Stories of the Sky God: Spider's Web of Fiction

Independence Day

Stories of the Sky-God 16 Independence Day July 4, 1944 Beneath the cement foundations of the motel, the ancient spirits of the people conspire sacred tricks. They tell stories and jokes and laugh and laugh. Simon Ortiz, “Washyuma Motor Hotel” Matt and Paul fell asleep that night, their beds side by side, talking about freedom in English. They heard an occasional explosion, and Paul said he hoped the Japanese weren’t killing people. “I don’t understand what’s keeping the Americans,” Matt said. “Don’t they know what’s happening to us?” “They know,” Paul said. “They’ve seen the Philippines.” “I miss the movies,” Matt said. Through the window he saw the stars still gleaming in the clear night sky over Guam. “And the radio,” Paul said. “If we could only have a radio when we wanted it.” “If I could be in two places,” Matt said, “I’d be up there and down here with Mom and you kids.” Matt was watching the stars. “It’s funny how you can see into the sparkling darkness and you can’t get away.” In the other room he heard his little sister, Josephine, say “Good night, Mother” for the first time and his mother answer “Good night, Josie. Sleep tight.” Josey had been afraid of the dark since the first time the Japanese came at night and took their father away. Now, she often called out far into the night and sometimes had nightmares, screaming in her sleep. Matt knew the little kids were hungry and often scared. He told them 17 the stories about the old days when they had plenty to eat and they didn’t have to be afraid. There were fourteen children. There might have been sixteen, or at least fifteen, if it hadn’t been for the war. Little Franklin Delano hadn’t had a chance. He was born into the hunger. Matt wondered if President Roosevelt knew how much the people loved him and prayed for the Americans that were not condemned to die slowly this way. “I can’t imagine being free to live,” Matt said. He heard Fred tell his mother that he thought he saw an American plane earlier in the afternoon. “Maybe,” Josephine said. “Go to sleep now, and tomorrow we will go see Auntie Rita.” In the darkness, Matt dreamed. He was in a camp where fear ruled. The fence was high but he was outside the latticed wire. First, he heard the people talking. “If we kill ourselves, the cowards won’t hurt us anymore,” one voice said. Then Matt stood, holding hands with a shadowy lady and looking over the cliff at Two Lover’s Point. They looked down to the deep water below as the surf disappeared beneath the cliff. The height made him dizzy; but for the first time he was not afraid. He leaned into the wind and her soft hand held him in its firm grasp. Suddenly, over loud speakers came, “The Hawaiian Wedding Song,” and another voice saying, “Did you hear what happened in Merizo? If there were only somewhere to hide.” Then, Matt rode a large white horse like one he had seen in a movie and he was singing “You’ll never walk alone” to the beautiful girl with long flowing hair. She rode behind him on the horse now, her hands on his waist. There was no saddle and the horse came dangerously close to the cliff. Matt saw the Japanese. First, they were in his dream going over the cliff, and he thought We have escaped them. They are sheep, tumbling off the cliff, men, women and children. Some of them are driving the camouflaged vehicles off the cliff. Then, they stood in the doorway to his and Paul’s room; and Matt realized he was awake and soldiers had come like before. They stood, weapons in their hands with bayonets fixed. One of them held a lantern that lighted their mask like faces in the darkness. Matt’s fear made him see their pale faces float like evil spirits, independent of their bodies, their eyes showing as black holes. “Get dressed. Now!” one of them said, pointing his bayonet in their direction. Paul stood up too quickly, exclaiming in English, “Oh shit!” without thinking. Matt winced at the blow from the rifle butt that smacked Paul’s face like a bat hitting a softball, and knocked him backwards over the bed. Independence Day: July 4...