The Japanese Flu, excerpt, autobiographical fiction. A family's struggles from a child's point of view. Drama/Humor
2024 Oklahoma Book Awards Finalist, 1999, 1st place winner Surrey Book
This is the only photo I have of me when I was seven. You’ll notice that my mother let my hair go back to its natural color once my father, a soldier,
was sent to Japan to occupy it after the war.
An excerpt from As Brown as I Want, the Indianhead Diaries-
1. The Japanese Flu
Lawton, Oklahoma, Summer of 1952—Note: This is my new diary. I sure hope Freaky Frieda doesn’t find it.
Dad’s supposed to be married to my mom, but he came back from an Army tour of Japan dragging an awful WAC lady with him. WAC stands for Women’s Army Corps. They’re like soldiers, only they’re women. Most of them are nice, I guess, but this one came with her own broom. Now my stomachaches are back like they were before he had left. My Aunt Pauline calls it The Japanese Flu, but no one else in my second grade at school has it.
My Mom’s had it a couple of times, but she always seems to feel better after going to see Mr. Sparks—he’s not a doctor; he’s her lawyer. I heard Aunt Pauline tell Gramma, “No man has ever given me The Japanese Flu. If there’s any grief to be given out, I’ll do the giving.”
That’s not really true. I know for a fact when Boyd—that was her husband—left her, she cried for days. But she’s not the type to let the world know she’s unhappy. She’s tough as one of my gramma’s soup bones. Someday, I want to be just like her.
I don’t remember much about what went on before Dad left for Japan. My cousin Carlos says, the night before Dad shipped out, he jerked my hand out of my hand warmer and made me drop my pet turtle in the snow. ’Course it froze to death. Carlos told me the next thing my dad did was beat my Mom so bad that his mom—my Aunt Pauline—had to take her to the hospital. I don’t know why Dad hit her. I think I was asleep. I get a sick feeling in my belly whenever I think about it.
Mom has never explained it to me. I wish she would because I’m afraid he’s going to beat me the way he used to beat her. I’ve never done anything to make him hit me, but then, neither did she. So every day, I keep waiting for it to happen. It makes me real nervous. Carlos says that’s called waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn’t make much sense to me because shoes are on the floor anyway. Why don’t they call it waiting for the other hat to drop? That would make more sense.
When Dad first went to Japan, I cried because he was gone. I don’t know why I missed him so much. He was a stinker. Mom says Mr. Sparks told her it’s normal for a girl to miss her dad, even if he is mean. The way he talks about it, I didn’t have anyone to compare Dad with, so I couldn’t know how bad he was. That made Mom feel some better. I think even she missed him for awhile, even though he was awful mean to her. I guess that was because he got lonely and started talking real nice to her in letters—until he met up with Frieda. She’s the WAC.
After Dad left, I woke up in my new bed at Aunt Vera’s house. It was like starting a whole new life. He was gone about three years and I’d almost forgotten about him. Then, like tornado season, he came stormin’ back again. I cried when he came back because I’d already gotten used to how much fun it was without him around.
Mom was the same way. She was real happy when he was gone, but when he came back and started bothering us again, everything changed. Mom got nervous and started to shake like she did before he left because he was always banging on our door for something, even though he lived on the other side of town. First he wanted his luggage, next he wanted their joint savings book. Next he wanted to leave Frieda and come back home. Mom couldn’t believe it! I guess she slammed the door in his face that day. I was in school, but I heard Gramma and Aunt Lilia talking about it when I got home. Aunt Lilia is my gramma’s sister-in-law and they’re real close. When they’re not together, they’re talking to each other on the phone. Once, Gramma was on the phone with Aunt Lilia for so long she fell asleep. We all laughed because Aunt Lilia just kept on talking. She didn’t even notice Gramma wasn’t answering her.
Dad would have been real mad about that because he hates it when Gramma and my aunts speak Spanish. He’s always sure they’re talking about him. When he’s around, they usually are! Even so, he wanted to leave Frieda and come home that time, but I think he’s finally given up on that idea. Now he’s settled in with Frieda and he wants me to be settled in with her too. He can’t understand why I don’t move all my stuff over there and pretend Frieda is my real mother. No wonder my stomach hurts.
I told him the reason I couldn’t move over there was because Carlos and I had gone into business together, so I needed to stick close to home. I didn’t want to come right out and say, “I don’t want to live with you because you’ve never been very nice to me and I don’t like your new WAC girlfriend at all.” I’m old enough to know better than that.
It looks like I’m going to have The Japanese Flu from now until September, since Carlos and I are finished with school for the year and Dad says he wants me to spend all summer over at his house with him and Frieda. They live across the tracks on Summit Avenue. Carlos thinks they’re trying to trick me into getting used to living with them a little at a time. He says that’s how grown-ups get kids to do things they don’t want to. A little at a time. Then, before a kid knows it, he’s stuck somewhere he never wanted to be with people he never wanted to be with. They must think they’re pretty smart. Well, it won’t work with me. I’m no dumb chicken. He’s picked the wrong cowgirl to mess with. Yes, siree.
Carlos is ten and just got out of the third grade and I’m eight and going into the third grade next fall. We’re both a little behind because he needed glasses and fell behind in math, and Mom and my doctor said I should start school late because Dad had made me a nervous wreck before he left. Dr. Mac says I have repressed feelings. Mom says that means I’ve pushed all of my feelings way down deep inside. I don’t think that’s true. I think I just feel numb all over. Why can’t they fix that and leave the rest of me alone? Anyway, they both thought I was a mess and needed to rest up for awhile before I took on a new challenge, but I think I’m fine. I don’t feel nothin’!
While Dad was in Japan, I begged Mom not to hold me back in school because I knew the other kids would think I was a moron, but she did anyway. She told me they’d change their minds if I made good grades. Well, I got As and Bs, but they still think I’m dumber than rainwater.
And maybe I am, because when it was really cold last winter, I let Mom and Aunt Pauline talk me into wearing a pair of Aunt Vera’s long red wool socks to school, even though I’m so skinny they were down around my ankles all day and I kept tripping over them. If that’s not ignorant, I don’t know what is. No wonder nobody at school will hardly talk to me. Now I’ll be living those red socks down the rest of my life.
At my teacher’s conference, the teacher told my mom I didn’t fit in with the other kids because I’m backward, so I’m trying to make real sure my desk isn’t crooked, although I’m sure it was never backward. I would have noticed. I tried to tell Mom that because she was real mad, but she wouldn’t listen.
“The teacher is always right.” Mom said when I first started school.
Only now, whenever she says it, she gets real mad. So, I guess it’s true. I’m dumb, backward, and my socks are too big. I see this as all Dad’s fault, except for the socks, of course. He makes me such a nervous wreck I can’t think straight. Who knows what shape I’ll be in for the third grade next fall, after I spend the summer with him and Frieda?
*
Here on Parkview, there are four people living in my Aunt Vera’s house while she’s in Japan with my Uncle Rudolf who’s a colonel in the Army: me and my mom, and Carlos and his mom—my Aunt Pauline. There’s one more sister, my Aunt Norah, who lives in Washington, D.C. She works for the government. All the sisters are tighter than a new pair of shoes. If you pick a fight with one of them, lookout! because all of them will be on your back before you know it.
Maybe that’s why Carlos’ dad was in such a hurry to get out of town and go to Japan after he told Aunt Pauline he was going to divorce her. He’s not back yet. His tour of duty is up sometime near the end of summer. That’s about the same time Aunt Vera and Uncle Rudolf are coming back—if they come back at all. Mom says the Army could send them from Japan straight to another post, if they took a notion.
Most of the men in this family are in the military and are always being sent somewhere. I’ve got a cousin who got sent to Germany. He got a wife while he was there. Three years later, they brought him back and sent him to Alaska, but all he got there was a new dog. A husky. Lately, all the men in our family have been sent to Japan. Dad says we’re occupying it. I guess they’ve got a lot of empty space over there to fill up, now that the war is over.
*
Seems like Mom and Dad are going to go ahead and get the divorce. That’s fine with me. I just hope they don’t make me go live with Dad and that crazy WAC lady. The Army is full of WACs, I guess. Dad found this one in Japan. She acts like she’s The Queen of Sheba, but she’s really only a Mexican from Texas.
“She’s no better than your mom.” my Gramma says.
This wacky WAC is really weird. She’s always taking me to the dime store and having me pick out things “a little girl she knows” would like. Then, when we get back to Summit Avenue, she says, “Surprise! All of this is really for you!”
Why doesn’t she say it’s for me while we’re at the store? If she did, she could save some money because I’d tell her I didn’t want any of it.
Then, after I get all this stuff I never wanted in the first place, I’m supposed to be real grateful and give her lots of hugs and kisses, or else. I tell you, it’s really weird. But I said that already, didn’t I?
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