Free So Far from the Bamboo Grove by Yoko Kawashima Watkins Page B

at the back. “Wake up now, Little One. The doctor was here but he let you sleep. He wants to change your dressing.” She handed me a damp cloth and I wiped my face. “Here is the canteen. Wash your mouth outside and go see the doctor.”
    My ear felt no better and I could not hold my head upright. The doctor took out the cotton, wet with pus, cleaned with the swab, and dropped in more medicine. Again I shed tears with the pain. He told me the swelling would go away and that I must have complete rest. Then the medic bandaged my chest.
    I was leaving when the doctor stopped me andhanded me a bottle of milk . “Each patient has a bottle a day,” he told me.
    I stared at the creamy milk. Holding the precious treasure in both hands, I stood still. Then I gathered my courage. “May I beg two more bottles?”
    â€œFor your honorable mother and sister?” the doctor asked. I nodded. He nodded too, and the medic gave me two more. I bowed to them deeply and walked as fast as I could to where Mother waited.
    I stayed in the hospital tent two weeks, Mother and Ko taking turns being with me. As I watched Mother walking now I saw that her walk was feeble. She seemed smaller and smaller.
    Either Mother or Ko was always at the station, waiting for Hideyo’s arrival. But there was no Hideyo.
    On September first the doctor spoke with Mother. “All patients will leave for Pusan by truck by the end of the month. A hospital ship will be leaving from there for Japan on October second. Come with us back to our homeland.”
    But Mother would wait for Hideyo. So on the last day of my hospital stay, Doctor Takeda gave us three bottles of milk, extra bandages, medicines, and cotton. He said I had made a good recovery but must take things easy and not catch a cold. He gave me a bottle of aspirin. “One tablet every three hours when the pain comes.” He and Mother promised to meet in the homeland, fate willing.
    We carried all of our belongings back to the station. The station was crowded with escapees from the north who had not found homes, Japanese soldiers released from the army, and civilians, all wanting to take the train to Pusan.
    We sat outside and whenever a train, passenger or freight, pulled in, Mother and Ko would dash to the platform. I was to save our spot and guard our belongings. No Hideyo.
    We drank some milk.
    There was no food when night came. Then Ko said there would be no train until early morning and we must sleep. We found a small space on a bench in the waiting room and Ko squeezed Mother into it. She pushed our clothes bundle under the bench and she and I catnapped at Mother’s feet.
    As the night advanced I was so cold that I shivered, and my ear and chest ached. I crawled out. “I’m cold!” I said to Mother.
    She took me on her lap and wrapped us both in her blanket. Secure in her arms, I went to sleep. But some time later there was a violent altercation with the man next to Mother, who complained that I had kicked him. I hadn’t meant to. But Mother told Ko to give her the clothes bundle, and she pulled out my red overcoat and got it on me. She got out the Communist Army uniform and ordered me to put it on over the overcoat. Then she sent me back to my bed under the bench, where I cuddled up to Ko for warmth.
    Mother was on the platform when the early trainpulled in. Our neighbor tried to take her place while she was gone, but Ko said she would kill him with her peeling knife and he backed off. Mother came back without Hideyo and we drank the last of our milk.
    â€œI will go and find food,” Ko said, and took her empty rucksack. Another train came in and Mother rushed to the platform.
    Then an elderly Japanese crawled under the bench and tried to take our clothes bundle. He claimed it was his. It was only when Mother returned and shouted, “Help! Thief!” that he gave up.
    Ko came back with her rucksack partly filled with food from the