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Surrender And
Dishonour
And Discipline
And Glory
my back off the floor.
‘We won the war.’
He must have known of my traumatic dreams, particularly after
his mother’s death, but did nothing to anaesthetise them. We sat
there in chilling silence on the hard floor. It wasn’t quiet though; I
could feel the warmth of his body next to me, the pulse from his
hand on my shoulder. After a while, he spoke.
‘I got a promotion, to work in Takashitu Kure Hospital.’ He
looked at me, his dark brown eyes full of regret and remorse.
Maybe that’s just what I wanted to see. ‘I won’t go. I’m not going
to work with the Japanese. I know you’d resent that.’
‘Go. Take the job.’ The words were barely audible, my throat
tightening with hostility at his betrayal.
It didn’t take much convincing. He took the job.
Dan left the next Wednesday night. Had I known how long it
would be before I saw him again, I wouldn’t have said that what he
did was unforgivable, that he was no son to me. I felt numb, sick in
the humidity of the room that had an atmosphere not unlike a
prison camp on an ochre mountain at the end of a railway line.
Full
of wanting
, I returned to the lighthouse. The old, trench coat man
was there. I gave him a slight nod, though he didn’t notice, leaving
me the night sky all tomyself. I was drowned beneath the tenebrous
and unfathomably deep expanse that was the sky above. Rain came
like thick, heavy blood, beating down like the footsteps of a
thousand soldiers.
He who is drowned is not troubled by the rain
. The
lighthouse beacon continued to turn, though its beam was dimmer,
muffled by the ongoing storm. Meanwhile, the faintly glowing
moon remained simple and stagnant, unwavering among the
maelstrom of rain and fear and surrender. How quickly a storm
can come, shattering the equanimity of a clear sky that had
remained intact, day after day. That was all it took; after years of
submissiveness and reservation, I was drowned in hatred and guilt.
Surrender is the ultimate dishonour. Years after, that was
attenuated by a different, poignant sort of pride. I had not
surrendered. I had, and from then on always would, stay loyal to
my boy.
But at that moment, I was consumed.
The war was over and the prisoners were released, at a single
gunshot.
‘
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