher’s salary? How would Aiko recognize Joey’s grandfather on the plane? But she brushed her thoughts aside and firmly believed that Joey, the second grader, was right and that his grandfather was on the plane.
A flight attendant greeted Aiko and politely pointed out the empty aisle seat in business class to her. Aiko slowly walked into the business class cabin as its passengers were reading newspapers or sipping their complimentary drinks. Aiko peered down the aisle. She could only see the top of the passengers’ heads. People were still stowing away their luggage, giving Aiko a few more minutes. She passed her empty business class seat and made her way into the coach class cabin.
She walked up the aisle and slowly checked everyone’s faces. It wouldn’t be too difficult, she thought, to find a man with a Japanese face. Then for a moment, Aiko froze as she thought back to her grandmother’s experience. “My God, this was how they did it,” she thought. What Aiko was now doing unconsciously was exactly the same thing the government did to find the Japanese Americans and put them into those darned internment camps.
As she passed row 30, she saw him on the right in a window seat.
He was an older Japanese American man who still had a full head of hair, but it had turned white with some gray on the sides. He was slightly built and seemed very gentle. His face looked peaceful as he quietly stared out the window. Aiko suddenly felt a sense of nervousness creep over her as she steadied her walk up the aisle, placing her hand on each seat that she passed. He was only two rows away and oblivious to her approach. What would she say? How would she broach the topic with him?
Aiko reached the row and looked down at the man she firmly believed was Joey’s grandfather. She took in a deep breath and was about to address him when the woman next to him interrupted.
“Stewardess? Can you get me a pillow?”
She was a large white woman wearing a frumpy gray floral dress. She had large, fatty arms whose sagging cellulite wiggled every time she moved them. Thick plastic rimmed glasses magnified her Gotter-like eyes. She was wearing a pair of slippers and her calves were thick–what some in the Asian American community called “daikon legs.” Aiko was surprised that she could even fit in the seat. Joey’s grandfather turned and gave Aiko a curious look.
“Excuse me?” asked Aiko as she directed her attention to the woman.
“Can you get me a pillow?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t work here,” said Aiko.
“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. You just looked so pretty and proper I thought you were a stewardess.”
Aiko looked around quickly and saw that the other flight attendants had on a dark navy blue outfit with pinstripes. Aiko realized with embarrassment that she probably looked like a flight attendant herself with her dark navy suit.
“I’m sure someone will be here to help you shortly,” said Aiko politely who then looked at Joey’s grandfather. There was such a kind expression on his face as he simply watched Aiko.
“Excuse me sir,” Aiko said with a hint of nervousness.
He answered back in a friendly voice, “Yes?”
“Are you Mr. Tanaka?”
The man looked back and replied, “Yes, I am.”
Aiko felt her heart flutter for a moment and then said, “Mr. Tanaka, I’m Aiko.” Mr. Tanaka’s expression didn’t change.
“I’m your grandson’s school teacher,” she continued
Mr. Tanaka looked confused. “Is Joey in trouble?”
Aiko laughed softly. The situation must have been strange and awkward to him, too. Aiko felt a sense of embarrassment.
“Can you get a stewardess for me, miss?” said the woman next to Mr. Tanaka.
Aiko was somewhat annoyed as the woman was ruining this moment. Then another idea popped into her head. She held up the boarding pass stub in her right hand and stared down at the woman.
“I have a deal for you. I just purchased this business class ticket. I know they will probably have all the pillows you will ever need and every one of your whims will be taken care of. I’ll be willing to trade my seat for your seat.”
The woman simply looked up at Aiko with wide eyes. Suddenly, she unbuckled her belt, gathered her straw knit bag and got up from the seat. She pulled out her boarding pass stub and swapped it with Aiko’s and looked at Aiko, “No need to tell me twice, I know a deal when I see one. Business class, here I come!”
Aiko chuckled to herself as she saw the woman shuffling down the aisle, hips bumping into every single seat. Aiko settled into the seat and was taken aback by the residual warmth left by the woman. She buckled her seatbelt and pulled on it so it would fit her slender frame, and then turned to Mr. Tanaka. He looked bewildered.
“Is Joey okay?” he asked again.
Aiko immediately responded back reassuringly, “Oh yes, Joey is fine. He’s a wonderful student. You should be really proud of him.”
Mr. Tanaka let out a smile of relief. He looked back at Aiko curiously. “Well if Joey is okay, why is his teacher on this plane and not in class?”
Aiko looked at him just as the plane started to taxi toward the runway. The moment had finally arrived and she chose her words carefully. Aiko brushed her hair aside and took out the copy of Joey’s drawing. She spread it out over the armrest between herself and Mr. Tanaka. She looked back at Mr. Tanaka’s soulful eyes and pointed to the scene with him and her grandfather.
Mr. Tanaka looked down and an expression of recognition was reflected back in his face. “That’s Joey’s drawing,” he said. “I don’t understand.”
Aiko responded, “This scene here where you are kneeling over this soldier… is that you?”
Mr. Tanaka nodded his head and said, “Yes, that was me when I was in the war.”
“And the other man, his name wouldn’t by any chance be…” Aiko found she needed to pause for a moment to collect her thoughts and said, “Hiroshi Satoh?”
Mr. Tanaka looked up at her and his eyes had changed. There was
a sense of profoundness to them. He straightened up a bit in his seat and said with pride, “Yes, that’s Sergeant Hiroshi Satoh.”
It hit Aiko harder that she had expected. She was now face to face with the man who may have been with her grandfather during his last moments. Her grandmother had never mentioned that her grandfather was a sergeant in the army. Aiko then quelled her swelling emotions from taking over as she responded respectfully, “Mr. Tanaka, I’m Aiko Satoh. Hiroshi Satoh’s granddaughter.”
The plane’s wheels suddenly rumbled throughout the plane until it soared off into the air. An overwhelming sense of shock hit Mr. Tanaka. He looked down at the picture once more, then back into Aiko’s eyes. He gently reached out for her slender hand. He saw a familiarity in her as she smiled.
“You have your grandfather’s eyes,” said Mr. Tanaka with a smile. His expression turned to one of gratitude and somber reflection as he uttered the words, “Your grandfather saved my life.”
Aiko and Mr. Tanaka got over their awkward moment and the unplanned introduction. Mr. Tanaka was a gentle old man who looked at Aiko as if she were his own granddaughter. He admired her beauty and obvious determination and knew that her grandfather would have been so proud of her.
They had lowered the tray tables in front of them and as best they could, they spread out Joey’s drawing. She watched him hunch over the drawing as his eyes wandered. He told her that Joey had asked him for a story for class, and this was the story he decided to tell Joey that night. He wasn’t sure why he chose that particular story, since he rarely talked about his time during the war, but he felt he needed to. When Joey had brought him the drawing to see, it brought tears to his eyes. He was so surprised by Joey’s artistic talent and how it captured every important moment from his story.
The flight attendant asked if either of them wanted a drink. Aiko respectfully deferred to Mr. Tanaka, who asked simply for hot water. Though she hated the tea served on airlines, she asked for it anyways. The flight attendant passed a cup of hot water to Mr. Tanaka’s awaiting hands and Aiko folded back the drawing allowing the scene with her grandfather to peep through. She took her cup of hot water and the tea packet. She was about to open it up when she saw Mr. Tanaka reach into his coat pocket and produced a tea packet of his own.
Mr. Tanaka looked at her with amusement and said, “That American tea will kill you.”
Aiko laughed and looked back at Mr. Tanaka, who smiled back at her. He extended the tea packet to Aiko and asked, “Would you like one? It’s green tea.”
It was one of her favorite teas, but Aiko at first refused until he produced a second packet of green tea from his coat pocket. She then smiled and graciously accepted the packet from him. “Thank you, Mr. Tanaka,” said Aiko. Both Aiko and Mr. Tanaka tended to their tea and allowed it to steep. They both silently watched, as if participating in a ritual, as the tealeaves started to slowly expand out like green tendrils. They both sipped their tea and placed their cups back down.
Aiko stared at her cup as the steam slowly rose out of it. She had both of her hands wrapped gently around it and could feel its gentle warmth pass to her palms. It was a calming sensation as she pondered the next few moments.
“You must be Ichiro’s daughter,” Mr. Tanaka said, breaking the silence.
Aiko looked up and replied, “Yes, I am.”
“Your grandfather was so happy when he found out his wife gave birth. He said it gave him everything to look forward to.”
“So, he knew that my grandmother had given birth?” asked Aiko.
“Yes, he did. He was very happy but even more shocked to find out in a letter from his wife that she was pregnant at all.”
“Did you know my grandfather well?”
“Yes, I knew him very well. We served in the same battalion and company, your grandfather and I.”
Aiko sat there, knowing that in the next five to six hours, she would get a glimpse into her grandfather’s life that no one else in her family had heard. Finally, she simply asked, “Mr. Tanaka, can you tell me as much as you can about my grandfather?”
Mr. Tanaka took another sip of tea and placed the cup down as the steam started to slowly rise upward. He stared ahead and exhaled lightly. “I think it’s the least that I can do for my best friend’s granddaughter. I guess I can start with the first day I met him.”
N I N E T E E N
“Today! I’ve been given the task to train you to serve in the United States Army!” barked the drill sergeant. “But when I look at all of you, all I see are a bunch of sorry-ass cry babies who would rather piss in their pants and go back home to their mommies. I actually declined this assignment until I was ordered to. So here I am to teach you how to be a United States soldier. And I find this ironic because we’re fighting Japs and now I have to train Japs to be in the United States Army.”
From Day 1, Hiroshi disliked the drill sergeant and his obvious disdain for the Japanese American soldiers who volunteered to be part of the 442nd. He was a man in his late thirties, with a weathered look on his pit-bull-like face. He had a stocky build and was about an inch taller than Hiroshi. The green army uniform moved with every flex of his muscles. He marched up and down the line intimidatingly, which was intended to command absolute attention from the Japanese American volunteers, who he didn’t seem to care for much. Hiroshi was growing tired of the drill sergeant’s insinuation he was training the enemy. He whispered underneath his breath, “Japanese Americans.”
The drill sergeant’s keen hearing spun him around. “Who said that?” he barked.
He marched back to the other end of the line and stared at two soldiers, Hiroshi Satoh and Peter Tanaka. Peter was shaking in his boots as he stood next to Hiroshi. There were already beads of sweat pouring down the sides of his temples. He was about two inches shorter than Hiroshi and he had a slighter build than him. The drill sergeant first stared deeply into Peter’s eyes, seemingly drilling into his brains. Peter maintained his nervous gaze and held his ground.
“Nah, it wasn’t you,” as the drill sergeant pulled back slowly. Then he walked over to Hiroshi and stared into his eyes but Hiroshi met his gaze and his eyes were unfazed. The drill sergeant pulled back slowly and said, “It was you who made that remark, wasn’t it?”
Hiroshi stammered back, “Yes, Sir.”
“I don’t think the entire company heard you, why don’t you tell everyone what you said,” asked the drill sergeant in a condescending manner.
“I said,” as Hiroshi prepared to shout loudly and affirmatively. “We’re Japanese Americans, not Japs, Sir!”
The drill sergeant then barked back, “You are whatever I say you are, Private!”
Hiroshi paused but didn’t flinch from his stare as he responded, “Beg to differ, Sir. We all signed the Loyalty Questionnaire, we are not Japs.”
“That damn bureaucratic piece of paper isn’t good enough to wipe my ass with, Private!” Warm and putrid spit flew from the drill sergeant’s mouth onto Hiroshi’s face.
“No Sir! We are Japanese Americans,” answered an insistent Hiroshi. Other soldiers turned their eyes nervously to look in Hiroshi’s direction to see who the imbecile was to mock the drill sergeant on the first day of training. But Hiroshi would not allow anyone to call him a “Jap.” He did not leave his family and his wife to be called the same name as the enemy.
The drill sergeant stared at Hiroshi. “A defiant son of a bitch aren’t you, Private? Maybe there are some guts in all of you after all, or at least a few of ya.” The drill sergeant slowly surveyed the faces of the rest of the men who were standing at attention. “Maybe you’re not all yellow bellied cowards after all. Okay, I’ll tell you what, I’ll stop calling you Japs but if any one of you doesn’t make it through training, then you’re all Japs. Is that understood!”
The entire company responded in unison, “Yes Drill Sergeant!”
The drill sergeant then redirected his attention back to Hiroshi and looked down at his name badge. “Private Satoh,
get on the ground and give me twenty.”
Hiroshi paused but respectfully got down and gave the drill sergeant twenty push-ups.
“Tomorrow, we will begin our first real day of combat training at o six hundred hours and separate the men from the women. Welcome to the United States Army. Dismissed,” shouted the drill sergeant.
Everyone dropped their shoulders, relaxed, and let out a sigh of relief. Peter turned to Hiroshi. “That was really brave of you.”
Hiroshi looked at Peter and replied, “What do you mean?”
“The way you handled the drill sergeant and talked back to him.”
“That was nothing, really. He was testing us to see if we would stand up for ourselves,” said Hiroshi casually.
“He was? Boy I didn’t even think about that. I was just so nervous, all I could do was stand here.”
“Yeah, it’s an old trick. When men want to size up other men, they act all tough and then humiliate you until you stand up for yourself. It’s how you gain their respect.”
“Oh man. I must have looked like a coward, then,” said Peter, kicking the ground in frustration.
“Don’t worry about it. Like he said, we just have to get through training and then we’ll be fine.”
“I hope so. Oh, I’m Peter Tanaka,” Peter said as he extended his hand forward.
Hiroshi took Peter’s hand and introduced himself, “Hiroshi, Hiroshi Satoh.”
Just then a voice came from the back, “Home Run!”
Hiroshi looked over and saw Kenji Yasuda, Miho’s friend from the prison camp. Hiroshi smiled at the nineteen-year-old and shook his hand warmly.
“Kenji! How are you doing?” asked Hiroshi.
“I’m doing good! It looks like we’re in the same company. My brother was assigned to a different one. They don’t let brothers serve together in the same company to minimize multiple deaths in the same family.”
“I see,” said Hiroshi. “Oh by the way, this is Peter Tanaka, he’s in the same company too. Peter, meet Kenji Yasuda. We’re from the same camp.”