King Rat

“The Colonel was about to go, but he changed his mind and beckoned me to follow. We went into Angus’s bedroom. He was soft asleep. The Colonel smiled happily, caressed Angus gently. Then he turned to me and gently, oh so gently, patted my cheek. When the tears spilled, he took out his handkerchief and wiped them away, and talked softly to me in Japanese and led me to the bedroom and made me lie on the bed. And he wiped away my tears as tenderly as any lover. ‘No cry,’ he said gently. ‘No cry.’ Then he pointed to himself and said haltingly, ‘No cry, Mema. Hurt Imata.’

“When he came back from Palembang it was very difficult for me. It was time to pay and I didn’t want to pay. We were alone in the house, except for the amah and Angus. He had brought a present for Angus, and a negligee for me. In my few halting words of Japanese I thanked him. Then at length we were in the bedroom. Lying on the bed. He took me, and once it had begun, it was easy to pretend and I could forget the whore that I had become. I felt nothing except disgust and hatred, but I hid it from him and he seemed happy enough. That began the pattern of life. I pretended to enjoy him. Certainly I went out of my way to try to make him happy, to see that he got the foods he wanted, the peace he wanted. I was a good pupil and Saito was pleased and the Colonel was pleased that I learned quickly. When I could speak directly to him, the Colonel told me of his hatred of war, but that it was a necessary evil, temporary but necessary. He hated radios and would not allow one in the house. So our life became a pattern and the world. And he wanted me very much, and the more he loved the more he wanted. And afterwards, when he was asleep, I used to lie awake—thanking God that he was asleep for another night—and pray to be dead. Oh, yes, I prayed for death. But at the same time I prayed for life, for this war could not last forever, and if I did die, what would happen to Angus?

“Angus loved the Colonel. I used to hate myself when I watched the Colonel playing on the floor with my son—no man could have been more a father—hating the fact that I hated to see my son so happy with the man who whored his mother.

“The Colonel adored Angus, that was the hardest thing of all to bear. Oh, I could lie under this man, pretending that I enjoyed him—I was surprised how easy it was to pretend to be ecstatic—pretending to be amused, pretending to be gay when he returned at night, but when he and Angus were playing, father and son, then I found the hurt was so huge that I could not pretend that I liked him.

“Every new tooth, every little child hurt, every little halting word was a joy to the Colonel. And soon, as the months fled into a year, I did not hate the Japanese words, and soon Japanese became to me my mother tongue.

“The war was going bad for us, the white Imperialists. At first I felt the weight of the war, and the suffering of the Allies, for the Colonel and Saito told me what was going on in the world. Saito was so happy at the Japanese conquests, and proud of the fighting ability of the Imperial Army, but the Colonel was sad and very grave. I thought, my God, the war will never end, never. This life must go on forever, and, when I was alone and Angus was asleep I used to cry and cry, until there was no cry left within my soul. Those were sad days. Then after a while, I did not want to hear the bad news. Gradually, I forgot the war, and tried to let the house and my son be my life. A defense, surely, but the only one I could think of. Africa gone, the Far East gone, the Near East gone, France gone, and England devastated—all gone to the enemy. But in my madness—I think life is insanity sometimes, don’t you?—I seemed to think or realize that these were not losses, but victories. And that I was the real enemy, and they, the Japanese, the truth seekers. Every victory led closer to the finish of war, all war, and I prayed fervently for the end of war. So it was with me and my son and the Colonel. I crawled into the safety of ‘home’ and let the world pass me by. It was enough for me. Enough.

“Then one day, after the Colonel had been playing with Angus, I found I liked him. He had saved me from the camps. Oh yes, I knew about the camps. And the deaths. So suddenly I came to like my Colonel. That night, we made love. And suddenly, I was pretending no longer. I let my body enjoy him as he enjoyed me. I kissed him, wanting to kiss him. Is that wrong? To love the man upon whom you lean? The man who was the father to your other child? Oh yes, that night I truly loved my Colonel.