To Go Home

-1-

Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh!

“Whah! Huh?”

Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh!

What? Oh…

Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh! Duh!

“Hold on! I’m coming!”

Groggy, irritable, and confused, I stood from the rickety, creaking rocking chair and moved through the pitch-blackness to the door, scolding myself for not leaving a light on. But who knew I’d sleep all day? At least the house was empty, for if things were in their usual disorder, with toys and books scattered everywhere, I definitely would’ve tripped.

Another impatient knock, and I finally reached the door, then grumpily slid it open. A thin, teenage boy in a worn, khaki shirt and dusty, black trousers stood before me.

“Breaking news, Ma’am. Would you like to buy a paper?”

“Breaking news? You woke me for that?”

Annoyed, I started shutting the entry, but he swiftly shook his head.

“No, Ma’am,” he continued, reaching into his ripping, gray, overstuffed satchel. “Look.”

He held it up.

“What…?”

-2-

“Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, my good baby, sleep!

“Where did my boy's babysitter go?

“Beyond that mountain, back to her home—

“Ah!”

I doubled over, dropping the freshly washed, white towel to clutch my right hand. Those old clothespins! I desperately needed new ones, but the store was always out of stock. I didn’t want to waste time looking again this morning, so I didn’t go and just continued with these. Haruto would’ve scolded my haste, but there was so much to do…

Oh, Haruto…

My nerves were on fire from the pin's spring unloading itself into the meat of my palm, and I swore for not being more careful. Why an injury now? As a single mom to two kids under ten, a bum hand was disastrous.

Stop, Yua. You’re fine. Compared to Haruto… This is nothing.

“Okaasan?”

Uh-oh.

I shot straight up, donning my best poker face.

“Yes, Kazu?”

“Are you okay?” he asked skeptically, his plump cheeks puffing into a concerned pout.

“Of course,” I insisted, smiling and stroking his short, soft, black hair. “Go play.”

His frown deepened, but I smiled wider and kissed his forehead, desperate to sell the act—which thankfully worked. He shrugged and took off, his dark gray jinbei shorts cutely wiggling with each step, and I sighed, both relieved and ashamed. He’d forget my injury, but would he think lying was okay? Would he take my hidden feelings wrongly and start hiding his, too? My stomach twisted. Was I being irresponsible and ruining my kids? I just wanted to be a pillar of strength in this tragedy, but was I actually wrong?

Oh, Haruto…

Haruto was gone, though, so I’d have to answer that alone. I looked up at the brilliant, high, midsummer sun and continued the laundry, throwing aside the towel I dropped to wash again later. My hand still hurt, and I flexed to see—

“Kazu!”

Emi’s shriek jerked me to the river behind our property. A moment ago, she was splashing around, giggling and playing with the stuffed owl my mother sewed for her ninth birthday—an exact replica of the funny-looking, white-faced one gifted years ago to the Ueno Zoo from Germany. It was Haruto's favorite, and Emi also loved it—the “barn” owl, if I remembered correctly.

We took her every birthday to see it, Haruto hoisting her on his shoulders for the best view. But this year, since both the zoo and my husband were gone, my mother made Emi her own, and now, she argued with her brother over it. I sighed, then bounded toward them, disapproval sliding onto my face. The second they saw me, they froze, as my chidings were so rare—

Errrr! Errrr! Errrr! Errrr!

No…

“Kids! Here! Now!”

I needn’t waste my breath, though; they knew the sirens well and were already dashing to me. I pulled them across the yard to the deep trench the last owner dug, then lowered them in. Once down the side tunnel, I jumped in, too, sliding the thick, metal cover over top before crawling after them and scooping their shaking, terrified bodies into my lap.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

But my voice trembled, so my words weren’t reassuring. I hated days like this… Bombings were the only time I couldn’t comfort my kids, and I hated being so helpless.

Curled up in that dark, cramped, humid space, I sang the lullaby from earlier as loud as possible, praying it pierced the sirens and reached my babies' ears. Because of last year, every raid now rattled Kazu, and I hoped this song would prevent that today, since it was his favorite. However, under all the stress, it came out strained and frantic—more panic-inducing than the shrill signal above. So I simply added to his fears, making him bawl.

Goodness, Yua!

I stopped singing to speak, but surprisingly, Emi beat me to it, warmly hugging her brother's head and gently stroking his hair.

“Don’t cry, Kazu. We aren’t in Tokyo anymore, so we’ll be fine.”

As she cared for him, I cared for her, combing my fingers through her cute, black bob.

Such brave kids…

I’d reward them later—if later came. She was wrong about being safe here. The American airmen recently shattered that dream, and thinking of it, I could cry. They were as cruel and inhumane as the government said. Were civilians meaningless? Women, children, grandparents, families—did no one matter?

Crrshh!

A distant bomb pulled me back to now, and Kazu groaned, then shook worse.

“It’s okay, Ka—”

“Okaasan!”

Crrrshhh!

“We’re going to die!”

“Shh, Kazu! It’s alright!

Crrrshhhh!

“Okaaaasaaaaaaan!”

“Please, Kazu! Shh!”

“Okaaaasaaaaan!”

Releasing Emi and wrapping himself tightly around me, he uncontrollably wailed, and I squeezed them both harder. If we were to die in flames, I’d clutch their souls and comfort their fears until the bitter end. We’d leave this world together, no matter wha—

Crrrrrsshhhtunkshhh!

We all screamed at that one. It was loud, the impact reverberating through the ground, so it definitely fell close. My worries deepened, but it was out of my control; all I could do was hug my kids and pray the bombs missed.

Crrrrrsshhhtunkshhh!

America... My kids didn’t attack you! Can’t they live? Wasn’t my husband enough?

Crrrrrsshhhtunkshhh!

Another bomb just as close… I grew dizzy and was suddenly back in that frigid, winter morning…last year in the outskirts of Tokyo…the last time a blast rattled our bones…

Crrrrrsshhhtunkshhh-boooom!

“Aah!”

We screamed again, and I started hyperventilating.

They’re going to kill us… My goodness, we’re going to die… My kids… My sweet, innocent kids… They’re just kids! Why can’t my kids live?

I wept, and in my misery, my mother’s offer from November rang through my head. Returning home… Escaping the dangers around Tokyo… Back then, the bombings didn’t reach here, so I declined, hating to leave where we laid my husband’s ashes. But now…I regretted it. They still weren't bombing home, so if I agreed...my kids could live…

Crrrshhh!

Another blast, but this time, it was quieter. I tensed, and my tears stopped.

Are they…?

Like a hunting dog in a thicket, I listened with every nerve in my body, straining for the next crash through the sirens, waiting for ano—

Crrsh!

Yes! They were passing! My heart rose to my throat, and tears started again. My babies would see another day…

“Emi! Kazu! It’s fine now! The bad people left! We’re okay!”

But they were deaf to me, engulfed in the terrors of their nightmarish memories. I sighed. It really was time to go home, wasn't it?

-3-

“Alright, Kazu. Here’s your yo-yo.”

I placed it in his outstretched hand, and he joyously snatched it, then ran to a nearby bench to play.

“Now, Emi. Your barrette. Let me pin it like you wanted.”

I moved to her back and lifted her midnight hair, then twisted it twice and slid the jade clip in place.

“Beautiful,” I declared as she faced me.

Proudly smiling, I looked her up and down. She was short for her age, barely reaching my waist, but it only made her cuter. My petite gem—someone you naturally wanted to wrap in your arms and hold forever. And with her smooth, creamy, earthenware skin and supple cheeks that dimpled when she smiled, she was certified trouble. Boys already drooled over her, so I couldn’t imagine ten years from now.

“Don’t lose that, okay?”

“Yes, Okaasan. Thank you again. I love it, and I love you.”

She hugged me, pressing her face into my lower abdomen.

“I love you, too, my precious girl. Now, let’s go.”

I grabbed her hand and walked to Kazu, then pulled him off the bench and made our way through the crowds to the platform. Despite the racket from the hustling families lugging suitcases and the bustling soldiers tugging guns, I softly sang our favorite lullaby until at our destination. Surrounded by countless others doing the unimaginable, I released Emi’s hand and grabbed the tickets from my purse, then moved to the yellow line. A distant whistle sounded.

Perfect…

Overjoyed by the chance to travel again, Kazu bounced and babbled excitedly, but his voice was lost under the engine's roar. Only the shouting paperboy on our left was heard, and I smiled, then lifted my son for a better view—the last thing I could do for him. His tiny, brown loafers softly kicked my waist as he watched the train screech to a stop, and shaking with sorrow as he nestled his head into the crook of my neck, I pulled Emi close and told them both I loved them. Then, I cleared my tight throat and breathed.

Just keep it together until they’re gone, Yua.

Setting Kazu on the ground, I sniffled and started.

“Come on. Time to go. Here are your tickets, and you have your bags. The rest of your stuff is already with Obaachan. Anything else…? Ah! Yes. Here, my loves.”

I reached in my purse for the two candy sachets I purchased behind their backs.

“One for you, and one for you.”

Their faces lit up, and they thanked me.

“Well, you’re good kids who deserve a treat. Just don’t choke, okay? Now, let me check your bags again.”

“Okaasan,” Emi scolded, impatient.

I bit my lower lip and looked down, embarrassed.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Checking their tiny cases would waste precious boarding time. I was well aware, but…that was the point—to waste time and keep them with me a minute longer. Every check along the way was for that purpose, but I was being selfish. Seven would have to be enough.

“Let’s go, then,” I finished, grabbing their hands and taking them to the fourth car’s attendant.

He examined and ripped the tickets, then waved us up the steep steps. I led my kids down the narrow aisle to their seats, grabbed Emi’s owl and Kazu’s blanket from their bags, then secured the rest of their belongings in the overhead compartment. When done, I stepped aside and handed them their favorite treasures, and as I watched them settle, my heart dropped.

“Be good, okay? The trip is long, but it'll pass quickly. Obey the attendants, and I’ll see you next month. Okaasan loves you, okay? Don’t forget that, and don’t forget to behave. Emi, keep Kazu out of trouble, and both of you, listen to Obaachan. Have fun, though. Everything will be fine.”

“Yes, Okaasan. We’ll be good and have fun. I promise.”

“Thank you, Emi,” I softly replied, trying to act happy.

Then, I knelt on the filthy floor and embraced her—tighter than ever. She did the same to me, and entwined in each other’s undying love, we lost our composure and silently cried. Softly shaking in her tiny arms, I closed my eyes and relished that tragic moment, remembering the feeling of her thin, warm, cotton dress…the softness of her short, shining, pinned-up hair—

“Last call for evacuating children!”

The conductor’s yells jerked us out of the moment, and startled, we looked at each other, then Kazu. He was totally oblivious, the world outside the window far more intriguing, and as we laughed at his naivety, I wiped the tears from our faces—mine with my left hand and hers with my right. When both of us were dry, I stood and brushed off my skirt.

“Okay, darlings. I love you. Goodbye for now.”

Still trembling, I leaned in for a final embrace, then smiled and started off. When back on the platform, I moved to their window and looked up. Kazu happily waved while Emi sulked, and I laughed at the contrast. But she’d get over it soon.

A few minutes later, the train slowly started, and in another moment, my smiling, cheery boy and stone-faced, sullen girl were gone. I watched the train fully fade, and when my world was nothing but weeping mothers and the still-shouting newsboy, I finally sobbed myself.

-4-

It was early morning, not long after eight, and a black-and-brown, speckled thrush suddenly landed in the doorway, prettily chirping a dainty tune that sounded just like Kazu's favorite lullaby. Was Okaasan singing it to him? I’d have to ask tomorrow. It was already next month, and I was thrilled to finally reunite with my family. To touch my children's beautiful, little hands and see their sweet, joyous smiles… To just exist together again…

I couldn’t wait, but first, to finish cleaning. I hummed with the bird as I swept the now-empty house, just my purse and the old rocking chair left.

“Hmmhmhm, hmmhmhm, hm hm, hmmhm hm…”

Harmonizing with that fowl was surprisingly fun—and it was certainly good at singing! My voice added a nice depth to its performance, and I thought of taking it as a pet so we could duet on the regular. But I’d never catch it, so I quit pretending I could befriend an animal and crossed the room for the dustpan.

Booooom!

“Ah!”

Thunder clapped loudly, frightening both me and the bird, and I sighed. Not only was my feathery friend now gone, but the gorgeous sky was darkening from the west. Typical August…

Bye, little guy…

I crossed the room again to slide the door shut, and as I reached for the handle—

"Oh, my!"

I was startled out of my skin! At the edge of the engawa, a funny-looking, white-faced barn owl sat stoically perched.

At this hour? And Japan doesn't even have barn owls!

One soft, high-pitched screech, and it stretched its long wings and soared out of sight. Then, the downpour started.

What?

Amazed, I closed the door and sat in the old, pine rocking chair in the back, right corner of the room, shutting my eyes and deciding to take a break. I started before sunrise and barely slept all week, so maybe I was seeing things...

Rocking with the rain wildly pattering against the roof, I realized how exhausted I actually was and quickly turned heavy. I needed to finish cleaning, but no matter how hard I tried opening my eyes, they simply refused. And before I knew it, I was one with the blissful dark behind them.

***

“No, Ma’am,” he continued, reaching into his ripping, gray, overstuffed satchel. “Look.”

He held it up.

“What…?”

BREAKING! DEAD CITY: Hiroshima flattened by bomb. Nothing left. Few survivors.

“What…”

My body numbed, and daggers formed in the pit of my stomach, then rose to my throat. My heart and soul dropped to my feet, and every nerve suddenly tingled, then numbed again. I couldn’t breathe…couldn’t feel my lungs… Even the room’s icy chill was gone, and I reached to the wall for support. But the world was slipping from under me… I was heavy and anchored to the floor…but the floor was falling…blurring…falling…dragging me with it…

My kids…

And again, I was one with the blissful dark.

-5-

“There really is nothing…”

About a kilometer and a half from the blast center, my sister spoke atop a collapsed store. We were as close as they’d let us get in all the rubble—just endless mounds of debris that slowly flattened to ash, as far as the eye could see...

Just dirt and ash…

Too horrified to stand, I dropped to my knees next to Yoko. Our hometown… Our mother… My kids… All in those unreachable ashes… The ashes of our family… Of my children…

Disparity consumed me, and I hyperventilated for the third time since we arrived. Yoko knelt and softly spoke, but I couldn’t understand. I was violently shaking and uncontrollably sobbing like the rest of the past two days, and there was nothing that could stop it—nothing that could reach me. My kids…were gone… Incinerated... Like Haruto, but no remains… No mementos… Not even a scrap of fabric to kiss and hug… Not even a picture or ashes to build their shrine… Even Haruto and Tomoko had shrines…

That’s it…

Unable to bear it, I rose and turned away from the devastation toward my brother-in-law Himhu.

“Yua?” Yoko asked, concerned at my sudden movement.

“I want to go,” I bitterly answered, teeth half-clenched. “I mourned at their grave, and now I want to go.”

I closed my eyes to remember my surroundings. The unstable rubble shifting beneath my feet… Crumbled up concrete… Burnt wood… Twisted metal… The putrid, overwhelming odor of singed fabric, skin, and hair… Of boiled, vaporized blood… My chill despite the sweltering, August heat…

Those were the remnants of my kids—their only funeral. Just a few intangible memories of a few fleeting sensations... My dear Emi and Kazu, somewhere in that dust… Somewhere in the air I breathed… For all I knew, their poor, little ashes were stuck to the very bottoms of my shoes...

You disgusting Americans… Disgracing my kids...

Then, I heard it. Somewhere, a baby cried.

What?

In this catastrophe? We were far from the detonation’s center, but even here, things were in shambles. Could a baby…really…?

It wailed again.

“No,” I gasped, horrified.

While I was distraught by my kids’ deaths, if they had to experience this…I was glad they perished. They didn’t suffer, but the survivors we saw so far…

“Yes, Yua?” Yoko prodded.

I looked frantically between her and Himhu’s puzzled faces. They clearly didn’t hear it, but I swore I—

Waaaah!

I did! And they heard it, too, somewhere from the left. Wide-eyed, we searched, human nature rendering us incapable of abandoning a baby even now. It cried again, and I ran for it despite Yoko yelling at me to slow down. I couldn’t, though; there wasn’t time. If it survived this long, it had to survive more.

It cried again near me, and I stopped to gently rummage, still on high alert. Then, something moved to my right, and I swung my head its way. But I dared not go, terrified to kill it. Instead, I stared and waited, and as my brother-in-law caught up, a tiny arm shot between two charred boards. Careful not to jostle anything and collapse its cave, we crept to it.

Himhu cautiously inspected the area, then lifted the wood. The infant was facedown in a filthy blanket with its head turned toward the dark, as if put there intentionally, and except for its right arm occasionally lifting, it was completely still. Worried it was partially paralyzed, I breathed deep and backed away.

“What?” Himhu anxiously asked.

“I…I don’t want to hurt it,” I sullenly replied.

“Oh, goodness, Yua,” he groaned, distressed. “Look… It’s barely alive, alright? Accidentally putting it out of its misery…should be your last worry.”

Oh…

Sadly, he was right, so with that in mind, I reached in and gently wrapped my hands around its waist, then rolled it over. As my grip firmed, blood saturated its blanket, and then, it was right-side up.

Oh…

I slowly peeled the fabric off to examine—

Oh…

Hands…body…face… She was definitely abandoned here at some point after the bomb, and if she was paralyzed...that would be the least of her problems. I unbuttoned my bodice; picked up her broken, naked, singed frame; and lifted her to my chest, then wrapped her tight to shield her delicate self from the cruel world she just entered. Crying again, I descended the rubble and started down the road, my only thought getting her help.

“Is it alive?” Himhu asked behind me.

“Yes,” I barely managed, choking back my tears.

“Well…is it alright?”

“Depends on your definition.”

Truthfully, I just didn’t want to describe it. Himhu fell silent, then timidly continued.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, she’s alive, okay?” I snapped, really not wanting to explain. “She’s alive, and compared to everyone else here, that’s pretty damn alright.”

“Wha— Uh…”

He was speechless, and any other day, I would’ve felt sorry for my reaction. But how stupid was he? We found a baby in a blast zone! What did he expect?

“You’re right… Can I…see her?”

I stopped.

“You didn’t see before?”

“Uh… No. I, uh…looked away…”

Of course…

“Can you handle it?”

“Wha—”

He paused, rethinking his words.

“Why?”

“Because, Himhu,” I started, unsure of how to finish. “She…isn’t all there.”

“Oh…” he sullenly remarked. “I understand…’

“Yeah…” I replied, staring at my filthy shoes. “Let’s go.”

-6-

“And that’s how we started, Mr. Smith.”

“Amazing…” he says breathlessly, in horrible Japanese.

It seems he hasn’t fathomed yet.

“Unbelievable…”

He chuckles, not knowing what else to do.

“I… I really can’t believe it… That’s really your story?”

“Yes. Oh, yes,” I say shyly, looking at the ground. “No one ever believes it.”

“Well, they will soon, let me tell you. Hey, can we start the shoot?”

He’s speaking full English now, and his tiny translator is struggling to keep up with his fast words.

“The lighting’s perfect, and the look on your face after that story…would be incredible to capture. You’d win the world’s hearts. What do you say?

“Yes, Mr. Smith. That’s fine.”

“Perfect!” he yells, overjoyed.

But what it means, I do not know; it isn’t translated, and before I can ask, he lifts his camera from his neck and starts adjusting everything on it. I watch for a moment, then realize I’ll never understand. So instead, I turn to Tomoko, my precious daughter who patiently waited in her wheelchair all this time.

“Let’s clean you, baby girl.”

I reach out and lift her. Mr. Smith’s camera flashes, and I flinch, startled. But Tomoko doesn’t move. She never does. I rest her flat on the ground, then look around. Everyone in the bathhouse is staring, and I’m suddenly embarrassed. As if having a blind, deaf, paralyzed, and physically deformed child isn’t enough, just add an American reporter to the mix! They were warned we'd be here, but still... What a sight!

I untie Tomoko’s robe and slip it off, leaving her naked on top while I undo and slip off mine. The camera keeps flashing, and I feel odd and ashamed of my old self. But Tomoko needs her bath, and Mr. Smith needs his photos. So, I let both my modesty and robe fall, then carry on, lifting Tomoko into my arms before entering the warm water. Supporting her with my abs, I slowly drop to one knee until she’s sitting, keeping her upright with my other while I grab the soap next to me and dip it in. As the journalist continues snapping, I begin.

It’s hard to see with both the afternoon sun and camera flash dancing in my eyes, and the blinding combination makes me wonder how things are for Tomoko. To never know sight, sound, movement, or touch… What goes on in her head? What life does she even live?

My poor, baby girl…

I sigh and rinse the soap from her body. Now, for her cute, sparse hair. I lather it well, and just before I dip her under, I look into her wide, unseeing eyes—eyes just like the barn owls Emi and Haruto loved. And with her pale, heart-shaped, stoic face and the little, black tufts scattered atop her almost earless head, she really does resemble those creatures! But I don't think they're funny-looking anymore. Oh, no. They're beautiful now.

As I continue gazing at my adopted daughter's precious face, a love like no other rushes over me.

My dear Tomoko... Now twenty… The sweet, third child I always wanted but never had… Named after the baby I lost in the bombing that killed Haruto… My precious angel… All these years called ugly and deformed… So much pain and hurt… But look at you now! You’re a model, Tomoko! Oh, if only you knew… If only you knew how special you are…

“Perfect! That’s it!” Mr. Smith exclaims.

Again, I don’t know what he means or why he speaks, but I go with it, acting normally like instructed when we met this morning. I finally dunk my daughter's head and massage the soap off her scalp, and as the camera keeps flashing, I remember how Emi and Kazu loved this. They said it felt so nice and would beg me to never stop.

Those kids…

Lost in the memories of my first family, I slowly smile and continue cleaning Tomoko’s beautiful, feathery hair, singing what I know would be her favorite song if she could only hear it—the song I sing to her every bath.

“Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye, my good baby, sleep…”