The Purple Heart (12 page)

“And I don’t think I could
like you if you had pale alabaster skin and eyes that were not brown like
yours. I think you’re really pretty Minami, and that includes everything that
is Japanese about you,” replied Hiroshi.

Minami felt flattered. It
was the first time that Hiroshi ever said she was pretty. But still she had
some lingering thoughts and continued, “But we wouldn’t be here if we were
Japanese.”

Hiroshi looked down at
Minami and for a moment hesitated. He slowly eased himself away and then
unexpectedly, jumped onto the peak of the roof, with one foot planted on either
side. Minami’s eyes widened as she beckoned him to come down. She looked around
as if people were watching, though there were none.

Hiroshi ignored her and
then pointed at the closest watchtower in front of him and simply said, “I’m Japanese
American!” He then moved his finger clockwise and stopped at another watchtower
and said, “I’m Japanese American!” Minami looked about nervously, picturing the
spotlights in each tower turning on him and machine guns immediately shooting
down the defiant Hiroshi. But nothing happened. Each tower stood tall and
silent. Hiroshi hopped into the air and spun around doing a 180 and continued
with his defiant statement until he hopped once more into the air and landed to
fix his gaze on Minami. There was nothing but silence all about them. He
stretched out his hand toward Minami and she paused. Hiroshi nodded his head
reassuringly and Minami reached out for his hand. He gently pulled her up as
she carefully stepped up onto the peak of the roof.

Hiroshi gently pulled her
closer so that only inches separated them. He placed his arms around her waist
and gently held her. Minami still clutched the collars of his jacket so it
wouldn’t fall off her shoulders. He looked down at her as she looked up and he
said, “Right now, it’s just the two of us. Two Japanese Americans on this
rooftop who are defying America’s wish to hold us here. Minami, you are the
most the beautiful woman I have ever met and simply, the most beautiful Japanese
American woman I have laid eyes on.”

There was such power and
sincerity in his words and Minami couldn’t help staring deeply into his eyes.
It was true: This was their time and no one could take it away from them. For
that one moment, they were on top of the world.

Hiroshi then leaned in and
laid a gentle kiss on Minami’s soft lips. Minami wanted this. Her first kiss
was romantic perfection as the moon and stars danced about them in a silent
stellar choreography of applause.

The next morning was
different than all others since Hiroshi arrived on the prison camp. But what
really made him feel alive was that he had kissed Minami. His mind wouldn’t
stop going back to the moment when he held her in his arms. He remembered
looking down at her, admiring her beauty from her smooth skin, her silky hair,
and her wondrous eyes. But it was her delicate pink lips that he remembered
most as he kissed them. They were the softest lips he’d ever kissed, but more
importantly, he kissed a woman who he started to have feelings for.

Hiroshi was headed to the
water pump to meet Minami. He reflected on that first day he happened to meet
Minami and how amusing it was to watch her struggle with the water pump. But
there was something very attractive about her, a sense of determination and
responsibility. She was all alone and ventured out in the early morning hours
to find water for her family. She was like a solitary rose standing alone in a
garden of ordinary flowers that was just asking to be noticed.

Hiroshi’s thoughts were
distracted when he heard a familiar sound. He stopped in his tracks as his ears
perked up in search of that sound. It came so quickly and dissipated that he
couldn’t tell which direction it came from. Then it came again, a faint cracking
sound that shot through the air. This time, he was paying attention and it came
from his left. He turned in the direction of the noise and started to walk away
from the pump. The noise came again and it was getting louder. He passed
several barracks and emerged out of the last block approaching the fenced
perimeter when the origin of the noise materialized in front of him.

Beyond the fence were
several soldiers, some lined up against the fence with their backs to Hiroshi.
Other soldiers were spaced apart in the desert and there was a single soldier in
the middle. He stared down another soldier about sixty feet away from him. Then
in a fluid motion, he lifted his leg, unfurled his throwing arm and unleashed a
ball down the mound toward the batter. The batter swung and hit the ball on the
tip and sent it left and upward. The soldiers were playing baseball.

Hiroshi followed the ball
as it arced high into the air. For a moment he lost it in the glare of the
morning sun but he knew he had to be patient. The ball then reappeared on the
bottom rim of the sun and started falling back to earth. It was definitely a
foul ball. Hiroshi continued to follow the ball with his eyes until finally it
landed a few feet away from him with a dull thud sending up a halo of dry sand.

Hiroshi stared at the ball
until his attention was caught by one of the soldiers.

“Hey Jap, throw the ball
back over,” said the soldier.

Hiroshi looked up and saw
that the catcher had gotten up from his position and walked over to the fence.
He was still in his army uniform, but he had rolled up his sleeves and
unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a white T-shirt underneath. There was dirt on
his pants around his knees, most likely from digging them into the ground. He
pushed up his catcher’s mask and pounded the mitt with his clenched right fist
to get Hiroshi’s attention. “Hey Jap, any day now.”

Hiroshi stood there for a
moment before he took a few steps toward the baseball. He bent down and picked
it up. It was dusty and the leather was scraped in some places from where the
bat had made contact with it. But the threading was still tight and the ball
firm. He tossed the ball a few inches into the air, and it landed softly back
into his palm. The warm baseball with smudges of encrusted dirt felt good in
his hand. It brought back many memories of when he played the game back home
with his friends and when he played a game of fetch with his dog.

“Hey look guys, the Jap
thinks he can throw a baseball,” said the soldier, which elicited a few laughs
from the other soldiers.

Hiroshi just stared at the
solider. He was of medium build, probably the same height as Hiroshi. He had
short dirty blond hair and thick eyebrows with deep-set eyes.

The soldier had re-entered
the prison camp through a gate and took a few steps toward Hiroshi. He was
about fifty feet away and his body language exuded annoyance and impatience.

“Okay, if it’ll make you
throw the ball any faster, I’m game.” The solider knelt down and padded the
mitt with his fist. He didn’t pull down his catcher’s mask as he assumed the
position of a catcher. “Okay Jap, let’s see what you got,” goaded the solider.

Hiroshi simply stared down
the path to the soldier and he found that he couldn’t resist. Even if it would
be the only baseball that he would throw during his entire time in the prison
camp, he would do it. Hiroshi moved his pail off to the side and stood up. He
shifted his weight and placed his left foot in front of his right. He bent
forward a little as he brought the ball around and behind him. There was no
need for any special pitches. He would just send the ball down toward the
soldier as fast as possible. The other soldiers had their faces against the
fence now and were watching the event unfold with interest. He glared down into
the soldier’s mitt and envisioned the ball there. He straightened up, brought
the ball to his chest, lifted his leg to wind up his pitch and then, in one
fluid motion, his body lunged forward as his throwing arm arced over his body
unleashing the ball.

The ball hurtled down the
path toward the catcher. It was straight as an arrow and it gained more speed
as it closed the distance between itself and the soldier’s mitt. The ball
slammed into the mitt with a loud snap that echoed throughout the air. The
impact sent the soldier’s mitt into his chest and the full brunt of the pitch
knocked him flat onto his back. The catcher’s mask slipped off his head and
tumbled behind him.

Hiroshi stood up with a
satisfied smug look on his face and he thought that perhaps the daily water-pumping
exercise was actually good for something.

There was simply silence. Some
of the soldiers simply looked on in awe as the whole event transpired in
milliseconds. During the exchange, they watched doubtfully as Hiroshi wound up
his pitch but could barely keep their eye on the ball before it slammed into
the catcher’s mitt. It was the fastest fastball they ever saw.

“Kiddache! Looks like the
Jap can throw after all,” someone yelled as a few of the soldiers erupted in
laughter.

Private Kiddache looked up
from his stunned supine position and then looked down at the ball that had
firmly settled into his glove. He turned his head to his right and let out a
cough.

Hiroshi was quite satisfied
with himself and took delight in the moment. He nodded smugly in the direction
of the flattened soldier who sat upright from his position. Hiroshi then turned
away and started to walk back to meet Minami. He was so late and hoped that she
was still waiting for him.

“Hey wait! Wait up,”
shouted the low voice from behind.

Hiroshi turned and saw
another soldier walking up to him. He was an older man in his mid-forties, with
thick dark grayish hair and a strong build. He had slightly puffy cheeks but
strong dark eyes. He was a captain, according to the stripes on his shoulder.

“Where did you learn to
pitch like that?” asked the captain.

“Just back at home and in
the few games that I’ve played with friends.”

“I didn’t know you folks
played the game.”

“Just every now and then,”
replied Hiroshi with some resignation.

“Well I’ll probably get in
trouble for this, but I’m the coach for this sorry-ass team and that’s Captain
Askeeny’s team. Our pitcher is just plain awful. Couldn’t hit the side of a
barn if you know what I mean,” the captain said with a chuckle. “So I was
thinking, if you like, since I’m sure you’re looking for something to do, why
don’t you play on my team?”

Hiroshi stared at the captain
in disbelief. “You want me to play? I don’t think I can leave the perimeter.”

The captain gave Hiroshi a
disbelieving look and turned his gaze out into the desert and then back. “Where
would you go?”

Hiroshi had to smile at the
captain’s candor. “I guess you’re right, there is nowhere I could go.”

“Good, nothing will make me
happier than for our team to beat the other team. The general thought it would be
good for building troop morale but it’s a pain in the ass if you ask me. Also,
that Kiddache fella that you knocked down, has been a pain in the ass too,
taunting us for our bad pitching,” added the captain.

Hiroshi felt emboldened and
offered, “I can also hit.”

“Boy, if you can bat as
well as you can pitch, then you have to play on my team,” said the captain with
a laugh. “Damn, you’re like a natural aren’t you? Though you’re a Jap and all.”

“Japanese…Japanese American.
I was born in Los Angeles,” said Hiroshi in a firm tone.

The captain then glared
back at Hiroshi. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if the captain was offended for
being corrected but his glare disappeared as his eyes widened and he let out a
hearty laugh. “And you got some attitude too! What’s your name son?”

“Hiroshi…Hiroshi Satoh,”
stated Hiroshi proudly.

“Captain Doxers. Just call
me coach from here on. Why don’t you come back tomorrow morning and I’ll let
you throw a few.”

Hiroshi couldn’t believe
the captain’s offer and gladly accepted it with a firm handshake. He then
turned away from the field and jogged back to the water pump to meet Minami.

* * *

“You’re late,” said Minami
with some curtness.

But instead of apologizing,
Hiroshi simply rushed toward Minami and picked her up from around her waist and
spun her around. Minami was taken aback by the boisterous gesture and laughed.
He then let her body slide slowly through his arms until she was on her own two
feet and he placed a quick kiss on Minami’s lips. She kissed him right back and
was astonished by his gaiety on an otherwise normal morning.

“The most wonderful thing
just happened, Minami!” said Hiroshi excitedly.

In a tone of equal
excitement Minami asked, “And what would that be?”

“I’m going to play
baseball!” yelled out Hiroshi.

Minami’s response wasn’t
exactly the same. She didn’t understand as her expression turned to one of
confusion and re-questioned Hiroshi. “You’re going to do
what
?”

“This morning, as I was
coming over here. I saw some soldiers playing baseball and by chance, the ball
landed near me. So I picked it up and this annoying soldier asked for the ball
back and he wasn’t very nice about it. So I wanted to show him that I could
throw so I threw the ball at him as hard as I could and it knocked him flat on
his back. I just figured I prove to them white boys that this one-hundred-percent
Japanese American can throw just as good… no, better than them! And then their
coach, who is this captain, asked me to play because he was really impressed
with my throw. So I agreed!” said Hiroshi as he recounted the morning’s event
to Minami.

Minami’s expression was
muted. She merely looked up at him and wasn’t sure how to respond. “But you’re
not one of them,” said Minami.

“I know, but it’s still
baseball. It’s still two teams playing a game of baseball. You just have to
understand how happy this makes me, Minami. I get to play baseball!”

Minami found Hiroshi’s
happiness infectious and slowly her skepticism gave way to happiness. She still,
however, had her doubts. “But you’re not a boy anymore playing a game.”

“You should have seen the
coach–he was really old and he was still playing baseball. Alright, he was the
coach and all but baseball is for everyone, it’s just the love of the game that
matters, Minami!” exclaimed Hiroshi.

Minami giggled as Hiroshi
twirled her in the air once more and let her settle into his arms. If he was
happy, then she would be happy for him as well. But she couldn’t help but feel
she was suddenly losing him to his love for baseball just when she felt she had
just captured his affection the previous night. She was a little selfishly
disappointed that with the new distraction, he may not have time for her
anymore. “Can I watch?” Minami asked with some hesitation.

Hiroshi looked down at her
and his expression turned to one of joy. “Of course you can watch. I’m not sure
how many games they’ll be playing though but I would really want you to be
there. That way, you can see how much better I am than these guys,” Hiroshi said
with a wink. “I want you to see every batter I strike out and every home run I
hit too.”

Minami gave an exaggerated
sigh and shook her head in disbelief at Hiroshi’s cockiness. A side that she hadn’t
seen before but something she found strangely appealing. Hiroshi was pretty
sure of himself and she would definitely watch Hiroshi make good on every claim
he made.

“And for every home run or
every strike, I get a kiss from you,” said Hiroshi.

Minami looked at him in
disbelief and teasingly said, “Well you’ll have to hit a home run first.”

Hiroshi picked Minami up
again and spun her around as she laughed and begged him to stop. He stopped
once more and allowed her to settle on her own two feet and she looked up at
him with a smile. “Well here’s one for good luck then.”