46.

How long have I been walking? There was no way of telling what time it was. Or how much time had passed. She did know the coming of night. In the gathering darkness, she saw creatures wandering; the apparitions with hollow but shining eyes, elongated arms of loose skin dragging behind them, and faltering legs, looking for…what…salvation? Maybe praying for an end…for death. She saw the petrified bodies standing in place, some impaled by shards of wood or glass. Other bodies burnt to a crisp but still standing, like dead trees after a forest fire. One was comical in posture; like the dokekata comic character in kabuki. Two pieces of lumber had spiked the body of a young woman and anchored it in position in the ground before her. Her half-facial expression was one of total surprise. Comical if not for the horrifying implication. The surrounding landscape dark and shadowed mounds of rubble, a landscape of horror. Hiroshima had become an eternal Hell.

She fell asleep as she lay on the ground. No mean feat to lie down, but she managed with some effort. She vowed out loud, “I will not die, not now…not here.”

A bowl of rice, hot, fluffy white rice, appeared in her dreamscape. Stomach pains woke her. She touched her abdomen and the aching disappeared. Water gurgled somewhere nearby. Was she thirsty? She couldn’t tell, but she noticed a broken lead pipe jutting out the ground. A spigot with an arch of water flowing out of it. She realized she had seen many pipes along the way. She pulled herself along the ground; fortunately, it wasn’t far away. She felt the liquid against her lips, her mouth, down her throat, but it offered no relief. It wasn’t even cold. Then again, she really couldn’t tell.

When she finished her fill, she fell asleep on the spot and dreamed of a shining bowl of rice.

***

Morning. Morning was not morning with the sun shining and flowers dancing in the breeze. It was grey, hot, and foul smelling, like unseen corpses rotting. Chiemi stirred and remembered what had happened. The pain came back as she rose in the still, smoky air. She continued her journey gingerly.

Her left leg, her curse, still dragged; it was useless. But she pressed on, keeping in mind her children.

The hours slid into hours as she moved along the trolley tracks. A ghostly monster saw her and followed for a pace. The elastic skin of his arms dragged behind, leaving a trail in the black ground. He soon fell by the wayside, exhausted by the exertion, mercifully dying or dead.

Chiemi could not stop to help. Her mind would not allow her to feel compassion. Her own skin had opened even more, the wounds gapped like hungry birds waiting for nourishment, but none came, no relief from pain. And no blood oozed out. Blisters all over her body (those she could see) grew larger and new ones formed; the blood and yellow-green pus seemed to coagulate in contact with the air. Was she turning into a wandering ghost?

Sometime during the day, she came face to face with a nearly blank wall. Nearly because a huge red circular splotch adorned it. It must be blood, she thought. There was no sign of a body, anywhere, but she knew what had happened.

She grimaced and grinned a sardonic smirk. The splotch was in the shape of a rough circle. The Hinomaru, the Japanese flag. She lurched away from the telling symbol.

***

Night fell again and again she found a spot to sleep. But this time something was different: she discovered she was lying on grass! Green and cool soft grass. It was a small patch of vegetation, but the aroma, even if tinged by smoke, was intoxicating. Her spirits were raised as if some gigantic burden was lifted. Hope…hope. She slept soundly.

Her babies squirmed on their futon, always busy, always restless. Her Takeshi, cute and endearing, smiled up at her. Kuniya can take care of himself, she thought, but what about Takeshi?

She awoke in the moist aftermath of happiness. But she was not lying on grass. It was morning with a sun weakly shining behind the eternally overcast sky. The ground was grey and black around her and in the distance. All ash and sharp-edged cinders had cut into the bottoms of her feet. Numb to the pain. Fatigue slowly overcame her consciousness.

No grass, it was the memory of grass. Words poured onto her dreamscape.

The Americans are a cruel people. They bomb indiscriminately. They kill blindly, without conscience or compassion: babies, young girls, young boys, the elderly. Captain... How could they do that?

Her thoughts once more faded into a dark sleep.

***

Once she recovered somewhat, she climbed to her feet and continued walking for a good long time. She struggled along until she saw trees surrounding her, slowly but surely. The ground gradually changed from scarred and scattered ash to green. She approached a familiar hill, a grass-covered hill. She looked to the top and saw it was the rise to the Akamatsu Compound. Sure enough, as she reached the modest summit, she saw the thick stands of trees and bushy fence around the estate. Could it be? She reached out to grasp the vegetation in the distance. Suspecting it was real, she quickened her pace as best as she could. Only a few steps more.

In excruciating agony, she lifted her right arm until her hand caressed the bushes. The morning dew was cool. She brought her hand to her mouth and tasted it. She beamed.

She struggled along the fence until she found an opening. She stepped inside only to hear a scream. It was Mitsue, Aiko’s eldest daughter.

“Obasan!” she said startled, shocked, and concerned. “Is that really you? Look what they’ve done… Oh my… Where’ve you been? It’s been over two weeks since…” Her voice trailed away.

Chiemi’s body was stiff from her injuries but was able to move. Mitsue helped her into the house, though she hesitated to touch her aunt.

Once inside, Chiemi collapsed to the tatami and wood as Mitsue called for others to come help. The floor was cool to the touch. In the rush of household members coming to her, she heard familiar voices.

“Chiemi-chan, it is you! I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Okaa…okaa,” she rasped.

“Okaasan! Okaasan!” Her babies shrieked. “What happened? Are you—”

“Mitsue, take the boys away!” Haruye ordered.

Relief came over Chiemi. Her babies were safe. She felt her mother’s arms propping her up. “Okaa…Aiko…?”

“We don’t know… She went to the high school to practice as she always does. Then… We haven’t heard from her. How in the world did you survive? Look at you! We’ll get you Dr. Kubota. He’s nearby,” she said assuredly. “Go get him, Mitsue.”

“Okaa…okaa,” Chiemi said as she reached up and touched the sleeve of her kimono. Her mother’s perfume enveloped her.

Okaasan reached and embraced her daughter, something she hadn’t done since she was a baby. She held Chiemi in the crook of her arm.

Chiemi widened her eyes as best as she could. The blurred image of her mother came into focus, but then faded. But her words came back to her. A deeply black shadow quickly enveloped Haruye’s outline. It expanded and embraced Chiemi’s body. And she immediately understood. Chiemi tried to sit up and, in a hoarse, rasping voice yelled, with the last of her strength,

“Otousan, we are warriors. Otou…sa…a search for peace, peace…”