The Legacy (5 page)

* * * *

Andy drummed his fingers on his steering wheel as Leigh climbed into his car. She said hello to his grandfather in the back seat, and then turned to Andy.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the nursing home. Mr. Kimura said he wanted to see us all right away.”

“Why? Is something wrong? Is he sick?”

“He didn't say. He just said to get there as soon as possible.”

Grandpa settled back in his seat with a frown. Andy couldn't help the unease in his stomach. The call from Mr. Kimura had been short but firm. Get your grandfather and Leigh and bring them to the nursing home immediately. There was something important Kenjiro needed to hear, and he wanted everyone there.

He pulled up to the home's entrance and turned to Leigh. “Why don't you go inside with Grandpa while I park the car?” She nodded and complied. Andy took the time alone to compose himself. Kimura-san was like family. Hopefully the news wasn't bad.

He walked into Mr. Kimura's room to find everyone there. Mr. Kimura looked healthy and was smiling. Andy's anxiety must have been evident, because Mr. Kimura chuckled.

“I see I have worried you, too, Andy. I apologize for that. I wanted you all here because I wanted you to meet Mrs. Samuelson.” He gestured to an elderly woman seated beside his wheelchair.

All the Tanakas and Leigh murmured their greetings, then turned their curiosity back to Mr. Kimura. He continued his explanation.

“Mrs. Samuelson is also a resident here. Last night I discovered she was a nurse, often giving care to the terminally ill.” He turned his gaze to Kenjiro. “She took care of your father in his final days.”

The woman went to stand in front of Kenjiro and reached out to touch him, but paused and brought her arm back to her side. She bowed her head when she spoke.

“I am so glad to meet you,” she whispered. “I was a young nurse when I took care of your father, and I didn't understand anything about the Japanese culture. So when he talked to me, I didn't realize how significant his words were to him.

“He kept talking about swords. He said he had to give them to his son. I didn't find any swords in his room, so I didn't know what he was talking about. Your mother and younger siblings didn't know anything about swords, either. I thought he was having a flashback to when he was younger. Anyway, he talked a lot about his son. He said his son was a good man, and he had fulfilled all the virtues of the bush—bush—”

“
Bushido
,” Mr. Kimura supplied.

“
Bushido
,” she repeated. “I had no idea what that meant. I just thought he was reliving the past. But he kept talking about all the wonderful things his son had done, and how he had never acknowledged them. I just told him that I was sure his son knew how much he meant to him. But he wouldn't calm down. He said he needed to get the swords from storage and give them to his son.”

Kenjiro's face darkened as he spoke. “I was in the army, stationed in Korea when he died. I tried to get a leave so I could get back as quickly as possible, but this was in the 1950s, and it took a long time for me to get back.

“By the time I got home, he was gone, and the funeral was over. My mother was a wreck and all my energy was devoted to keeping the business going. Tanaka Farms had taken a big hit during the Second World War, when the family was “relocated” to the internment camp in Colorado, and we were still rebuilding, so I never gave the swords a thought. I knew about them, and I'd seen them once or twice, but it never occurred to me there was a story behind them.

“My father was a stern man, and I had trouble pleasing him. That was one of the reasons I enlisted when the Korean War broke out—I wanted to prove I was as patriotic and as courageous as my older brother. But I worked a desk job there. I didn't see combat. I never felt I lived up to his ideal.

“When Andy found the letter, I realized that if my father had wanted me to have the swords, he would have given them to me.”

“Don't you see, Grandpa?” Andy stood, his hands outstretched, begging his grandfather to understand. “You've shown every single one of the
Bushido
virtues in your life. And what Mrs. Samuelson says proves that your father truly believed you were worthy of the legacy. So you have the right to these things. They are yours.”

“He's right, Dad,” agreed James. “Grandpa should have given them to you after Uncle Michio died. But he didn't. He probably couldn't, if the swords were in storage at the house and the family was in the relocation camp in Colorado. Plus, he was probably too much in shock, overcome with grief. He probably forgot about the swords until he knew he was dying, and then he was unable to give them to you.”

“But I still have trouble accepting the virtue about courage. I never did anything courageous. My brother was the warrior—he was strong and had the courage to fight for his country. I was a scrawny kid who went to college. There was nothing courageous about that.”

“My friend, I think you've forgotten the
Bushido
definition of courage.”

All talking ceased, and all heads turned toward Kimura-san as he wheeled his chair closer to Grandpa. The swords lay across his lap.

“Courage can be seen as a virtue only if it is exercised in the cause of righteousness. In other words, courage is simply doing what is right.” He paused until his friend met his eyes.

“When your brother died and your family needed you, you came home from college and took care of them. You gave up your college life to work and help your family survive. And when your father died, you took up the reins of the family business and kept it going. That, my friend, is courage.”

Kenjiro finally allowed his gaze to rest on the swords. “You really think so?”

Mr. Kimura picked up the long sword with both hands and presented it to his friend. “I know so, Tanaka-san,” he replied gently.

Kenjiro sighed. “I guess I've got a wall somewhere these can hang on.”

He turned to his son. “But some day, soon, they will hang in your home.”

James nodded. “Not for a long time, I hope. But someday.”

Andy and Leigh looked at each other with contentment. The legacy had been passed to its rightful owner.

 

Patricia Kiyono is honored
The Legacy
is included in the Japan Relief Novella series. During her first career, she taught elementary music, junior high social studies, elementary classrooms, and junior high social studies. She now teaches part time at Grand Valley State University.

She lives in southwest Michigan with her husband, not far from her children and grandchildren. Current interests, aside from writing, include sewing, crocheting, scrapbooking, and music. A love of travel and an interest in faraway people inspires her to create stories about different cultures. She has written elementary school plays and educational materials.
The Legacy
is her first work of fiction to be published.

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