United States of Japan Read Free Page A

to?”
    “Why do I have to change my name?”
    “Didn’t you hear the lieutenant last night? All of us will get Japanese names,” Ruth stated.
    “I like Ezekiel Song.”
    “You can keep your western name as a nickname, but you’ll get to adopt a formal name too.”
    “I’ll become Ishimura,” Ezekiel said.
    “Really?”
    “If that’s OK with you.”
    “Of course. Are you being serious?”
    “Yeah. Unless you were thinking of changing yours?”
    She smiled. “I guess that doesn’t make sense. What about your first name?”
    “Any suggestions?”
    “What about Naoki?”
    “What’s that mean?”
    “Docile tree.”
    “No, thanks. What are you changing your name to?”
    “We’re still on you. The… Why are we stopping?”
    Outside, the buses were stuck in a long line of vehicles. Ahead of them was a huge camp with multiple marquee tents, all massive, bustling with soldiers and civilians. Surrounding them were military transports, tanks, and enormous air balloons. Several fighter planes flew past them. As far as they could see, traffic was at a standstill. The driver got a message on his radio and reported to everyone, “There’s some fighting going on south of here, so we’ve been advised to break here for the night. They’re going to set up tents and cots.”
    Ruth was happy for the chance to stretch her legs and they quickly made their way off the bus. She gestured at the tents and said, “Race you?”
    “Is that OK?” Ezekiel asked, looking down at her belly.
    “Exercise is good for the body,” she said, and bolted before he could begin.
    Everyone was getting out of their buses so they couldn’t run fast even if they wanted to. They focused on avoiding obstacles like families, impatient adults, and bewildered spectators wondering what was going on, intimidated by the fighter planes zipping by above.
    “Look at all those balloons!” Ruth shouted to Ezekiel. There were hundreds of them on the other side of the camp, arrayed in long lines, half of them deflated, others ready to soar. “They’re so pretty. Wonder what they’re for.”
    “Don’t try to distract me!” Ezekiel yelled back, as he caught up and then sped past her.
    That caused several men who saw Ruth behind Ezekiel to say in jovial ribbing, “He should be chasing you!”
    A throng of young boys got in Ezekiel’s way so that Ruth regained the lead.
    “You both should be running away from the fighting!” one man jokingly shouted.
    Ruth beat him to the tents. Immediately, the fetid smell of the wounded bombarded her. A fat man and a little boy were running around in circles yelling, “Gorilla, gorilla, gorilla, gorilla, gorilla!”
    Ezekiel arrived, mystified by the weird serenade of gorillas.
    Doctors were busily tending to the injured. The soldiers weren’t the traditional ones she’d seen in the past with conservative haircuts and uniforms. Instead, they dyed their hair in a variety of colors, including purple, orange, and green, some with flat tops and others with spiky hair that looked like it took hours to compose. They weren’t all Japanese and the soldiers came from a variety of ethnicities, caring for the wounded of which there seemed to be thousands. Inside the tent it was much darker, and it took a minute for their pupils to acclimate. As the black pits within their irises expanded, more of the terror seeped in. Subconsciously, both of their hands found each other’s. There were Asians, even more Caucasians, African-Americans, and people of Latino heritage. Many of them had their flesh stripped away, so it was impossible to tell who was of what race. Muscles, burnt skin, and askew limbs were prevalent. They were coated with soot, ash people who looked like they were going to crumble. The odor of shit, vomit, and fire intensified their sense of repulsion. A woman was holding a charred baby in her arms, refusing to let go. Multiple people cried out for missing family members. A young girl had most of her hair