Antuki: A Little Boy's Story

Chapter 5: Rebuilding the World

"...W... X... Y... Z."

Akio was busy teaching himself to read and write English, with the aid of a discarded children's primer and some old records Yoko found in a bombed-out library. The two friends had returned to Japan a few months earlier and set about making a new life for themselves.

The first few weeks had been the most difficult of all. Upon returning to the world of grown-ups, neither Akio nor Yoko had any possessions save the clothes on their backs. However, Sakai's time as a Lost Boy helped them immensely, as he was able to hunt and fish for their daily meals. Being able to fly also gave them unique advantages.

The real challenge came when they encountered other orphans, children of the street who lived day-to-day by rummaging through rubbish and stealing leftover food. Next to these poor souls, Akio realized, the plight which he and Yoko faced was minuscule by comparison. They had to do something about it.

The little boy began by setting himself a challenge: in addition to Yoko and himself, he'd strive to find food and supplies for one other child daily. One soon became two, then four, then ten, then twenty. As the months passed by, Akio became more adept at using his newly acquired mystical powers, as the need for increased efficiency in hunting and killing grew.

Eventually, however, he and Yoko realised that they couldn't stay in Hiroshima. Their new friends had learned to provide for themselves to a certain extent, and there were many more children throughout Japan who needed their help. One spring morning, Akio gathered the community of children which had grown up around him and informed them that he was moving eastward to Okayama. Tearfully, they begged him not to go, but Akio merely gifted them a container of Yoko's fairy dust and told them to use it in times of emergency. After a long goodbye, the orphans of Hiroshima finally agreed to let their saviour and his fairy go.

Flying low over the hills to avoid detection, the pair reached their destination after a few hours. They chose an abandoned building on the edge of town to spend the night and cleaned the place up as best as they could. Once their new room was tidy enough to be liveable, Akio sat down on his rolled-out bamboo mat and reopened his child's primer, which was where we found him at the start of this chapter.

"A is for apple, a, a, a," he recited, returning to the beginning. He'd learnt a smattering of English from the other Lost Boys, but he was only just beginning to become literate in the language. Now that there were American soldiers everywhere, he felt that he ought to be able to communicate with them.

"Have you ever learned another language, Yo-chan?" he asked his fairy companion. Though all her words have been translated for the reader's benefit, she'd only ever spoken to Akio in the fairy tongue.

"Alas, Aki-chan," she said regretfully, "I confess that I haven't. While I'm able to understand your speech, it's impossible for me to reproduce it. It must be splendid to be able to say the same thing in a myriad of different ways."

"Perhaps you should try it sometime," he suggested. "Don't different races of fairies and spirits have their own tongues?"

"That's true, Aki-chan," she replied. "But only certain beings have been gifted by the Creator with the ability to speak more than one language."

"If memory serves me right," said Akio, remembering, "man, too,  originally spoke one language. It was only after people started building a tower to get to Heaven that the Lord confused their speech."

"But what about Pentecost?" answered Yoko, "The Creator's Spirit came upon the twelve holy men, enabling them to speak to the different peoples of the world!"

"What's your point, Yo-chan?" asked Akio quizzically.

"The point is," stressed Yoko, "that speaking many languages neither good nor bad. If you can say something in ten thousand tongues, but can't show kindness to your neighbour, what use is it?"

Akio was stunned. This was the most profound thing his fairy had ever said to him. Fairies, being much smaller than people, have a much smaller vocabulary as well; but at special moments, they can be extraordinarily expressive.

"I think you should have told our leaders this," he said at last. "Then perhaps we could've stayed out of the war."

Yoko blushed. "Don't be silly, Aki-chan," she said, "I only speak what's on my mind."

"Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks," replied Akio, grinning.

She fluttered over to where he was and perched herself on his right shoulder. "You know what, Aki-chan?" she told him. "I think you're right – maybe I should watch you as you learn to read."

"With pleasure, Yo-chan," he replied, as he returned to his exercise.

"B is for berry, b, b, b..."