Under the Java Moon by Heather B. Moore

Author:Heather B. Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Mountain Publishing
Published: 2023-08-16T17:34:33+00:00

Chapter Twenty

“I celebrated my seventeenth birthday in April. Bamboo fencing in Cihapit kept us inside, and there was only one gate. In the beginning, I would duck under the perimeter fence with friends to explore the outside world. We would return the same way or use a sewage culvert inside camp. We were usually loaded down with food, bacon being especially high on the wish list. But soon such escapades became very risky. Once, as we returned from a scavenging trip, the Japanese guards were waiting for us at the inlet of the culvert. I was hit on my face with a flashlight and taken to the camp jail with two of my friends.”

—Maria McFadden-Beek, Cihapit Camp

Rita

“Papa!” Ita called out. She probably should be quiet so that the Japanese soldiers wouldn’t get mad, but she couldn’t help it.

Mama grasped her hand and tugged her close. They stood on the edge of the field, waiting for Papa to see them. Several men had looked over at them, and that’s when Ita realized many of them were probably fathers too.

Then Papa lifted his head. He was still bent partway over, but as soon as he saw Ita, he straightened to his full height. Papa looked different, yet the same. His hair was longer than she remembered it, and he wore a beard. But his eyes were the very same—brown like the dark earth he was digging in.

That’s when she noticed he was much thinner than she’d ever seen him. Papa had always been a strong man and could lift anything he wanted to. His broad shoulders were still wide, but his clothing was nothing Ita had ever seen him wear before. Maybe the loose shorts and soiled shirt weren’t his at all.

Ita lifted her hand and waved, and Papa waved back. The smile on his face was brief and gone in a snap after he looked over at one of the Japanese guards. Then Papa set back to work. Digging up rows of dirt.

“Will the soldiers let us talk to him?” Ita asked. One soldier looked like he was half asleep as he sat against a parked truck.

“I don’t know,” Mama said in a quiet voice. But she didn’t tug Ita away, which told her that there might be hope.

As the men worked, Ita continued to watch with her mother. From time to time, Papa would look over. He’d either smile or nod. Then he’d return to his digging. Ita’s stomach grumbled. She was hungry again, and she wondered how long they’d been watching Papa work. Had it been hours or minutes? Could second mealtime be nearing? What would happen if they missed it? When the wind picked up and the clouds rolled in some time later, Ita wondered if the men would have to keep working in the rain.

Soon the soldiers’ shouted orders were carried over the wind, and the men moved toward waiting trucks to take them back to their camp.

Mama’s grip tightened on Ita’s hand as Papa carried his shovel toward the truck, walking slower than the rest of the men.

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