1943. Shanghai. A soldier of the Japanese Army happens by a club one night purely out of boredom. What he expects to find are uncouth drunks. He actually meets a beautiful African-American performer by the name of Beatrice. Throughout the next three...
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niijuu-ichi
twenty-one
He found her in the backyard, sitting alongside the trail that led up to Mount Mansfield. Clearing his throat, he gathered her attention. She'd been crying and her pretty brown cheeks were flushed red.
"Takeru..."
"I thought you'd be out here." Sniffling, she schooched over, allowing him to sit.
"I can't believe he's really gone." She lifted hands up to wipe away fresh tears.
"I had every warning. I knew what would happen. But still..."
"It doesn't lessen the pain, Sami." Nodding, more tears wet her cheeks.
"I spent time in Mr. Matsuda's office yesterday."
"You did?"
"Mmhm."
"I'm surprised you even went in there."
"I needed to conquer my fear of the space." His words made her look at him.
"I spent hours in there. Looking through all the pictures and newspaper clippings." She was quiet now as she listened,
"I was transported into hell for a long time. And I didn't sleep all that well. I'll admit that. But...in order for me to do this right...I have to see with his eyes."
"What is it you're trying to see Take?" At that, he grew quiet.
"I told Mere to take the week and recoup. She's pretty shaken up by Grandpa's passing." Sniffing, she stood.
"If you're hungry, I can make us some gyoza." She turned to walk away but he reached out to grab her hand. Growing still, she slowly closed her eyes, a tear of two slipping down her cheeks. Neither one of them said anything and in the silence, their fingers entwined.
***
USSR
1947
Black smoke obstructed the light and the air. Eyes watery, he continued to crawl, strategic stones placed in the dirt to guide him to the opening. Sweat threatened to burn him alive but he kept going, feeling the air disappearing less and less. With haste, he pulled himself along the narrow dirt path and reached outwards, glad to feel the pulley in front of him. Giving it a firm tug, at once it began to be lifted. Hanging on, he dangled dangerously in mid-air and the threat of falling to his death increased with every tug upward.
