The Purple Heart (3 page)

“No problem. Just making
sure no one messes with my buddy’s girl,” Tom said with a smile.

Aiko then gave Tom a quick
up-and-down look as she noticed his black boots, blue jeans, camel colored
sports coat, and body-hugging gray crewneck T-shirt with the Marine logo across
the chest, and asked teasingly, “So, is this your version of business casual?”

Tom smirked, “I’m a Marine,
not some fashionista,” said Tom followed by a laugh that Aiko also shared in.

“Well, if it’s fashion
advice that you’re in need of, I might know of someone…” said Aiko. She stopped
mid-sentence when she noticed Cat coming back to the bar. “And speak of the
devil, it’s Cat!”

Cat came back with a
teasing smile on her face and winked at Aiko as she reached out to Tom and gave
him a warm hug. Tom was defenseless to resist, and almost lifted her off her
feet as she giggled. Once she found her two feet back on the ground, she
motioned to the bartender a few feet away, who came over with a nod of his head.
Aiko turned back to the bar to pick up the cocktail menu when Cat grabbed her
hand.

“Hon, it’s Friday night,
we’re going to do a shot to start the night off right!” exclaimed Cat. She
turned toward the bar, placed her right elbow onto the edge of the bar and
stretched a bit onto her tiptoes to elongate her figure and slender legs, and
ordered three shots. She then turned back toward Aiko with a smile and asked,
“Do you think he caught all of that?”

Aiko smiled and gave a
quick nod as they both suddenly heard Tom clear his throat. The two women
giggled and turned back toward Tom, who was looking at and fumbling with his
locked smart phone.

“And besides, it’s your
birthday soon and since you’re going to be away, Tom and I are treating you to
dinner.”

“No!” protested Aiko as her
beaming smile showed her feigned protest as she leaned in to hug Cat just as
the bartender finished pouring the last shot, something that was clear and
potent. As the women embraced, Tom snuck in behind Cat toward the bar, barely
brushing up against her and presented the bartender with his credit card.

Cat had noticed that Tom
was behind her, leaned back a bit and deliberately brushed up against Tom’s
thigh and simply said, “Very smooth muscles. And you’re a gentleman too.”

Tom smiled and then caught
Aiko looking in his direction approvingly and carefully handed each her shot
glass. Cat took a step a back so that she could see both Aiko and Tom and then,
with pomp, raised her shot glass toward Aiko, “Happy early birthday! May all
your wishes come true!”

“Thank you guys,” responded
Aiko with good cheer as they clinked their shot glasses in unison and threw
their heads back to swallow the potent liquor that Cat had ordered. Aiko
squinted and coughed as she brought her forearm to her mouth and asked with a
gasping laugh, “On my lord, what was that?”

Cat looked at Tom and saw
that the shot did not affect him as he stood seemingly at attention. She then
gleefully said to Aiko, “That was Grey Goose, the best vodka ever!” She then
proceeded to give Aiko another warm hug when Vic called over to let them know
that their table was ready.

At dinner, the three
enjoyed a delightful modern Italian dinner, paired with wine and the
conversations always ended up with laughter and there were side orders of
flirtations between Cat and Tom that Aiko couldn’t help notice. Cat had
recently met Tom, and it was immediate that Tom was interested but it took a
little time before Cat warmed up to him. Though it turned out to be Aiko’s
night, she was tickled by the amorous chemistry between the two. That night was
hopefully the start of something that Aiko wholeheartedly encouraged. While
that was going on, Aiko couldn’t help glancing at the empty seat next to her
and thinking about her boyfriend, who would usually be there before his
unexpected trip took him away.

“Earth to Aiko. Earth to
Aiko,” Cat said with a smile.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, my mind
wandered off…” Aiko took in a deep breath as she could feel the wooziness of
the one too many drinks that she had been encouraged to take.

“Well maybe I, I meant
we
,”
said Cat as she looked at Tom. “Maybe we can help with that as I spy their
famous tiramisu headed our way.”

As if on cue, Tom handed
his phone to Aiko, who looked perplexed. Tom positioned the phone within view
of Aiko, enticing her to look down and when she did, she smiled uncontrollably
as she saw her boyfriend’s name, Jonathan. She quickly snatched the phone away
from Tom’s hands, brushed her silky hair away and brought the phone to her ear.

“Hey,” said Aiko in the
sweetest of tones. Cat watched Aiko and was happy seeing the smile on her
friend’s face. Aiko unexpectedly became one of her best friends in D.C. She was
the only one who didn’t judge her and could put up with her sometimes brash and
straightforward manner, and she appreciated that. Cat turned her attention back
to Tom, who already had an inviting forkful of the tiramisu ready for her to
devour. She looked at Tom, took notice of his short military crew cut and
everything that was so wrong with his sense of fashion but for whatever reason
she couldn’t deny his appeal. He was starting to melt her heart with those
stern but adorable eyes of his. She leaned in and devoured the forkful of
decadent tiramisu.

After seeing the two off,
Tom went his separate way. Along the ride home, Cat was definitely happy,
tapping the steering wheel and tossing her head slightly from side to side to
the beat of the music once more. Tom was her mental dessert.

As Aiko started to succumb
to the effects of the night’s shots and glasses of wine, her thoughts started
to return to her grandfather. It was only about 1 A.M. and with Cat’s driving,
she knew she’d be home in time to call her father. It wouldn’t be too late with
the three-hour time difference.

Before long, Cat’s car
purred to a stop in front of Aiko’s place. The two women shared another quick
laugh and exchanged hugs before Aiko opened the car door and stepped out into
the night air, which had a sense of anticipation to it. Aiko made her way up
the steps to the front door, jiggled the lock with her keys until it gave way,
and stepped through as Cat drove away.

Aiko walked up the steps,
which creaked even more loudly at that time of night. She opened the door to her
apartment, gently shut the door, and deadbolted it. What must her landlord
think? A young woman like her coming home at such an hour could only conjure
misconceptions, she thought.

It was 1:35 A.M. when Aiko
settled herself back into her favorite spot and took out her cell phone from
her purse. She took a few good deep breaths to clear her head of the buzz and
blinked a few times to focus. She leaned back against the sofa and willed
herself to relax as she pondered the next few moments.

She was nervous about
talking with her father. As an only child, he had grown up to be independent.
He had a tendency to be quite stubborn at times and was quick to lose his
temper if pushed. She wasn’t sure if her father had an element of resentment
toward the father he never knew and whether or not bringing up the topic would
bring that out.

The face of the cell phone
stared back at her and finally, with deliberation, she swiped down to “Home”
among her contacts, clicked on it and slid the phone in between her ear and hair.
She listened intently with some trepidation as the phone started to ring. After
the second ring, the phone picked up with a familiar voice.

“Aiko, you’re calling so
late. Is everything okay?” asked her father in his low voice.

“Hi to you too Dad,” said
Aiko deliberately. “How’s Mom doing?”

“She’s good.”

“And you? Are you
exercising like the doctor asked you to?”

“That’s between me and the
doctor. No need to worry yourself.”

“Dad.”

“Yes?”

“Dad. I just need to ask
you a question.”

“Sure, go ahead but make it
quick. I’m about to go to sleep.”

Aiko paused for a little
bit and then plainly said, “It’s about Grandpa.”

For a moment, she didn’t
know if her father would respond. Her question was quite abrupt. There was a
silence that she dreaded with each seemingly long second that passed. But her
father did respond.

“Aiko, it’s late. Why do
you want to bring up your grandfather now? I’ve told you everything you needed
to know about him,” he said calmly.

With a renewed sense of
purpose, Aiko started from the beginning and told her father about Joey’s
drawing. She told him how she thought the drawing was just going to be of a
child’s grandfather who fought in World War II as part of the 442
^nd
.
Then she told him about the stunning discovery of her grandfather’s nickname, “Home
Run,” though innocently misspelled, written underneath one of the men drawn by
Joey. His grandfather may have actually known her grandfather.

Her father listened with
incredulity, and after Aiko finished, he paused and simply said, “There isn’t
anything more you need to know. It’s just a big coincidence. There was probably
a lot of young Japanese American men at that time that had nicknames. ‘Home Run’
was probably a common one.”

“How can you be so sure,
Dad?”

“I don’t want to talk about
this now.”

Perhaps it was the effect
of the drinks from dinner, but this time she had the audacity to challenge her
father. “Dad, maybe you’re not the best person to ask. Maybe I should call
Grandma?”

There was a silence on the
phone. She knew she had gotten to her father and the next move was his.

“Don’t bother your
grandmother about this,” he said with a strident tone.

“I will because I cannot
get the answers from you!” Aiko replied in an almost defiant tone. She knew she
couldn’t turn back. She needed to know.

Aiko abruptly interjected
“Well?”

Her father spoke.

“Your grandfather was a
deserter.”

There was an unnerving
silence between daughter and father. The family secret was out. Aiko’s buzz
suddenly vanished. She was simply stunned by her father’s words. Her father
said it in such a matter of fact manner. This was the reason why her
grandfather was rarely spoken of within the family and why there weren’t any
pictures.

“Satisfied?” Aiko’s father
said under his breath.

Aiko hesitated. She wasn’t
sure how to respond and simply said, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t
know? I just told you the very thing that I’ve been trying to hide from you
since you were born! It’s our family dishonor, Aiko! It’s a burden that I’ve
been keeping to myself all these years ever since I found that letter from the U.S.
Army and now that you know, you have to carry it as well!”

Aiko could tell in her
father’s voice that he was angry and agitated, but his last words wavered with
emotion. She forced something from him that he had carried with him all of his
life and he wasn’t happy that he allowed her to goad him into unsheathing the
family dishonor. It was now her burden as well. She wasn’t sure if she
regretted her action to press her father for the truth. Finding out her
grandfather was a wartime deserter was not what she was expecting.

“Aiko,” said her father in
his normal but tired voice.

There was moment of
hesitation from Aiko, “Yes?”

“Go to sleep, leave it
alone. It’s best.”

Aiko wasn’t sure how to
respond and simply replied with, “Good night Dad.” She heard her father hang up
the phone as it went eerily silent. Aiko looked at her phone for a moment
before putting it down on the coffee table. She stared off into the direction
of the kitchen, her eyes glazed over as they reflected the dim light from the
living room light fixture. She was at a loss with the realization as her eyes
swept the room. Everything was quiet, even the furniture seemed to be quietly
sleeping. It was close to 2 A.M.

Aiko refocused and brought
her eyes back to Joey’s drawing. It was the innocent drawing that made her so
curious, that revealed the family dishonor. In the dim light, it made the
drawing almost more real, putting the scene into a world of darkness as men
desperately fought one another. It was a reality that she could not imagine
herself in, but it was a reality for many people sixty years before her time.
Her eyes rested on the body of her grandfather. His chest splattered with
crayon crimson red. Aiko closed her eyes and gently massaged them with her
fingers. Then she recalled that Joey had said his grandfather had lost his best
friend in the war.

If her grandfather, the
accused deserter, were Joey’s grandfather’s best friend, would he really take
the time to tell his grandchild about it? Dishonor was a very serious issue in Japanese
American culture. If someone did something dishonorable, it would shame the
family, and friends would also distance themselves. So why would Joey’s
grandfather still refer to her grandfather as his best friend?

She arched her head back as
her hair swayed backwards and closed her eyes again. She then brought her gaze
back onto the drawing and decided that there was more to the drawing. She would
talk to Joey on Monday morning, she thought. But first, she would do the one
thing her father would not approve of. She would call her grandmother. Her
grandmother may not know the truth, since she wasn’t in the war, but at least
Aiko might get a hint of what kind of man her grandfather was. With that, she
gently placed the drawing above the photo album. She let out a sigh and headed
off to her bedroom.

The next morning, Aiko woke
up and headed to her favorite café. With her mocha latte simmering beside her,
along with her barely-touched Danish, she surfed the Web for everything she
could find on the Japanese American army regiment her grandfather was part of,
the 442
^nd
Regimental Combat Team.

The initial search yielded
limited results, reinforcing the fact that the Japanese American experience was
a mere footnote in American history. Aiko was disappointed, but she began to
diligently click on each link.

One of the sites had a mere
picture of a soldier standing outside an army barrack. It was a family web
site, created by another grandchild to remember his grandfather. It was Aiko’s
first real picture of someone who served in the 442
^nd
. Did he know
her grandfather? She wondered. The third web site yielded more information,
chronologically detailing the entire contribution of Japanese American men in
World War II. Her eyes widened as she began her first self-education of her
grandfather’s past.

The plight of the Japanese
Americans started on December 7, 1941 with the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Through
Executive Order 9066, signed by then-President Roosevelt, 120,000 Japanese
Americans on the west coast, of which 80,000 were American born, were corralled
and relocated to ten internment camps, euphemistically called relocation
centers. She was surprised to learn that another group of Japanese American
soldiers had actually preceded the 442
^nd
. It was the 100
^th
battalion. It consisted of Japanese American men from Hawaii, many of whom were
already part of the Hawaiian National Guard. The 442
^nd
was formed
thereafter from volunteers primarily from the internment camps. Patriotism was
on full display when men volunteered to serve a government that also interned
them and their families.

Aiko took a few more bites
from her Danish and a couple of more sips from her mocha latte before
continuing. The 100
^th
battalion entered the European Theater first,
just when the 442
^nd
entered basic training. The 100
^th
was
eventually merged into the 442
^nd
when they arrived in Europe. The
442
^nd
proved itself as it fought and won battles that the white
regiments could not win. But what pleased Aiko were the following numbers: twenty-two
Congressional Medals of Honor, fifty-two Distinguished Service Crosses, 560
Silver Stars, 4,000 Bronze stars and the most astonishing number, 9,486 Purple
Hearts. The 442
^nd
, a regiment whose patriotism was doubted, proved
to everyone that its heart was truly American and became the most decorated
army regiment during World War II.

She leaned back into her
seat with her fingertips idled on the keyboard and relaxed for a moment. A rush
of pride ran through Aiko. She couldn’t explain it, but she was proud and was
experiencing the beginnings of an overdue appreciation of the sacrifices of a
generation of Japanese Americans before her.

Aiko had perused about
seven sites and with each one, she learned more. She had already jotted down
four pages of brief notes when she finished her coffee. She looked out the
window, and it was an ordinary Saturday afternoon. People were going about
their errands, and couples walked amorously hand in hand along the quiet
street. It was the American way of life, and it took brave individuals many
decades ago to fight for it so that her generation could appreciate it. Her
eyes turned to her laptop screen and with curiosity, typed in another search
term: Purple Heart. There were more than 9,000 Purple Hearts awarded to Japanese
American soldiers alone, and she wanted to learn more about the specific act
that would make a soldier deserving of the Purple Heart. Her search answered
her question. The Purple Heart was a combat decoration, awarded to any soldier
who was wounded or killed in battle at the hands of the enemy.

For a moment, the stark
realization hit Aiko. Her grandfather would not have received the Purple Heart
if he were a deserter. An invisible heavy weight suddenly fell onto Aiko. Her
fingers stiffened. But she remembered Joey’s drawing that depicted her
grandfather shot, and she could only assume that the wound was from the enemy.
She was confused. Which version of her grandfather’s past was true? Was he a
deserter, or was he fatally shot as depicted in the drawing?

Her mind wandered back to
the conversation that she had with her father the night before. She wasn’t sure
how to broach the subject with her grandmother. Would her father have called
her grandmother to warn her ahead of time? Would she not want to talk about
Grandpa if she indeed knew that he was a deserter? Then again, did she even
know that her own son knew? If that was the truth, would her grandmother think
it would be wiser to keep it a secret than to let it pass down to the next
generation?

Aiko ate the last bite of her
Danish and sipped the dregs of her cold mocha latte. She frowned at the bitter
taste of it and put it aside. The day was over. She wanted to rush home and
talk to her grandmother. She closed her laptop and proceeded to gather her
things. The day was a bit cooler, with the sun beginning to set. There were
still streaks of the sun raking over the city horizon, as it faded into a
reddish and purplish sunset against a bluish sky that was being slowly engulfed
in darkness.

The new knowledge that Aiko
gathered about her grandparents’ generation was overwhelming. She tried to
digest each bit of it. But at the same time, a heavy emotion lingered over each
thought and that was disappointment. Disappointment that her generation didn’t
know much about the unjust plight of Japanese Americans during World War II,
and she was certain that there was more that she didn’t know.

Soon enough, she was back
in her apartment. She took a moment to hang up her coats from the previous
night, which were lying on the hallway chair. She slipped out of her shoes and
walked over to the coffee table, propped up her bag against it, and placed her
cell phone on top. She made her way into the kitchen to prepare tea.

After she poured the
boiling water into her teacup, she walked back to the sofa and took a small sip
before placing it on a coaster. She sat on the sofa as she pondered what she
would say to her grandmother. How would she bring up the topic? Minutes passed
until finally, she straightened herself up. With a resigned sigh, she picked up
the cell phone and swiped through the contact list for her grandmother’s
number. Without any further hesitation, she clicked on the number and brought
the phone to her ear. The phone rang once, then a second time. Maybe her
grandmother was out? Should she leave a message if she wasn’t in? But on the
third ring, she heard the familiar voice of her grandmother.