The Purple Heart

by Vincent Yee

  Peter then saw Hiroshi’s face through the hole in the wall with the rifle aimed at his direction. The Nazi officer suddenly made for his holstered gun but Peter recovered and steadied the rifle at him. The Nazi officer had only lifted the flap and stopped when he knew his attempt would be futile.

  “Make my day, asshole,” Peter said.

  T W E N T Y F I V E

  “Your grandfather saved my life that day,” said Peter as he stared at the last remnants of green tea at the bottom of his cup.

  Aiko was silent as she took in the amazing story of her grandfather. No one in her family knew this and they needed to know. Her grandfather’s life wasn’t meant to be hidden away in some shadow of dishonor.

  She looked at Joey’s folded drawing on the corner of the tray table and placed her hand on it. She slowly slid it to the opposite corner closest to Mr. Tanaka and held it there. Mr. Tanaka noticed Aiko’s movement and reflected on that one poignant scene that depicted him kneeling over his fallen friend.

  “That’s the last time I saw your grandfather. It’s only fitting that his granddaughter should hear of his last moments. I think he would have wanted that,” said Mr. Tanaka as Aiko looked up at him with curious and melancholy eyes. Her eyes did remind him of his wartime friend: She had his strength.

  Mr. Tanaka took a breath and was searching for the words to begin the story of the last time he saw Aiko’s grandfather when a voice from the airplane’s speakers interrupted them.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, our pilot has turned on the fasten your seatbelt sign as we make our final descent into Los Angeles International Airport. Please take a moment to collect any service items, as the flight attendants will be coming around to collect them. Please return your tray to its upright position and adjust your seat to its normal position. We should be touching down in about ten minutes. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  “I guess we will have to continue this story after we land,” said Mr. Tanaka.

  Aiko let out a sigh as she picked up Joey’s folded drawing. “I guess so,” she said with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

  “My wife will be at the gate. She hates to fly, so she only gets to see Joey when our son and his family fly out to visit us.”

  “He should visit more often then,” said Aiko with a smile.

  “And how often do you visit your parents?” asked Mr. Tanaka with a grin as he passed his empty cup to the flight attendant.

  “Probably not often enough,” said Aiko sheepishly. Her smile masked a feeling of guilt.

  Mr. Tanaka smiled back. He knew that he probably made Aiko feel a little guilty. “It’s okay, Aiko, you young ones have such fast-paced lives nowadays.”

  It was getting hard for Aiko to hear Mr. Tanaka clearly as she started to feel the cabin pressure building up in her ears. She wanted to be polite, but didn’t want to pretend that she was hearing him. It was one of the things she hated about flying, and she didn’t understand why some people were more susceptible to it than others. It made her feel self-conscious when something beyond her control affected one of her senses. She pretended she needed to take something out from her purse and decided to fidget with her phone instead.

  Mr. Tanaka leaned back into his seat and turned his head to look out the window as the scene of houses darted past. Aiko watched Mr. Tanaka out of the corner of her eye and found it amazing that the elderly man next to her had endured so much during the war. She wondered how after such a horrific experience, anyone could come home intact. Or maybe they didn’t, but they had just wanted to come home so desperately that they repressed their traumatic experiences. She had seen many movies depicting the soldiers of World War II but sitting beside her was a lost chapter in American history.

  The plane eased onto the runway as its wheels screeched along the tarmac. The plane then leveled out as the front wheel touched down and the sound of the reverse thrusters could be heard bringing the plane to a controlled roll as it began to taxi to its designated gate.

  “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Los Angeles International Airport. We ask that you remain seated until the plane has come to a full stop. You may now turn on any personal electronic devices such as cell phones. Please be careful when opening the overhead compartments as contents may have shifted during flight. The local time is 1:30 P.M. Pacific Time. Again, we hope that you had a pleasant flight and will fly with us once again. On behalf of the flight crew, thank you for flying United Airlines.”

  Aiko suddenly felt a yawn come over her and placed her hand over her mouth. As she did, what sounded like huge boulders being rolled aside echoed throughout her ear canal, and her hearing finally returned to normal.

  “You look tired,” said Mr. Tanaka.

  Aiko nodded as she finished her yawn and smiled back at Mr. Tanaka. She was just glad that she heard him clearly.

  Aiko walked alongside Mr. Tanaka as they exited the plane and entered the terminal area where Mr. Tanaka slowly scanned the crowd.

  A faint voice came from the right. A nimble elderly Japanese American woman moved forward to greet Mr. Tanaka. It was undoubtedly his wife. She was shorter than Mr. Tanaka and a bit on the thin side. Her straight shoulder-length hair was a salt-and-pepper color. There were several deep wrinkles on her face that marked the passage of time, but she still had a cheery smile.

  Mr. Tanaka’s eyes lit up at the sight of her, and he walked over to her. They gently hugged as she bombarded him with questions about his trip. Aiko smiled as she watched the elderly couple–they were still obviously in love. Suddenly, Mrs. Tanaka’s eyes spotted Aiko, who had been standing by watching them. Mr. Tanaka realized he had forgotten about Aiko for a moment. He turned around, gingerly felt for his wife’s hand, and approached Aiko.

  “Aiko, I like for you to meet my wife, Noriko,” said Mr. Tanaka.

  “Hello Mrs. Tanaka, it’s very nice to meet you,” said Aiko politely as she bowed respectfully.

  Mrs. Tanaka looked at Aiko. She had never met her and didn’t understand how she had come to know her husband. She instinctively gripped Mr. Tanaka’s hand a little firmer.

  “Aiko is Joey’s teacher,” said Mr. Tanaka reassuringly.

  Mrs. Tanaka looked up at her husband curiously and then back at Aiko. “Is Joey in trouble?” she asked.

  Aiko smiled and let out a reassuring laugh while shaking her head. She was amused by the question, but she could understand her confusion. It wasn’t every day that grandparents would get a visit from their grandchild’s elementary school teacher.

  “Aiko…” said Mr. Tanaka as he looked down into his wife’s eyes. “Aiko is Hiroshi’s granddaughter.”

  Mrs. Tanaka’s face froze in disbelief. She looked back at Aiko and then back at her husband and could only say incredulously, “No!”

  “Yes, I couldn’t believe it myself, but this is Hiroshi’s granddaughter.”

  Mrs. Tanaka looked back at Aiko. “You must be so proud of your grandfather,” she said.

  It was an odd question. Before the last few days, she never knew how she felt about her grandfather. But with the riveting stories of her grandfather she had to say with utmost confidence and pride that she was proud of him and to be his granddaughter.

  “Yes, yes I am,” Aiko said firmly.

  “Aiko, why don’t you come back to our house and I can finish my story of your grandfather?” said Mr. Tanaka.

  “I hope I won’t be intruding…” but before Aiko could politely offer a customary decline, Mrs. Tanaka quickly stepped over to Aiko, grasped her arm and said, “Nonsense, you’re more than welcome. Hiroshi’s granddaughter, I could only have imagined. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Aiko was pleasantly surprised and she smiled back at Mrs. Tanaka. “I would be honored,” she answered softly.

  Mr. Tanaka smiled and moved towards the baggage claim as Mrs. Tanaka tugged at Aiko’s arm firmly. She started to tell Aiko about the dinner she had prepared, and that she shouldn’t worry as she could make enough for three pe
ople.

  Down at the baggage claim, Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka watched for his suitcase with Aiko a few steps behind them. The last few hours had been an amazing revelation in her own family’s history that she didn’t even know existed. She thought about how her morning had seemingly started out like any other morning until Joey told her that his grandfather was leaving to go back to Los Angeles, which started her on her rash decisions that finally lead her to board the same plane. She thought about what she would tell her parents and how she would explain to them that she was all of sudden in Los Angeles. Suddenly, Aiko heard her phone ring and she reached into her purse.

  She pulled out the phone and a smile crept over her face, it was Cat.

  “Hi Cat!” exclaimed an excited Aiko.

  “Hey hon, so did you find him?” asked Cat.

  “I did! You won’t believe what I had to do to find him though.”

  “That’s great! Well just to let you know, I took care of your little monsters and for the most part they behaved themselves. I don’t know what torture room techniques you employ but you gotta share some of them with me.”

  Aiko laughed, “Oh you know me, Cat, I just kill them with kindness.”

  “Well hon, why don’t you come pick me up. I’m still here at the school grading papers and we can go out to dinner.”

  A sudden realization came over Aiko. In her rash decision to get on the plane, she had totally forgotten her responsibilities back home. Aiko cleared her throat and then said to Cat nervously, “Uh, I can’t do that Cat. I’m not in D.C. anymore.”

  “You’re not in D.C? If you’re not here, then where are you?” asked Cat curiously.

  “I’m in Los Angeles,” said Aiko.

  There was a pause on the other end of the line when Cat exclaimed, “Why are you in Los Angeles?”

  Mr. Tanaka had just pulled his suitcase off the baggage carousel and began inspecting it with his wife. “Cat, it’s a long story but I’ll explain as soon as I get back but I need you to cover for me by watching my kids tomorrow. Would that be okay?”

  “Uh, sure. But Aiko…” there was a pause from Cat and then she blurted out, “Where’s my car?”

  * * *

  The Tanakas owned an old charcoal-colored Honda Accord from the 1980s. Sitting on the musty, light grayish upholstery, Aiko felt that she had entered another time in American history. There were thick black plastic floor mats and underneath them were brown paper shopping bags, which were undoubtedly floor mats for the black plastic floor mats. Mr. Tanaka told Aiko that he bought the car in the 1980’s and had kept it since, as it was so reliable. It was in excellent condition for a car that was almost as old as Aiko.

  “It may be an old car, but it’s a good old Japanese car and they were built to last,” said Mr. Tanaka as he started the engine and began to drive out of the airport garage.

  On a Monday afternoon, the traffic going east on the 105 freeway was light as cars whizzed along at about 70 miles per hour while Mr. Tanaka cruised along at a comfortable speed of 40 miles per hour. Mr. Tanaka and Mrs. Tanaka seemed entirely oblivious to the other cars whizzing by them and continued driving calmly as Aiko exercised extreme patience and restraint.

  Eventually they reached the Tanakas’ home, a simple ranch house. But it was well maintained; the lawn and hedges were immaculate. It was mid-afternoon and Aiko found herself sitting on the living room couch soon after she had freshened up. She was given slippers to wear upon entering and took them immediately, abiding by the common Asian custom to take off one’s shoes before entering someone’s home. Mrs. Tanaka was preparing tea in the kitchen while Mr. Tanaka went to wash up.

  As Aiko sat on the couch, she looked around the modest living room, which was adorned with a few Japanese items such as scrolls with brushed on Japanese characters and pictures featuring Japanese art. On one wall, however, was the American flag. Aiko could see Mrs. Tanaka in the kitchen through the doorway as she quietly busied herself. Mr. Tanaka soon emerged from the other doorway that led out into the little foyer. He had changed into another pair of brown slacks and a fresh shirt. He was rolling up the sleeves. “I hope you’re comfortable,” he said.

  “I’m fine, Mr. Tanaka,” Aiko replied as Mr. Tanaka seated himself to her right.

  Mr. Tanaka took another look into Aiko’s warm brown eyes. “I can’t believe I have Hiroshi’s granddaughter in my own living room.”

  “Mr. Tanaka, the honor is all mine,” answered Aiko.

  “No Aiko. You don’t understand–your grandfather saved my life, which is a debt I can never repay,” Mr. Tanaka said solemnly.

  Aiko looked into Mr. Tanaka’s face and saw that his expression had changed. It was almost a wounded look. His eyes then darted over to the wooden shelving in the corner behind Aiko.

  “Let me show you some pictures of your grandfather,” Mr. Tanaka said as he got up from the couch.

  Aiko grew excited. She had never seen a picture of her grandfather. She got up and followed him to the wooden shelves. He angled himself so that Aiko could get a clear view of the several black-and-white pictures on the shelves.

  Mr. Tanaka pointed to a picture of four Japanese American men who were standing side by side in front of a barrack. The second man from the left was a man in his mid-twenties, judging from the picture. It was always so hard to judge the age of an Asian person, thought Aiko. People would still sometimes mistake her for a college student. But the man’s eyes were firm and piercing, and exuded a sense of youthful confidence. The smile also projected a sense of cavalier friendliness that would have made any girl swoon. His brushed back hair was thick and he had broad shoulders. Aiko immediately knew that that was her grandfather.

  “You see the family resemblance, don’t you?” asked Mr. Tanaka when she saw the glint of recognition in her eyes. She looked at him and nodded. Mr. Tanaka turned his attention back to the picture and continued. “The young boy on the left was Kenji. The man standing next to your grandfather was me in my younger days, and the taller man on the right, that was Akira.”

  Aiko looked at the picture more closely. Kenji was everything that she had envisioned. He was a young, slender kid with spiked hair and a youthful grin showing his slightly crooked teeth. Peter was slightly shorter than her grandfather, with his parted hair. He looked more like a college student than a soldier. On the other end was Akira, who had the same build as her grandfather, but his hair was short and he had almost a thuggish look about him. His eyebrows angled more than the rest of the men, which made him look almost conniving.

  Mr. Tanaka pointed to another picture, showing Aiko’s grandfather posing for the camera. It was a picture of him at Camp Shelby, and he was only wearing his military pants and a white tank top. Aiko couldn’t help noticing her grandfather’s physique. He had a rifle straddled across the back of his upper shoulders and hung his arms lazily from each end. He was definitely in the prime of his life, full of youth and vitality.

  “Tea is ready and I have few things to nibble on before I prepare dinner,” said Mrs. Tanaka as she carefully entered the living room.

  Aiko turned and quickly offered to help but was politely told to make herself comfortable on the couch. Aiko obliged and sat down on the couch as she smoothed out her skirt. Mr. Tanaka sat down beside her on her right as Mrs. Tanaka sat on the other side of Aiko.

  Mrs. Tanaka poured out the green tea and offered a cup to everyone. Aiko acknowledged Mr. and Mrs. Tanaka in appreciation and sipped her tea. Like any doting grandmother, Mrs. Tanaka entreated Aiko to sample some of the treats she had laid out, an assortment of cookies. Aiko smiled and picked up one of the cookies and took a bite.

  “Aiko, show my wife Joey’s drawing,” said Mr. Tanaka.

  “Oh yes, of course. It’s what started everything isn’t it?” said Aiko as she reached back for her purse. She carefully pulled out the folded drawing as Mr. Tanaka pushed back the tray on the coffee table to make room.

  Mrs. Tanaka peered over and looked down at the drawing to
admire the work of her grandson. Mr. Tanaka began talking about the drawing as his wife listened.

  “Joey is so talented at drawing. The soldiers. The blown up machine gun bunkers. Look at how he captured so much of my story to him, just like I’ve told you. This was a terrible battle. It was the worst part of the war I ever saw.” There was a moment of silence as Mr. Tanaka reflected on a thought before he looked at Aiko. “It was also the day your grandfather died.”

  There was almost a sense of guilt in his face. Aiko instinctively reached out for his hand to offer comfort. She looked at the drawing, and then looked back at him with a weak smile.

  “I’m sure my grandfather appreciated everything you tried to do for him as Joey had drawn,” said Aiko.

  There was a puzzled look on Mr. Tanaka’s face. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Aiko pointed to the scene in the drawing and said, “Well here, you’re trying to apply a bandage on my grandfather.”

  Mr. Tanaka looked down to where Aiko was pointing and he suddenly asked, “Didn’t Joey tell you the story about this scene?”

  “No, he didn’t. I just assumed from the drawing you were trying to apply a bandage and…”

  Mrs. Tanaka suddenly looked at her husband and interjected with a stunned looked, “The letter!”

  Aiko was utterly confused as she looked at Mrs. Tanaka’s wide eyes and then she turned her head to Mr. Tanaka, who bore the same look. He suddenly said, “Oh my God! I totally forgot! Excuse me, I’ll be right back!” Mr. Tanaka said anxiously.

  Mr. Tanaka quickly got up from the couch and hurried out of the living room and disappeared down the hallway.

  Aiko looked at Mrs. Tanaka. She gently took Aiko’s left hand with both of hers and said, “Aiko, that’s not a bandage. That’s a letter that your grandfather wrote for your grandmother.”

  A sudden chill shot down Aiko’s spine. Now she suddenly realized the importance of the scene.