was in a permanently open position. A bucket of water poured into the bowl sent the contents into the septic system, but after a few weeks, the septic had overflowed. Now we squatted over buckets that had to be carried and emptied into a large hole dug near the center of the former neighborhood, and the odor hung over the entire camp in a stench that seemed like oil clinging to our skins. Today, though, the breeze brought in the perfume of flowers from the gardens outside the bamboo curtain that separated us from the world.
As we walked, I did not see my mother or Aniek or Nikki. Boys and girls played games with marbles and sticks while the women labored according to their assigned duties. Pietje kept kissing Coacoa’s nose as we passed several blocks of houses. We neared the houses where the camp commander and hissoldiers stayed, and when we rounded the corner of one block, I saw the commander on the street, walking toward us.
“Pietje,” I hissed. I pulled at his shoulder to bring him to a halt. “Commander Shizuka.”
I stood ramrod straight and shouted a single word. “Kiotske!”
I would have been obligated to yell the Japanese word for attention even if it had been the lowest-ranking soldier.
All the children playing nearby immediately jumped to attention. We had all seen what happened when a woman or child forgot to pay sufficient respect or attention to any soldier or officer. If a child failed, the woman received a beating. If the woman failed, she was punished in the same way.
“Pietje,” I whispered, arms straight at my side. “Put Coacoa at your feet. Do you want Moeder to get a beating?”
Pietje set the puppy’s body on the road.
As Commander Shizuka came closer, I continued to follow protocol, as I had been the one to first give warning to everyone in earshot.
“Kere!” I shouted.
This was the signal to bow from the waist down, at a minimum ninety degree angle, arms straight back. It was unthinkable to make eye contact. Only equals could do that, and it had taken many beatings for the strong and independent Dutch women to conform. Already decades had passed since Dutch women could stand for election and vote, but as Dutch men often ruefully chuckled, they had been in control for centuries before that.
Pietje and I held our bow. Shizuka’s black leather boots came into my view, and my stomach clutched with horror and dread when those boots stopped.
I dared not look at the commander. He had full authority over life and death in this camp, and there was no one over him to amend his decisions. As a result, we were intensely aware of his presence when he wandered among us.I could not hold my breath, as bowing took too much effort, but it still felt like I was not breathing.
Shizuka had the habit of men in power throughout history who were small in stature; he did not walk but strutted. He also smelled of cologne, a distinct lavender that I suspected was instead perfume, and grew his hair longer than his soldiers and held it in place with scentless grease. Mrs. Vriend had reported the source of a horizontal scar across his left cheek as a sword duel. The rumors said he had twenty sets of uniforms in his closets and changed three to five times per day, which I believed because of their crisp appearance.
The boots moved closer, now almost beneath our heads. I knew Pietje would say nothing. He was justly terrified of the man and had seen Shizuka slap an elderly woman for not bowing correctly, then slap a mother because her little girl had failed to hold a bow long enough.
One of the boots nudged Coacoa’s still body.
Another nudge, closer to a kick.
Pietje fell to his knees and put his hands out to protect Coacoa. I envisioned soldiers dragging Elsbeth into the street and holding her as Shizuka beat her across the face. But I dared not speak because it would make her punishment worse.
I heard a snort of laughter, then a few Japanese words. Such was the concentration of my fear that I
As we walked, I did not see my mother or Aniek or Nikki. Boys and girls played games with marbles and sticks while the women labored according to their assigned duties. Pietje kept kissing Coacoa’s nose as we passed several blocks of houses. We neared the houses where the camp commander and hissoldiers stayed, and when we rounded the corner of one block, I saw the commander on the street, walking toward us.
“Pietje,” I hissed. I pulled at his shoulder to bring him to a halt. “Commander Shizuka.”
I stood ramrod straight and shouted a single word. “Kiotske!”
I would have been obligated to yell the Japanese word for attention even if it had been the lowest-ranking soldier.
All the children playing nearby immediately jumped to attention. We had all seen what happened when a woman or child forgot to pay sufficient respect or attention to any soldier or officer. If a child failed, the woman received a beating. If the woman failed, she was punished in the same way.
“Pietje,” I whispered, arms straight at my side. “Put Coacoa at your feet. Do you want Moeder to get a beating?”
Pietje set the puppy’s body on the road.
As Commander Shizuka came closer, I continued to follow protocol, as I had been the one to first give warning to everyone in earshot.
“Kere!” I shouted.
This was the signal to bow from the waist down, at a minimum ninety degree angle, arms straight back. It was unthinkable to make eye contact. Only equals could do that, and it had taken many beatings for the strong and independent Dutch women to conform. Already decades had passed since Dutch women could stand for election and vote, but as Dutch men often ruefully chuckled, they had been in control for centuries before that.
Pietje and I held our bow. Shizuka’s black leather boots came into my view, and my stomach clutched with horror and dread when those boots stopped.
I dared not look at the commander. He had full authority over life and death in this camp, and there was no one over him to amend his decisions. As a result, we were intensely aware of his presence when he wandered among us.I could not hold my breath, as bowing took too much effort, but it still felt like I was not breathing.
Shizuka had the habit of men in power throughout history who were small in stature; he did not walk but strutted. He also smelled of cologne, a distinct lavender that I suspected was instead perfume, and grew his hair longer than his soldiers and held it in place with scentless grease. Mrs. Vriend had reported the source of a horizontal scar across his left cheek as a sword duel. The rumors said he had twenty sets of uniforms in his closets and changed three to five times per day, which I believed because of their crisp appearance.
The boots moved closer, now almost beneath our heads. I knew Pietje would say nothing. He was justly terrified of the man and had seen Shizuka slap an elderly woman for not bowing correctly, then slap a mother because her little girl had failed to hold a bow long enough.
One of the boots nudged Coacoa’s still body.
Another nudge, closer to a kick.
Pietje fell to his knees and put his hands out to protect Coacoa. I envisioned soldiers dragging Elsbeth into the street and holding her as Shizuka beat her across the face. But I dared not speak because it would make her punishment worse.
I heard a snort of laughter, then a few Japanese words. Such was the concentration of my fear that I
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