WriterJohnB
Member
Here's an excerpt from my historical novel, Necessary Evil. Read it, review it, critique it, whatever you'd like to do.
The Americans have captured the island of Tinian, and Tedtaotao (Ted), a native boy, has been put into an internment camp with other non-Japanese civilians. Trouble is, a Japanese bully, Hanjiro, and a Japanese sailor have passed themselves off as civilians and are also in the camp.
Eventually, when the afternoon was nearly over, the sailor nodded slightly toward Hanjiro and the two of them made separate ways to the southwest corner of the compound. They squatted together in the mud, their backs to everyone else. Since the detention camp was located on the southern edge of the air base, there was nothing between the pair of Japanese youths and the mountain.
The sailor seemed to be digging at the base of the fence post while Hanjiro glanced nervously around to see if anyone might be watching. Ted quickly averted his gaze. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes nearly all the way, peering through the slits while pretending to be asleep.
Hanjiro was obviously acting as lookout while the sailor did—what? He had apparently dug some small object from the soft dirt, for he wiped it clean on a sleeve. But then he tucked whatever-it-was in close to his stomach, where no one could see it from behind him.
For several minutes, the two Japanese squatted, Hanjiro looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to him, the sailor...doing what? He looked down at whatever he held, but often looked up toward Mount Lasu.
Suddenly, he said something to Hanjiro. He stuck the small object back beneath the muck and they rose. Separating, they casually walked back and blended in with the other detainees.
Later, when Cookie and Flapjack showed up at the wire again, Ted thought about telling them about the odd behavior of the two Japanese. But he decided not to mention it, since he had already met Lieutenant Mushiro and not mentioned the presence of a military man among the civilian detainees. Maybe Ted would get in trouble for not telling earlier.
The next morning, Ted was given two pairs of shorts and two shirts to wear, just the right size. They were the first new clothes he’d ever had and he decided not to put them on right away, since they’d get muddy out in the yard.
He kept alert and, after the mid-day meal, the sailor lay down on a bench and fell asleep with his head facing away from the mysterious corner. A short time later, Hanjiro went behind the board fence that screened off the privy. Ted scurried to the corner and stuck a hand into the mud. He found a flat slippery object and pulled it free. It was a rectangle of glass, a few inches on the sides. Now why would the two Japanese be hiding such a thing? He wiped it on his clothing and realized it was actually a mirror, such as a woman might carry to check her make-up, like high-born Japanese women often did.
He glanced over and made sure the sailor was still asleep. There was no sign of Hanjiro. Ted thrust the small mirror back into the muck and went back to his place on a bench.
Once again, Hanjiro and the sailor watched the sun’s progress, then went to the corner. Before they even arrived, however, Hanjiro pointed to the ground and the pair stopped and began discussing something excitedly. They suspiciously looked around at the other men in the camp.
Ted quickly realized his mistake. Heavy rain at noontime had leveled the mud around the corner post, so he had left footprints and a disturbed area where he had dug up the mirror. The Japanese pair could see that someone had been there.
Nevertheless, the sailor dug up the mirror and the two of them squatted like they had the day before. Hanjiro glared around warily, and Ted decided not to watch them directly. Ted knew what the signalman was doing now. He was using the mirror to reflect sunlight toward the mountain, using some sort of code. So Ted watched the mountain, trying to appear uninterested.
After a few minutes, he was rewarded by the sight of two brilliant flashes from the mountainside. Whoever was up there—surely a Japanese hold-out—was responding with another mirror, signaling the sailor’s message had been received.
The two spies, for spies they were, buried the mirror again and returned to one of the benches, where they engaged in an animated discussion. From the glares they aimed his way, Ted knew they suspected him of uncovering their secret. After all, they had cowed the Korean and Okinawans into not turning them in, so Ted was the likely suspect.
He grew worried. They wouldn’t dare harm him out in plain sight, but what about at night? There were no guards inside the camp at night. The Japanese pair could easily beat him badly—or even kill him—before the guards could react. None of the other detainees would help him. He hadn’t made any friends here in the camp, and the others were afraid of the two Japanese bullies, anyway.
But what if he told their secret? Lieutenant Mushiro called himself an American, but would he side with Ted against the two Japanese spies? Did he still have a bias toward other Japanese, since it seemed almost ingrained in their culture to stick together against other nationalities? If Mushiro put Ted back into the camp, there’d be no doubt in the spies’ minds that Ted had found them out. He’d be dead meat for sure.
Could he trust Mushiro? Could he trust any American? Were they truly devils, as everyone had said before they invaded?
When Cookie and Flapjack showed up at the wire that evening, Ted asked them how Americans generally felt about people different from them. They were black-skinned, yet they were Americans. Lieutenant Mushiro was Japanese, yet he was an American.
“Well, Shortstuff,” Cookie said. “America sure ain’t perfect, but it’s better than most places, from what I learned in school. Colored folks still have it a bit rough in the states, but it's getting better. And, sure, our president locked up Japanese-Americans, but they’re not killing them like the Germans are killing anybody who’s not blond and blue-eyed. We found out that, in the Philippines, the Japs killed thousands of our soldiers, after they’d surrendered.”
“Yeah, and we just found out what the Japs did on Guam.” Flapjack said. “They put all the natives in camps, and then started killin’ ’em by the dozen when we. . .”
“Hush your mouth,” Cookie interrupted. “You’re talkin’ about the kid’s people.”
But it was too late. A great loneliness washed over Ted. All the Chamorros from Tinian, except for him and Ha’ani, had been taken to Guam by the Japanese. Ha’ani had originally come from Guam, so her people had always lived there. How many had died? Had the Japs killed them all? Was he the only Chamorro left?
“Go to your colonel,” he said. “Tell him they must get me out of here now, before dark. There are Japanese spies inside this camp.”
The Americans have captured the island of Tinian, and Tedtaotao (Ted), a native boy, has been put into an internment camp with other non-Japanese civilians. Trouble is, a Japanese bully, Hanjiro, and a Japanese sailor have passed themselves off as civilians and are also in the camp.
Chapter Thirteen
Brilliant Flashes
August, 1944
The next afternoon, Ted noticed that Hanjiro and the baby-faced sailor shared a certain strange behavior, although they sat apart and seemed to be trying not to look at each other. At first, he thought they were trying to guess time by the sun, since they kept glancing at it, but they also would glance at the top of Mount Lasu, as though comparing the position of the sun in relation to the small mountain. What could they be up to?Eventually, when the afternoon was nearly over, the sailor nodded slightly toward Hanjiro and the two of them made separate ways to the southwest corner of the compound. They squatted together in the mud, their backs to everyone else. Since the detention camp was located on the southern edge of the air base, there was nothing between the pair of Japanese youths and the mountain.
The sailor seemed to be digging at the base of the fence post while Hanjiro glanced nervously around to see if anyone might be watching. Ted quickly averted his gaze. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes nearly all the way, peering through the slits while pretending to be asleep.
Hanjiro was obviously acting as lookout while the sailor did—what? He had apparently dug some small object from the soft dirt, for he wiped it clean on a sleeve. But then he tucked whatever-it-was in close to his stomach, where no one could see it from behind him.
For several minutes, the two Japanese squatted, Hanjiro looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to him, the sailor...doing what? He looked down at whatever he held, but often looked up toward Mount Lasu.
Suddenly, he said something to Hanjiro. He stuck the small object back beneath the muck and they rose. Separating, they casually walked back and blended in with the other detainees.
Later, when Cookie and Flapjack showed up at the wire again, Ted thought about telling them about the odd behavior of the two Japanese. But he decided not to mention it, since he had already met Lieutenant Mushiro and not mentioned the presence of a military man among the civilian detainees. Maybe Ted would get in trouble for not telling earlier.
The next morning, Ted was given two pairs of shorts and two shirts to wear, just the right size. They were the first new clothes he’d ever had and he decided not to put them on right away, since they’d get muddy out in the yard.
He kept alert and, after the mid-day meal, the sailor lay down on a bench and fell asleep with his head facing away from the mysterious corner. A short time later, Hanjiro went behind the board fence that screened off the privy. Ted scurried to the corner and stuck a hand into the mud. He found a flat slippery object and pulled it free. It was a rectangle of glass, a few inches on the sides. Now why would the two Japanese be hiding such a thing? He wiped it on his clothing and realized it was actually a mirror, such as a woman might carry to check her make-up, like high-born Japanese women often did.
He glanced over and made sure the sailor was still asleep. There was no sign of Hanjiro. Ted thrust the small mirror back into the muck and went back to his place on a bench.
Once again, Hanjiro and the sailor watched the sun’s progress, then went to the corner. Before they even arrived, however, Hanjiro pointed to the ground and the pair stopped and began discussing something excitedly. They suspiciously looked around at the other men in the camp.
Ted quickly realized his mistake. Heavy rain at noontime had leveled the mud around the corner post, so he had left footprints and a disturbed area where he had dug up the mirror. The Japanese pair could see that someone had been there.
Nevertheless, the sailor dug up the mirror and the two of them squatted like they had the day before. Hanjiro glared around warily, and Ted decided not to watch them directly. Ted knew what the signalman was doing now. He was using the mirror to reflect sunlight toward the mountain, using some sort of code. So Ted watched the mountain, trying to appear uninterested.
After a few minutes, he was rewarded by the sight of two brilliant flashes from the mountainside. Whoever was up there—surely a Japanese hold-out—was responding with another mirror, signaling the sailor’s message had been received.
The two spies, for spies they were, buried the mirror again and returned to one of the benches, where they engaged in an animated discussion. From the glares they aimed his way, Ted knew they suspected him of uncovering their secret. After all, they had cowed the Korean and Okinawans into not turning them in, so Ted was the likely suspect.
He grew worried. They wouldn’t dare harm him out in plain sight, but what about at night? There were no guards inside the camp at night. The Japanese pair could easily beat him badly—or even kill him—before the guards could react. None of the other detainees would help him. He hadn’t made any friends here in the camp, and the others were afraid of the two Japanese bullies, anyway.
But what if he told their secret? Lieutenant Mushiro called himself an American, but would he side with Ted against the two Japanese spies? Did he still have a bias toward other Japanese, since it seemed almost ingrained in their culture to stick together against other nationalities? If Mushiro put Ted back into the camp, there’d be no doubt in the spies’ minds that Ted had found them out. He’d be dead meat for sure.
Could he trust Mushiro? Could he trust any American? Were they truly devils, as everyone had said before they invaded?
When Cookie and Flapjack showed up at the wire that evening, Ted asked them how Americans generally felt about people different from them. They were black-skinned, yet they were Americans. Lieutenant Mushiro was Japanese, yet he was an American.
“Well, Shortstuff,” Cookie said. “America sure ain’t perfect, but it’s better than most places, from what I learned in school. Colored folks still have it a bit rough in the states, but it's getting better. And, sure, our president locked up Japanese-Americans, but they’re not killing them like the Germans are killing anybody who’s not blond and blue-eyed. We found out that, in the Philippines, the Japs killed thousands of our soldiers, after they’d surrendered.”
“Yeah, and we just found out what the Japs did on Guam.” Flapjack said. “They put all the natives in camps, and then started killin’ ’em by the dozen when we. . .”
“Hush your mouth,” Cookie interrupted. “You’re talkin’ about the kid’s people.”
But it was too late. A great loneliness washed over Ted. All the Chamorros from Tinian, except for him and Ha’ani, had been taken to Guam by the Japanese. Ha’ani had originally come from Guam, so her people had always lived there. How many had died? Had the Japs killed them all? Was he the only Chamorro left?
“Go to your colonel,” he said. “Tell him they must get me out of here now, before dark. There are Japanese spies inside this camp.”