Windows

WINDOWS

WHEN LULU TOAST BECAME PREGNANT--with Molly--she and Joe Pancake agreed that it was probably time to return to the States. Because they had not seen as much of their adopted country as perhaps they might have, they decided that they would like to take one final trip--one last, short vacation to see some place they had not seen before--something that they thought would have a lasting impact upon their lives. They talked and discussed, and finally agreed on Hiroshima. It seemed important--necessary, even--that they visit this one place of Japanese-American history before leaving the country forever.
They prepared for their journey--talked about it, read about it--the history, past and present--studied the maps, talked to other people about it who'd been there--and made their plans.
But then one day, a week before their departure, Columbus Max, two-and-a-half and aging rapidly, expressed, in his curious mixture of Japanese and English, concern about the trip. He said that he didn't want to go to Hiroshima.
"Don't want to go?" Lulu asked in surprise. "Well, why not?"
Columbus had difficulty forming the words, but eventually he said, very slowly and very sadly, "I don't want to die."
Joe overheard the conversation and joined in. "You don't want to die? But," he said, continuing, "why do you think you're going to die?"
Columbus looked down at his hands. Again he had trouble with the individual words, but finally he said--and again, slowly, "The bombs. The people dying." He looked away from his hands, but neither did he look up to his parents: rather out the window. "The war."
Lulu and Joe smiled together. It was Lulu who spoke first: "Columbus dear, you don't need to worry. That war was a long time ago; there's no war anymore."
"That's right," Joe added. "The war's over--it's been over for a long time. Decades. In fact, the two countries are friends now. The city has been built back up. It's safe. There's no danger."
Columbus seemed comforted--somewhat--by Lulu and Joe's response.
But then a few days later--the very day before they were to leave--Columbus, at dinner and turning over a kernel of rice with his chopstick, said suddenly, "I know what they should have done."
Lulu looked at Columbus. "What?"
"I know what they should have done."
"What who should have done?"
"The war; the city," Columbus went on. The rice--several kernels now--seemed to balance on the end of the utensil. "They should have put windows in the airplane."
"Windows in the airplane? What are you talking about?"
Columbus brought the rice up to his mouth and said, "So they could have seen that there were people down below."