The Last Paper Crane by Kerry Drewery

Author:Kerry Drewery [Kerry Drewery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 2020-09-21T00:00:00+00:00

I think of the doctor, and how many patients he had and how little time. I take one last look over the city of so many injured, where my life was and my hopes were.

‘I will make it one fewer,’ I say. ‘More time and chance for those who deserve it. I make this sacrifice for them.’

Pulling in one final breath, I close my eyes and lean forward. For a moment, I feel the air against my skin, and then I feel nothing at all.

Gentle chatter.

A soft beeping.

Wheels across a hard floor.

I hear sounds first.

The click of a door.

A rustle of paper.

‘He’s waking.’ A woman’s voice, an unfamiliar accent.

My eyelids flutter against the whiteness, blinking into focus on a shape in front of them. A round face appears, dark hair, brown eyes, a slow smile.

‘Who are you?’ my voice croaks.

‘I work here.’

My vision floats around the room: white beds, white ceiling, white walls, white pillows.

‘Where am I?’

‘A hospital in Tokyo,’ she says.

I close my eyes, open them again, yet everything still looks the same. I sigh and shake my head.

‘I don’t understand,’ I say. ‘How did I get here? Why am I here?’

‘You were brought here from Hiroshima.’

‘But –’

‘You were in the Red Cross Hospital. You were in a very bad way …’

‘No,’ I say.

‘It’s not surprising you don’t remember …’

‘No …’ I try to think … to remember … the white … the bomb … heat … we found Keiko … Hiro died … walked to the hospital … abandoned Keiko …

Keiko, I think.

I drag my legs around the side of the bed and haul myself to sitting. My body hurts and my head pounds, yet I pull the sheet from me.

‘I have to go,’ I say.

She shakes her head. ‘No, you can’t,’ she replies.

A strong hand rests on my arm, and I notice for the first time that there are bandages on my arms and legs and wires coming from me.

‘I have to.’ I rest my feet on the floor, but as I ease myself to standing I turn dizzy and her hands are on mine. Her face swims before me as the bed comes back up to me and again I’m lying down.

‘You’re simply not well enough to go anywhere,’ she says.

‘I have to go back to Hiroshima,’ I say. ‘I have to. You don’t understand. She’ll be waiting for me. I told her to. Told her I’d come back for her.’ My throat hurts as I talk, and even though I’ve barely been awake for five minutes, I am so intolerably tired.

‘Please, help me up. I have to go.’

‘Who’ll be waiting for you?’ she asks.

‘Keiko.’ Her name sounds strange in the quiet of the ward. ‘I couldn’t carry her any further. I went on to get help, but … I left her by herself. Next to a burnt-out tram. I went to get help. I couldn’t carry her any more. I tried …’

‘When was that?’ she asks. ‘The day of the bomb?’

‘The day after.’

Her eyes blink far too much, and she looks away from me towards the door, around the ward and back again.

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