A Catastrophic Blessing | Flash Fiction

 

Photo by Krisztina Papp on Unsplash

There had only been one plane. They’d turned off the bomb sirens because there was only one plane. There wasn’t any real damage one enemy plane could do.

Kai was having a nightmare; a crumbling market lit by feverish fires. Merchants of no noses and lidless eyes watched him as he walked. Naked figures groped about as if blind. The wares of this marketplace were even more terrible; boiled octopuses the size of men, limbs all bloody and twisted; human-shaped dolls, shrunken and shriveled. Somewhere, a great batch of squid was being dried, the air was clotted with the smell of it. Through this hellish market Kai stumbled, calling out for his sister, his father, anyone. Others called out names too, names he didn’t recognize. No one bothered to help him. The street was carpeted with bodies, as though in a stupor of drunkenness. Some groaned as Kai went past, others, even when he profusely apologized for tripping over them, didn’t move at all. Kai wanted to wake up; he wanted to see the solid walls of his home again and smell the freshly sliced peaches his mother had just got. But the dream persisted.

A familiar face caught Kai’s attention, it was Kenji, one of his classmates. Kai started running to greet him, but his jubilation died as he drew closer. His friend was in a bad state, half-naked and great gashes across his chest oozed puss and blood. There were other boys here too, all huddled together in a tight circle. Most were faces Kai recognized, from his own school. Some of them hung their heads between their knees, all of them were covered in rubble and soot.

“Kenji,” Kai’s voice was thick with grief, “Kenji, let’s go home.” His friend didn’t acknowledge him. He stared at nothing and picked at boils on his face.

“This is home.” A different boy answered instead, his breathing labored and his voice dull. Kai shook his head.

“No, this is a bad place.” He couldn’t keep the tears back, he wiped at them with embarrassment. “Let’s go home. Let’s go home!” Kai tried to pull the nearest boy to his feet, but the boy screamed in pain and Kai let go, heart pounding. Finally, Kenji spoke.

“Tell our sisters and our mothers to not waste any more time looking for us. We are already dead.”

Although he knew this was only a dream, terror grabbed hold of Kai. He fled from the sight of his classmates, running past all the drunken bodies and the piled-up octopus men. He didn’t stop running, through fire and smoking ruins, searching for the way out of this nightmare. Finally he was forced to stop; a great river dropped beneath him and the bridge was out. People were swimming in the water, so many that there wasn’t any room left to move. Indeed, none of them were moving. Kai spun around, heart pounding in alarm, turning his back to the sight. Instead, he found himself gazing at the place where he’d just come from; the market and its buildings, all of its buildings, gone. The mountains on the horizon looked so large now; the whole sky was so big it swallowed him whole. Kai didn’t like this dream, he didn’t like it at all. A hand touched his shoulder and he flinched. It was Mr. Sachi, one of his teachers.

“Kai, where is your family?” Mr. Sachi’s hands were bleeding. Kai pinched himself, and Mr. Sachi asked again; “Where is your family, Kai?” Kai pointed at the vast blackened plain.

“They were right behind me… and…” He pinched himself harder; why would he not wake up? “After the flash, I… could only find their shadows.” He whispered. Kai’s legs gave way underneath him. Mr. Sachi put a hand on the weeping boy’s head.

“Come, I have a house in the country. You will live with me.” He said. As Kai got up and followed the man, he remembered the taste of the peaches, so sweet and refreshing on his tongue. Peaches were such a rarity now, with the rations, that his family only had a half each; they were going to save the rest for another day. When he woke up, he would go and eat another one, Kai decided. They were probably on the table still, where his mother had left them.

When the bomb was dropped and we got the news, we all cheered, didn’t we? We all cheered for the blessing of victory.

Author's Note: This story was inspired by the book Hiroshima Diary: The Journal of a Japanese Physician by Michihiko Hachiya. The book affected me so strongly I had to express some of the imagery through this story because I feel that, as an Americain, there's a lot we're unaware of about the consequences of that bomb. Most of the images come directly from Michihiko Hachiya's first-hand account, and even the scene with the schoolboys is straight from his writings, so I cannot in good conscience send this story out to be published as an original piece. I still feel as though it is an important story to share though, so I've given it a home here. The anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima is August 6, and like many points in history, it is good not to forget. Before we rush into celebrating victory, in the future, I hope we take a moment to honor the cost that the victory came at.