Firefly Light

Chapter 12

'No Japs Wanted' the sign at the factory gate read. Another one down the street at a bar said, 'No Japs Allowed'. He could not help feeling more of the same rising anger that they had all had to deal with since returning from the war, but he didn't allow it to show on his face. As he stood there staring at the sign, his U.S. Army duffel bag over his shoulder, he was almost knocked down by a pair of burly, rough looking white factory workers walking past. "Oh, sorry, didn't see you standing there Nip......or are you a Chink......I can't tell the difference. Can you Ralph?" "Naw," responded Ralph, "They're all pretty much the same thing, aren't they? All Gooks to me." They both laughed. "Nothing to say, Gook?" asked the first one, with a clear threat in his manner, his hands clenched. He spat on the ground in front of him, but George Otani just stared back at them, not revealing the fury churning within. "Yea, that's what I thought." He turned back to Ralph, "They're all cowards. I told you he wouldn't be any fun." "Yup," said Ralph, "You were right, Vinny, all Gooks are cowards, he ain't gonna say nuttin. Let's go, I'm hungry." Vinny grunted, "Can you read English, or just your chicken scratch? The sign says go away. Keep on walking, Nip. Your kind ain't welcome around here. Go back to Nip Land and your slant eyed girlfriend. Next time, we won't accept your surrender and we'll turn your island into dust." After George still wouldn't rise to the bait, they turned and started to walk towards the bar, laughing.

He watched them go, continuing to carefully control his wrath. Even the Germans had treated them with more respect, although it was only the respect born of fear. George had just been discharged from the unit that he had been with for the past two years. The unit he had joined in order to serve his country and to prove that his people were just as loyal as other Americans. The 442nd Regimental Combat Team had fought with distinction in Europe and had ended up being the most decorated unit for its size and length of service in the history of American warfare, but you wouldn't be able to tell that by the way veterans of that unit were treated upon returning to the United States.

They were Nisei, second generation Japanese-Americans. The Nisei were born in this country and were as much Americans as those two bigots who had just harassed him. His poor father, who had been so proud to have become a naturalized citizen of the U.S., had done everything he could think of to become part of his new land. He had named his first son after George Washington and opened up a small import business with his contacts in Japan. It was a travesty that he had died in the internment camp the family had been forced to enter while his son was fighting in Italy. In their absence, their home had been vandalized and business destroyed as had happened to so many of those he knew.

Still, Minoru Otani had educated his first child well. He had taught him that prejudice and ethnic hatred was a worldwide problem, not just something that happened in America. The Japanese had their own issues with xenophobia and their brutal treatment of the Chinese and other Asian nationalities during the war had certainly proven him right. There were others, he had said, good people and they were in all countries, religions and ethnic groups. You just had to find them and prove yourself worthy of being one of them. If anything, Americans tended to be more tolerant than most. He firmly believed that to the end and had even asked to be buried with an American flag in his coffin. A request his mother had honored, despite her own anger, pain and bitterness.

He decided that he also had to honor his father's wishes. George took a deep breath, released it and slowly let the anger subside. He would use it as fuel, motivation to succeed.....to be the best. He would not let them beat him; turn him into an Asian version of themselves, full of venom and hate. In fact, he decided, not only would he prove himself at least as good a businessman as his father, he would try his best to find a way to bridge the gap between the Japanese-Americans and the rest of the country. His community would find a way to prove that they belonged and that they could be as good an American as anyone.