Kimiko drove straight to Masters’ hotel and parked the car. “Would you like to come to supper at my home?” she asked.
“Yes. I’d like that. What time should I come?”
She glanced at her watch. “It is almost seven. Why don’t you rest for an hour and I will have Hiroko pick you up at eight o’clock.”
“Okay.”
“Keith,” she called, as he stepped out of the car. “Please do not mention our conversation to her. She does not know about me.”
He leaned in through the window. “Neither do I.” They smiled at each other. “How about speaking of Ichiro?”
“Perhaps it should be avoided as much as possible. They were very close, and Hiroko is not quite predictable. I will tell her I have spoken of him to you.”
He nodded and strode into the hotel. Up in his room, he lay on his bed and thought about the boy. What a goddamn mess, he reflected. I need this aggravation like a first class migraine attack. If I had any sense, I’d get on a boat tonight and show my heels to Japan. This atonement crap is just a pipedream, a dramatic interlude to impress George Brighton between my waking up to reality and dropping dead from a crummy heart.
And now I am acting like a country schoolboy, holding hands with a pint sized whore who has been screwed by half the army in Korea and thinking of a baked brain kid who had nothing better to do than murder people. I wonder how that little bastard did kill the union guy?
He suddenly realized that he was very weary, and in minutes he was fast asleep.
He awoke at the sound of a knock on the door. “Who’s there?” he called out.
“Hiroko.”
Masters looked at his watch. It was eight o’clock. “I’ll be right down.” He rose quickly, poured tepid water from a jug into a porcelain bowl, washed, and in a few minutes was down in the lobby. Hiroko was not there, so he walked outside and found her sitting in Kimiko’s car parked directly in front of the hotel.
“Sorry. I must have overslept,” he said.
“That’s all right.” She started the engine and moved promptly into the traffic. “Did you enjoy yourself at my grandparents’ home?”
“Yes.”
At a traffic light she stopped and glanced at him. “Mother said that you have a bad heart. Also, that I am to apologize for speaking so disrespectfully.”
Masters could hardly keep his eyes from the girl. She fascinated him with her strange, sensuous beauty. Experience had taught him that the girl knew it, too. He pulled himself away from his thoughts to answer her. “I assume that you are apologizing only because your mother ordered you to.”
The traffic light changed and she started off. “Yes,” she replied, with Kimiko’s directness of speech.
“I don’t accept it,” he said, deciding to join battle. Her head swung round at his brisk refusal. “I am a stranger to you and your mother, and I don’t want to interfere with Japanese customs. So far as I am concerned, you had the right to ask your questions in the way you did. If your mother feels different, then that is between you and her. I just won’t accept an apology that is not really meant as one. So let’s not make a federal case of it. Forget it.”
Her brow wrinkled further. She drove in silence, attempting to comprehend his abrupt retort. Her eyes flicked at him. “You are a much harder man than I thought,” she finally said. He let the remark pass unanswered. Then she flashed an open smile at him. “Okay, Mr. Masters, I apologize for myself, not because mother ordered me to do so.”
Masters grinned back. “I accept it on the condition that you say it without smiling. You’re a fine looking woman, and the smile makes the words too easy to accept.”
She chuckled. “I guess that’s meant as a compliment.”
“You can take it as one.”
The traffic had thinned out and she sped through the streets. “Mother likes you,” she commented after a few minutes. He did not reply to her probe. From the corner of his eye he saw from the expression on her face that she was considering another tack. “Where did you stay?” she asked casually.
“At your grandparents’ house?” he said easily, chuckling to himself. He decided to take a shot at her. “Are you trying to learn if we shared the same sleeping mat?”
Her reaction was not what he anticipated. Her face grew taut and her breasts visibly swelled. She swallowed. “My mother is a very beautiful and desirable woman.” He decided not to answer her, just looked out of the window. But Hiriko would not be put off. “Well, did you?” she demanded boldly.
“Did we what?” asked Masters, enjoying himself tremendously.
Her breathing was noticeably heavy. “Did you share the same mat?”
He turned towards her. She was driving slowly, her eyes bright, her breasts rising and falling with excitement. He was suddenly aware that if he placed a hand on the girl, she would explode.
“Don’t get any false notions, Hiroko,” he said harshly. “Your mother took me to the countryside to show me what life was like many years ago. We barely know each other. Don’t try to read a big romance into it.”
She did not appear to have heard him, or, if she did, it made no impact. “What is it like,” she asked tensely, “for middle aged people to have an affair?”
He almost laughed out loud. Under her words, he sensed a direction she was aiming for that had nothing to do with the comments thus far. “Lay off, Hiroko,” he said quietly.
A flush rose to her face. “Don’t treat me as a child!” she snapped. “I know what it’s all about.”
So I was right, he decided. She wants to play games. His loins suddenly grew warm. “Fine. Then wait a few more years and you’ll have all your questions answered about middle aged people.”
She held back her resentment at his remark. “What is it, a big secret?” she asked, her eyes staring straight ahead. “What would it be like if say, a middle aged man had an affair with a younger woman?”
Well, there it is, thought Masters. If I run now, then this utterly desirable woman child would have the evil eye on me forever.
“She wouldn’t satisfy him,” he lashed out at her. “It would be just a tangle of arms and legs and sweat on the stomach. And he wouldn’t satisfy her either. He’d be too old. Now, stop this crap and let’s get home.”
She turned startled eyes on him, as if he had slapped her face, as if he had rejected her. Then her mouth snapped shut and her foot slammed down on the accelerator.
As Masters reached the door to the house, it opened. Kimiko was standing there with a tall, straight backed Japanese. At first glance, Masters told himself that this man, about sixty years old, was one very tough person.
“Good evening,” said Kimiko, bowing in greeting. She turned to the tall, hard faced Japanese. “Admiral, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Masters from the United States, who is visiting Japan. Mr. Masters, this is Admiral Kowasachi.”
The Japanese took in all the details about Masters with one swift look, then he bowed very slightly, almost just a nod. Masters knew enough about Japanese customs to recognize this as tantamount to an insult. The deeper one bowed, the more respect was being paid. Kowasachi offered none. Masters set his jaw and just acknowledged the greeting with a dip of his chin. The admiral bowed more fully to Kimiko, then without a word, he started down the path. A long, black, chauffeured Mercedes was waiting at the curb.
Once Masters stepped inside, Kimiko bowed again, as if they had not met for a few weeks or so. He found her old fashioned manners bewitching.
“Who was that interesting fellow?” he asked.
“A friend of mine. He has given me some sound financial advice over the years.”
“Speaking of friendship, do I bow now?” he asked, smiling.
Kimiko laughed and reached out a hand to shake his. “Good evening, Mr. Masters,” she said, noticing her daughter about to enter behind him.
“Would you call me Keith?” he said, turning his head to include Hiroko. “I would feel more at ease.”
Kimiko nodded. “I am called Kimiko,” she said, keeping up the deception. She was beautiful, sheathed in a silk dress of forest green, with small emeralds dangling from her ears and a string of perfectly matched pearls around her throat. “Would you care for a juice before dinner?”
“No, thanks.”
“Then please, sit here.” She settled him at the head of the table and the wrinkled, old servant served the meal at once. Hiroko sat opposite him, seemingly subdued.
“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.