Letters to Mrs Hernandez

by C S Gibbs

  Yet, she knew better than to give anyone a reason to question her. She was dedicated to her studies and made no effort to bring attention to herself, feeling that it was best to give the illusion of fitting in, even though the more she did this, the less she felt a part of her society.

  Here in Buenos Aires, even though she looked so very different to the locals, she felt that she fitted in a little better. Or, rather, at this moment, she only stood out for her looks, rather than her personality or the actions of her parents. Her striking features did attract the admiring stares of a few red-blooded Latin males as she stood at the Plaza Italia, but she brushed such things aside. For as she stood just outside the entrance to the Jardin Zoologico, her own attention was focussed on the gaze of one young man in particular who approached from the Subte steps that emerged from below ground.

  “Hello!” beamed Ben, “Have you had a good week?”

  “Yes, very busy. How about you?” She wondered if he realised just how many times that she had read his letter over the last five nights.

  “Oh, fine, nothing much to report, just working on the trains,” lied Ben. If only she knew of those sleepless nights and the age that he had taken in front of the bathroom mirror, this morning. He felt a surge of boldness and reached out, taking both her hands.

  “It really is lovely to see you.” Again, their eyes locked and for a moment there were no distractions, but the moment was short.

  “Hello, you two! Have you been here long?”

  Vero and Hector sashayed forwards, looking every bit the city slickers.

  “So, you found your way here to Palermo just fine, I see?” asked Vero, as Setsu dropped her hands from Ben's as if she had been caught stealing. Right on cue, a light smattering of rain began to fall, completing the sense of dampened emotion. Ever the boy scouts, both Hector and Ben had come prepared for this and opened their umbrellas. Hector covered himself and Vero, who sidled up to him and slid her right arm under his left, then smiled at her husband. Sensing that she had been something of a killjoy, she gave an approving and encouraging nod to Setsu to do likewise. Setsu needed no further prompting and the sudden sensation of contact from her gave Ben a charge of excitement. Cosily paired off, the group entered the zoo.

  Inside, small talk was exchanged, nature's wonders were remarked upon and feeding times were observed with fascination, but all the time Setsu and Ben felt that they were the exhibits most under scrutiny by Vero. As they stood before the menagerie, Setsu gazed through the ornate iron cages at the parakeets and thought out loud.

  “Look at those beautiful colours. They are all like little rainbows. I think I know how they feel in there.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Ben.

  “In Japan, I felt like I was a colourful bird who wanted to fly wherever I wanted and sing as loud as I liked, but I was kept in a cage. You are not allowed to stand out – you have to fit in to what they want you to do. I had to agree with everything they told me to think. Yes, I was a caged bird. But coming here, I feel so free.”

  “I felt rather like that in England. I had to be the same as everyone else. I got pushed around for not being the same,” said Ben, as they turned and walked away, still arm in arm, still watched by Vero.

  As they reached the baboon enclosure, it was feeding time and the four of them watched as the keepers threw apples on to the top of the cages and the inmates climbed up and grabbed the fruit through the bars, some of them racing to snatch their food before others could reach it.

  The rain continued to patter gently and Setsu snuggled up to Ben. This was a golden chance and, like the hungry primates, Ben was going to snatch his prize. He turned his umbrella to block Vero's view of the pair of them, then with his free hand, he reached up and gently touched Setsu's chin. He turned her face to his and planted a kiss on her lips.

  That felt good, he thought. Such boldness had not filled him since he found himself on the back row of the local cinema with Mildred Poole, who had fought off his advances with an empty chocolate box – the contents of which she had wolfed down before even the opening feature had finished.

  There was no such resistance from Setsu, but there was an awkward moment, which gave way to reciprocation, as she quickly leaned back and returned the compliment.

  “Let's go and get a coffee, you two!” came the almost predictable, diversionary tactic from Vero the nanny, who again was trying to lead them anywhere but astray.

  “Perhaps we can lose them in the reptile house?” mused Ben as they turned to follow their chaperone.

  “You are clearly a romantic English gentleman, eh?” said Setsu, “Courting a lady among the reptiles. How could I resist? We had better go for that coffee first, though!”

   

  ***

   

  After coffee, Hector mercifully steered Vero away to a safe distance near the zebras, knowing that their mutual love of horses would keep his wife distracted for a few minutes, at least. Away from those watchful eyes, Setsu led Ben to the condor's cage. A tall, bottle-shaped construction, inside which, on a perch high up at the top, sat a lone bird. From his vantage point over the sea of rooftops, he gazed ever eastwards to the Andes.

  “You said that you felt like those parrots,” said Ben, “But I know how that fellow feels.”

  “You certainly could do with a bit more colour, yes.” offered Setsu, cheekily, holding her hand up to his to remind him, again, of his snow-white complexion.

  “No, silly. I mean that he is a long way from his home and his future is not in his own hands any more. Someone else is in control of his life.”

  “But you were free to come here?”

  “Yes, but that is just for six months. After that, I will have no choice in what I do. I shall have to go home. I might be a long way from the war, right now, but I can't escape it. There is a cage waiting for me.

  “I have only been here for a couple of weeks, but I have already seen enough to realise that there is so much more of the world that I want to see.”

  “I feel the same,” said Setsu, “I will have to leave here, shortly after you. I have to go back to Japan. My contract at the school will end and my visa will expire. Anyway, I need to go home and help my mother. She is all on her own and I worry about her.”

  “What will you do for work when you go back?”

  “I hope that I can carry on teaching, but I might have to work in a factory, making weapons. I hope not. Just like you, I only want to support my mother and make sure that she is all right. How about you? Do you want to join the army?”

  Ben thought of his friend, Tom, “I think I'd like to join the air force, if I can. I don't know if I'll get a choice. The papers will arrive in the post and I will have to go.”

  “Yes,” said Setsu, “But do you want to go?”

  “Want to? Not really. Does anyone want to go to war? It's my duty, I suppose. Everyone else is doing their bit for the war. It's my country, my home, and I have to play my part.”

  “My brother cannot wait to 'play his part'. I am so scared for him. He is like all the others – he believes what they have told him at school about what an honour it is to die for the Emperor. When I listen to him coming out with all that rubbish, I sometimes think that he is looking forward to getting killed. Why would you want to go and kill people, then be killed yourself? Why does there have to be a war?”

  It was the first time that Ben had heard anyone talking so vehemently against the idea of war. Back home, everyone was doggedly getting on with the business of the war. It affected everyone and he had never been given any reason to doubt his environment.

  “Like I said, I'm just like that bird in the cage. I have to go back or my life would be ruined. I'd be hunted down and hung for desertion.”

  “You see,” said Setsu, her hackles raising somewhat, “They will find you and kill you if you refuse to go and murder others for them. Don't you think that is insane?”

  “Well . . . it's not murder, is it? They are the
enemy.”

  “Am I your enemy? You kissed me, a while ago!”

  “That was different. I . . . like you a lot. Now that I've got to know you.”

  “Aha! There you are, you see? My father said that if we all talked to one another, then no wars would happen. That's why he was taken away. So, do you still want to go away to war? Why don't you go back and then refuse to fight?”

  Setsu could feel Ben wavering under such a new concept. He was grappling with the notion of not having to play a part in the war and it was sitting uncomfortably with him.

  “I . . . I would be locked up as one of those conscientious objectors. I'd be jailed and branded a coward, then my life would be ruined. They'd make sure that I never get another job after the war. My mum would be an outcast and the shame would be enormous. I couldn't do that to her. So, I don't have a choice, I have to go back and fight.”

  Setsu pursed her usually full lips and wondered for a moment.

  “Can you imagine what would happen if all the people got together and told their leaders that they refused to fight?”

  “That would never happen.”

  “You don't think so? Maybe not now, but in the future, I hope that people get tired of these stupid wars and the people who cause them. I hope that they will stand up and tell those murderers to go away. There are not many of them, really, you know, but there are millions of us. People don't realise how strong they can be, when they all work together.”

  “Now you sound like that Lenin! Up the revolution!” He raised his fist in a mock salute. “It's a nice idea, but I don't think we'll live to see it.”

  “Believe it!” urged Setsu. She looked Ben in the eyes and her tone was one of utter conviction. “I know it sounds silly, but if you believe in something, then you can really make it happen. We can do almost anything if we try.”

  “Alright, alright, I believe you,” said Ben with a disarming tone, “One other thing that I believe, right now . . . is that I believe that I might like an ice cream. Would you like to join me?”

  Setsu's incendiary mood was diffused and as the sun began to peek through the gaps in the cloud, they wandered off in search of the food kiosk.

   

  Constitucion,

  Buenos Aires,

  Argentina

  December 15th, 1942

   

  Dear Mum,

  Hello again from Las Pampas! As ever, I hope that you are well and happy. I can't get used to the fact that it is nearly Christmas and it is red hot, here! When Santa gets here, he will probably pass out in the heat. Mind you, I suppose that is better than him flying over Germany and getting shot to bits.

  You will be pleased to know that all is well – the job is fine, I am eating like a king and, yes, my underwear is still clean.

  The Argentines are a lot more like us than you would think, Mum. They eat the same sort of food as us and their countryside looks just like ours, whilst all of the chaps at work are a perfectly pleasant bunch. It has made me see how little we know of people in other countries, and that we actually have so much in common, if we would only bother to look.

  The Burfords are a rum pair. Mrs B. has made it her mission to put some meat on my bones, whilst Mr B. is a bit on the puritanical side and has informed me in no uncertain terms that I am not to bring home any loose women. Of course, I have done no such thing, but only because I haven't managed to find one, yet.

  Please write and tell me all about what is happening with you and home. It takes ages for us to hear anything about what's happening back in England – if someone has an English newspaper at work, all of us British chaps want to have a read of it. In fact, if you could please send a copy of the local paper, that would be lovely, thanks.

  I shall close for now. Please write soon.

   

  Love,

  Ben

   

   

  Chapter Sixteen - Lingua Franca

  The French call it La Malade Anglais – The English Disease – the inability, or unwillingness (and more commonly, the latter is the cause of the former) to learn and converse in any language other than English.

  Being the landlords of one quarter of the globe's surface had led to a belief among many English folk that the study of French, Spanish, or any other tongue spread by colonialism was surplus to requirements. To roam within the vast borders of The Empire On Which The Sun Never Sets was a sure-fire guarantee that, even when a British subject should have been so unfortunate as to have found himself completely surrounded by Johnny Foreigner, the chances were that at least one of the blighters would have a half-grasp of the King's English. And rightly so, some would say. After all, if God had wanted another language to dominate the planet, surely He would have put Shakespeare in Paris?

  Alas, Ben was no less a product of this malady than any of his countrymen. At first, he had made an effort with some study of Spanish, but on finding himself largely in the company of English speakers, his necessity to study diminished, as did his grasp of the local lingo.

  Consequently, when he was, indeed, the only true Briton in the room, he would exist heroically on little more than hola, si, no, bueno and adios, augmented only by ample use of por favor, perdon and gracias, without which he was sure that his mother would have, once again, died of shame.

  All this was to change, though, on the next visit to the Estancia Fuga. Whilst out on his second major excursion on horseback with the Hernandezes, riding alongside Setsu and enjoying a conversation on everything and nothing, the matter of the group's lingua franca was raised.

  “It occurs to me,” pondered Setsu, “That there are four of us here and we are all speaking in English. Yet for three of us, it is not our own language.”

  “That's true,” said Ben, “But you all speak English so well.”

  “Ah, flattery will get you nearly everywhere, Ben-san, but your good hosts are native Spanish speakers and this is a Spanish speaking country. I am a fluent Spanish speaker, too, so why do we not speak in Spanish when we are together?”

  “Bravo!” called Hector, “The lady has a very good point.”

  “Oh, come on, I can hardly speak the language!” protested Ben.

  “That is only because you have not needed to,” said Vero, “What if you had to speak in Spanish?”

  “Well, that's easy – I don't,” replied Ben, “There are lots of English speakers at work, I live with some English people and you all speak English.”

  There was a momentary pause in the conversation as they rode along the vast billiard table of The Pampas.

  “But what if we only spoke Spanish?” offered Setsu, “Then you would have to make a little more effort. You are in Argentina. It is time that you spoke to us in Spanish. From now on, we will all speak in Spanish.”

  “Agreed,” echoed Vero and Hector in unison.

  Any protest in Anglo-Saxon was waved away, though desperate pleas for clemency in grammatically unsound schoolboy Spanish were graciously applauded and then duly unacknowledged. Even the adoring Setsu proved to be no ally, siding with her hosts.

  Perhaps they had a point, thought Ben. He had five more months in which to improve and if he was going to spend every other weekend at the Estancia, then he had no better incentive than being able to speak with Setsu to motivate his studies.

  They rode on and he asked for vocabulary, finding that his riding partners were very willing teachers. As the sun continued to shine and sing through the trees, he found that the language was not as fearsome as he first thought. In fact, half of it sounded like English, anyway. Besides, he was enjoying being the centre of attention and having three tutors – and he was eager to be teacher's pet to Setsu. The two of them rode on ahead, both aware of Vero's watchful gaze, but they made sure that they were out of earshot.

  “It's alright, you can speak in English, now, Ben.”

  “Oh, thank you! I've had enough Spanish for one day.”

  “Yes, of course, but you do understand that you shoul
d make some effort and improve your Spanish. It would mean a lot to Hector and Vero. They are good to both of us.”

  “Yes. They are so kind. Don't you wonder why?”

  Setsu looked back at her hosts, waved, smiled and turned back to Ben.

  “I've known them a little longer than you and I honestly think that they just like having you and I around them. They enjoy our company as much as we like theirs and we are giving them a sense of family. What's wrong with that?”

  “Aye, I know they say that you can't choose your relatives, but you can make your own family up from the people you like the most.”

  “Yes. And here we are, a long way from home, but we have found a new home and we are like a little family, for now, at least.”

  For now, at least. Those words rang true. This would all be for just a short time, so there was nothing more to do than enjoy every moment of it. Almost telepathically, the two of them turned and waved back at Hector and Vero, who returned the compliment, then they turned back and faced each other and laughed.

   

  ***

   

  Constitucion,

  Buenos Aires,

  Argentina

  December 22nd, 1942

   

  Dear Mr Carutthers,

  A very Merry Christmas to you from Buenos Aires! I still can't get used to the idea that it is almost Christmas Day, here, and I am in shirt sleeves. It is so hot and sunny here – more than it ever gets in Summer back home.

  I have had no problems settling in to the works and it is all plain sailing. Of course, that is all thanks to you having taught me nearly everything I know! I really want to thank you for sending me out here. I am having a real busman's holiday and life is wonderful. I can see why you had such a great time, here. The war feels a very, very long way away, right now.

  Buenos Aires is such a classy looking place, with lots of style. I didn't know that there were places like this outside of the Hollywood films.

  Because of the hot weather, I have barely needed to touch the whiskey. I guess I'll need a snifter when Winter comes, next year, so I'll save it for then. Of course, I shall try to keep a few drams left in the bottle, so that we can share some together, when I come home.

  Until then, keep warm, and Dig for Victory!

   

  Best wishes,

  Ben