“When he came back from Palembang it was very difficult for me. It was time to pay and I didn’t want to pay. We were alone in the house, except for the amah and Angus. He had brought a present for Angus, and a negligee for me. In my few halting words of Japanese I thanked him. Then at length we were in the bedroom. Lying on the bed. He took me, and once it had begun, it was easy to pretend and I could forget the whore that I had become. I felt nothing except disgust and hatred, but I hid it from him and he seemed happy enough. That began the pattern of life. I pretended to enjoy him. Certainly I went out of my way to try to make him happy, to see that he got the foods he wanted, the peace he wanted. I was a good pupil and Saito was pleased and the Colonel was pleased that I learned quickly. When I could speak directly to him, the Colonel told me of his hatred of war, but that it was a necessary evil, temporary but necessary. He hated radios and would not allow one in the house. So our life became a pattern and the world. And he wanted me very much, and the more he loved the more he wanted. And afterwards, when he was asleep, I used to lie awake — thanking God that he was asleep for another night — and pray to be dead. Oh, yes, I prayed for death. But at the same time I prayed for life, for this war could not last forever, and if I did die, what would happen to Angus?
“Angus loved the Colonel. I used to hate myself when I watched the Colonel playing on the floor with my son — no man could have been more a father — hating the fact that I hated to see my son so happy with the man who whored his mother.
“The Colonel adored Angus, that was the hardest thing of all to bear. Oh, I could lie under this man, pretending that I enjoyed him — I was surprised how easy it was to pretend to be ecstatic — pretending to be amused, pretending to be gay when he returned at night, but when he and Angus were playing, father and son, then I found the hurt was so huge that I could not pretend that I liked him.
“Every new tooth, every little child hurt, every little halting word was a joy to the Colonel. And soon, as the months fled into a year, I did not hate the Japanese words, and soon Japanese became to me my mother tongue.
“The war was going bad for us, the white Imperialists. At first I felt the weight of the war, and the suffering of the Allies, for the Colonel and Saito told me what was going on in the world. Saito was so happy at the Japanese conquests, and proud of the fighting ability of the Imperial Army, but the Colonel was sad and very grave. I thought, my God, the war will never end, never. This life must go on forever, and, when I was alone and Angus was asleep I used to cry and cry, until there was no cry left within my soul. Those were sad days. Then after a while, I did not want to hear the bad news. Gradually, I forgot the war, and tried to let the house and my son be my life. A defense, surely, but the only one I could think of. Africa gone, the Far East gone, the Near East gone, France gone, and England devastated — all gone to the enemy. But in my madness — I think life is insanity sometimes, don’t you? — I seemed to think or realize that these were not losses, but victories. And that I was the real enemy, and they, the Japanese, the truth seekers. Every victory led closer to the finish of war, all war, and I prayed fervently for the end of war. So it was with me and my son and the Colonel. I crawled into the safety of ‘home’ and let the world pass me by. It was enough for me. Enough.
“Then one day, after the Colonel had been playing with Angus, I found I liked him. He had saved me from the camps. Oh yes, I knew about the camps. And the deaths. So suddenly I came to like my Colonel. That night, we made love. And suddenly, I was pretending no longer. I let my body enjoy him as he enjoyed me. I kissed him, wanting to kiss him. Is that wrong? To love the man upon whom you lean? The man who was the father to your other child? Oh yes, that night I truly loved my Colonel.
“I felt no shame from that day on, and a softness filled my life. Only at night the dreams came, dreams all mixed up with starving children — can children be evil? — arms outstretched, clawing, begging for food, always food, and Angus, fat and rosy beside me, outside the fence, and all the starving rapacious child-eyes on him, tearing down the fence to get at him. And then always the fence would be torn down and we would run, Angus and I, with the talons of the children rending at his rosy flesh. Most times, I awoke before the children fell on him, and I heard his screams.
“When Nobu was born, my Colonel said that I would always be in his house. Always. He told me, now that the Japanese had conquered Australia and had already landed on the California coast, that soon the global war would be over. Then we would go to live in California where he was to be a governor.
“Once I asked him why he had picked me and why he had taken me into his house, for such an important man could, like other of the Japanese officers, have brought their wives from Japan to live with them in their new colonies. And he told me simply, that he believed that the Samurai — the elite — of which he was from time beyond history — had responsibilities over and above wives and war and life and death. He said, and his voice always gentle and calm, ‘It is our duty to have children of mixed races and to adopt, as I have adopted your white son to be my son. In the new world, the Samurai will have two families, one pure and one impure — but just as important — for the future peace of the world.’ He smiled his soft smile and continued, ‘How could my sons in Japan war with your son who is white but brought up to speak our language and brought up as pure even as my own son. Angus-san will be half Samurai, he will share my name and prestige. And Nobu, the girl child, she will marry another Samurai and her children will be of the world ruling class under the Samurai who will rule. You and I, Mem, are living, and I hope loving, for the future peace of the world.’
“It seemed a simple and true solution, and I did not want to lose my Colonel, and he promised, ‘you will live in my house in peace, forever.’
“I said once — and only once — that you, my husband, might be alive. He was angry, so very angry, and said that he had told me it would be impossible for you to be alive — hadn’t he gone to considerable trouble to find out? So you Mac, my first husband, are dead, but one day when we are all dead, perhaps I’ll see you again and tell you this story of what happened to your lucky wife.
“Oh yes, really, I am happy now. My Colonel is gentle, and a good man, and your son Angus will grow up to be a fine man and with my Colonel as his guardian, why, who knows to what heights Angus may aspire in the new world. And Nobu, surely she will have a wonderful husband and perhaps when she is old enough, why, perhaps, we can all visit England and I will be able to show her where I was born. My great grandmother was German, so the Colonel feels I will be accepted as Aryan by the Germans who conquered England last year. Another two or three years and the world will be stabilized, Germans ruling the west, the Imperial Japanese ruling the East — Asia, Australia, and America!”
Mem was drifting into thought waves, caught by the tale she told her past. But dear Mac wasn’t there to be told the tale. Abruptly, Angus stirred in his sleep, crying softly. She listened for a moment with all the concentration of a mother, mind critically alert, interpreting the cry. Sickness? Dream? But it was just a child cry and meant no danger, and soon the cries were no longer disturbing her.
It was so nice to sit quiet, drifting. “I’m so lucky,” she said softly, aloud. And the strangeness of the words held her a moment, for she had said them in English, even though she had been thinking in Japanese, for now, she always thought in Japanese.