Chapter 9:

My Crazy Trip to Guam

My Crazy American Father


Tobias 0814 June 1, 2046

My father and I exit the plane and enter the bustle of activity within the airport. All around us, people are walking from place to place, some with pulled bags, some with bags over their shoulders. “Did you memorize that cheat sheet I gave you?” my father asks as we head to baggage claim. “More or less,” I answer. A week prior, he’d given me a laminated card with fundamental military respects and ranks. It wasn’t that much info, so I picked up on it fairly quickly. “Good. These people know me and what you do here reflects upon me, so try not to mess up.”

“HAI,” I say, barely containing my enthusiasm.

“No, no Japanese here. Only English,” he says

“Oh, ok. Sorry” I say as we pick up our bags. While I extended the handle on my roller, my father threw his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Now… where is he- oh there he is, come on.” my father says, pointing with his whole hand at a smaller tan man sitting on a bench reading a magazine. “Ieti!” he calls as we approach him. The man looks up from his magazine before jumping up and smiling. “There you are, ya big lug,” he says, embracing my father with a hug and three back slaps. “So this must be the big man himself,” he says, looking at me.

“Yes. Son, this is Ieti Gachili. Met him during the war.”

“Glad to finally meet ya,” he says, taking my hand and shaking it. “You look just like your father did when I first met him. Darkest caucasian I’d ever seen.”

“What months of tropical sun and no sunscreen does to a guy,” my father says as they both laugh. We head out of the parking lot, and I briefly panic when I see the cars driving on the right side of the road before I remember that that’s how they do it in the U.S. we drive for a while, and I listen to my father and Gachili-san talk. Most of the conversation revolves around my father’s “baby,” as he calls it. They use a few technical terms, and I’m not sure what exactly they mean. Before long, we pull into a Polynesian-inspired beach house. A few vehicles are parked around with jet skies and four-wheelers. My father hops out and heads straight for an orange tarp. He pulls it off in a dramatic fashion revealing some kind of motorcycle. He hops on and stats it, revoking the engine a few times before Gachili-san comes up behind him. “She missed you,” he says

“Only cause you to do such a good job looking after her.” my father replies before shutting off the engine. “Thanks for hooking up the sidecar. Thought I’d have to do that myself.”

“Ahh, you called me on a boring day, so I had nothing better to do,” Gachili-san says, waving his hand. “You should get going. Don’t wanna keep the glass queen waiting.”

“Right,” my father says. “Just your bag in the trailer, son. I’ll only be a moment” He then grabs his duffle and heads into the house, leaving Gachili-san and me outside.

“So… How do you know my father?” I ask, trying to make polite conversation.

“Oh, I met him in Japan. We were stationed in Fukuoka when he was attached to us.”

“So you were in the war together?” I ask

“Yep. It was about halfway through, so it was 2028-2029 or so. Many locals seemed to like him because he picked up on the local customs much better than most of us. We used to call him Doctor Weeb cause he liked all the anime stuff.” he says

“And I still say that was a title I’ll take to my grave,” my father says as he walks out the door in his uniform.

I don’t know why but I’ve never seen him in his camo uniform. I’ve seen him in his dress uniform with all his ribbons but never this one. He looked taller in it, and the yellow clover stood out on the rest of the uniform. He throws his duffle into the trailer and hands me a helmet before putting one on himself. “You still got us for the airport on Sunday, right?” he asks.

“Of course,” Gachili-san responds. “I’ll be up, don’t you worry” my father nods at him before starting the bike and speeding off.

Tobias 0859 June 1, 2046

We drive along the shore for a while, and my father blares music from his rock playlist. As we do, I see people slashing on the beach and feel the sun and wind against my skin. I look, and everything seems like Japan with the lights and the hustle and bustle of Tokyo and different. The street is wider, the street signs are green, and the whole island has a different feeling. Is this what the U.S. is really like? I think before we get off the main road and weave our way down a curvy road before running into a line of cars. As we move closer, I see a man in combat gear scanning ID cards. His uniform is a different pattern than my father’s. The textures are a darker green though he also has the U.S. flag on his right shoulder. When we get to the front, My father unzips a pocket on his left shoulder and pulls out a card and piece of paper. He then flips up his helmet’s visor. The gate guard scans the card and paper before saluting my father. “Enjoy the rest of your day, sir,” he says

“You as well, Sargent,” my father replies before passing through the gate. We drive through the base, and it seems primarily empty. We pass by a few parking lots with rows of vehicles and a few groups of soldiers here and there, but the whole base seems a bit empty. We eventually come to an inconspicuous building, and my father parks the bike. “Alright, now remember to treat everyone with respect. If their rank is made of chevrons and rockers, call them Sargent; if not, call them sir or ma'am. Got it?” he says, taking off his helmet and putting on his cap. “Got it,” I respond. “Good, then let’s go in,” he says, walking towards the front door. For some reason, I almost have to speed walk to keep up with him. We enter the door, and we see a man sitting behind a desk. “Smith,” my father says, “Good to see you.” the man looks up and smiles. “That’s Sargent Smith to you now, sir,” he says

“Oh, they finally promoted you, did they? How come I wasn’t invited?”

“You know you’re only allowed on the island once a month, and you’d already left for April then.”

“Oh well then, I guess I’ll have to congratulate you now then.” my father says.

“Haven’t been here 5 mins, and you’re already throwing punches.” Sargent Smith says as he walks from around the desk. My father clenches his fist and delivers a solid punt to Sargent smith right on his rank. I hear a dull “oof” as his fist connects. My father then grabs his hand and pats his shoulder. “Congratulations,” he says. “Now, is the commander or sergeant major in yet, or am I early?”

“I think the commander is; she wanted me to let her know when you get here. Hang on,” he says as he picks up a phone and dials a number.”Good morning ma’am; just calling to let you know major FivePelts is here...Alright, I’ll send him right in.” He hangs up the phone and looks back at my father. “She’s in her office.”

“Thank you, Sargent,” my father says before walking through the halls. We enter an office and meet commander Glass, a woman with piercing blue eyes, and SMJ Gills, who habitually carried around a coffee cup. “Why’d you bring your son?” SJM asks when my father introduces me.

“The boy’s 15 years old. I thought it was time for him to see American shores.” my father replies

“You’ve never taken him to the states?”

“You know I’ve been an ocean away from home since the war.”

“I would’ve thought you’d of gone to let him see that farm you’re so proud of.”

“It’s an orchard, and he’ll see it soon enough.” My father seems to dismiss him and instead turns to commander Glass. “Anyway, ma'am, I really just came by to make sure everything is set for tomorrow.

“Yes. Everything is set. Your usual classroom, 1000 to 1700. Sargent Rees has a few new medics that he want you to make sure are there as well as you’re usual roster.” She says chipperly. “Thought you could’ve confirmed that with a phone call or text. Why come all the way out here a day early?”

“Well, I wanted you to meet my boy so sergeant major could scare him a bit. Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble while we’re here.”

“If he does, we’ll put him on the target for weapons qual,” SMJ says, glaring at me.

“Put him on Lacker’s lane. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” my father says, laughing.

Tobias 1009 June 1, 2046

We leave shortly after and check into a hotel. “Do you just know everyone on the island? Even the receptionist knew your name,” I ask as we ride up the elevator.

“Well, of course, she knew my name. It’s printed on my uniform,” He says, pointing to his right shoulder.

“That says FivePelt, not GoKegawa .”

“Well, yes, I translated it once I moved to Japan. FivePelts is my birth name.”

“Why’d you change it? Why not keep it ?”

“Conformity.” My father says in a tone fit for the classroom. “I came to Japan as an outsider, and I had a duty as an outsider to conform as much as possible. That took the form of learning their customs, speaking their language, cooking and eating their food, and yes, even changing my name,” he says as we enter our room.

“That seems like a lot. Why did you and mom come to Japan? Neither of you has ever told me that.” My father freezes halfway in the door as I ask him. It takes me tapping his back to snap him out of it. “Dad, are you okay?” I ask.

“Wha- no, I’m… I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting your question, is all.” he says, his voice a bit shaken. “Umm. I’ll tell you later. For now, let me change. We have a small errand to run before we can go out sightseeing. There’s a lot of America for you to experience, and we’ve only got today to do it.” American culture? Hell yeah, I think. I’ve experienced it second hand from my father and his friends that come to visit. Each one has given me an entirely different version of America, and I can hardly wait to experience it for myself.

Tobias 0954 June 2, 2046

I sit in the classroom, barely keeping my eyes open. My father wasn’t kidding when he said we had a lot to see. We went to the beach, several restaurants, did go-karts, played at an arcade, and just about anything else you could imagine. By the time we got back to our room, it was nearly 4 in the morning. I don’t know how he did it, but my father was as bright and chipper as ever. How does he do it? I think. He never drinks coffee, and I saw him turn down an energy drink from one of the soldiers. At 10:00 sharp, a man stands in front of the board and begins the class.

“Good morning, everyone. I am SFC Reese, the senior medic. Today’s class is going to be taught by major FivePelt. I’m sure most of you have heard of him, but for those of you who haven’t. He served in both West Africa and East Asia during the war and was referred for the congressional medal of honor for his outstanding service in west Africa. This man is a wealth of knowledge, and it would be hoo of you to bombard him with questions and get every ounce you can out of him while he’s here. He is a good friend to the unit but not a part of it, so he is generous enough to volunteer his time and money to come here and teach you, so if I catch any of you sleeping during his lecture, you will hate your life. Ho-ah?”

“Ho-ah,” the rest of the class responds. With that, SFC Rees turns the stage over to my father, and he begins his class. He’s much more relaxed than SFC Reese and often goes on tangents about experiences he’s had. He uses the same tone as if he were just giving me a life lesson. On the lunch break, we grab a burger with a few of the more senior-ranked soldiers. I try listening to their conversations, but it’s all in-jokes that I don’t understand. Once lunch is over, we head back and finish the class. The last hour or so is just answering questions and what-if scenarios. After the class is over, we head back and hit the town again.

Tobias 2348 June 3, 2046

I wake up to the bass of trap music punting my eardrums. I rub the sleep from my eyes as I try to retrace my steps. My father and I had gone out on the town again Saturday night, and I had just closed my eyes before he woke me up again to go to a worship service one of his Chaplin friends was holding. We then rushed to teach another class very similar to the day before. Once it was over, we went to a storage locker he had. “What are we getting from here?” I asked

“Stuff for the party,” he replied

“Party?”

“Yeah, there’s always a party when I come by to visit. Glass says it’s good for morale, and we never get out of hand. I bring corn-hole and some drinks that are difficult to get on the island, and we all have a good time,” he says as he opens a storage locker. I’m shocked to the core when I see what it contains. Every inch of the wall is lined with every firearm you could imagine. Tables are piled with magazines and ammo with more boxes under the tables. My father pays it no mind as he reaches down for the corn-hole box. “What are you gawking at?” he asks.

“Why do you have a storage locker filled with guns?” I ask astonished

“Because these guns are illegal in Japan, duh,” he says matter of factly

“But why do you have so many? I knew you liked guns and going hunting and stuff, but this seems obsessive.”

“What? No, this is quite a bit smaller than the arsenals a few of my buddies back in the states have. They’d need about three, maybe four of these lockers to fit them all.”

“Does mom know about this?”

“Of course she knows. You think I’d be able to hide something like this from her?”

“Why are you showing me this?”

“So that you know.”

“Why do I need to know?” I ask

“So that in the unlikely event that I ever completely lose it and become a danger to myself or others, you can direct the police here and warn them of what I have access to. Why do you think I leave the key with Ieti? So I have to call him ahead of time, and he can make sure I’m not gonna do anything stupid. Now come on, we have morale to raise.” he says as he shuts and locker. I was a bit stunned the rest of the night. Everyone was happy to see my father bring the corn-hole, and soon enough, there were tables lined with alcohol and other drinks, music playing, and numerous circles talking. I started playing cards at a table with my father. But after a while, he left to talk with others, leaving me there. I must’ve played for a while before falling asleep. Now that I was awake, I tried calling my father to see where he was. No response; I began to wander around, hoping to find him. Eventually, I manage to find someone saying he went up with a few others to the “common room,” wherever that is. I wonder some more before I hear the faint sound of my father’s voice. I follow it till I see a half-open door with light streaming through it. Inside I see my father and a few others sitting around a table. “Well, I guess the bets over. Nobody could’ve guessed the story.” on of them says

“Yep. I’ve heard a lot of good guesses, but I always knew none of you could guess why I ended up in Japan.” my father says in a tone unfamiliar to me. Is he drunk? It must be he never talks about why he and mom came to Japan, I think as I stand around the corner out of sight. “So you mean nobody in her family knows where you and she went or even that you’re married?” another voice asks.

“Mohamed does. I keep in contact with him because he’s the only one in the family I trust to keep the secret. Hopefully, once he becomes the head of the family, Serana can be on speaking terms with them, but for now, I won’t risk it. God knows what they’d do to her if they found out she left the faith. They’d probably try to kill her, and I can’t let that happen.” my father says. “But sometimes it eats me up inside, you know. I was a stranger, and they helped me get home. I come back and end up taking their daughter away without them even knowing.”

“You did the right thing, Samson. I mean, look at what came of it. Your boy is turning into a fine young man, you’re a pillar in your community, everyone here looks forward to when you come to visit, and you saved quite a few lines when you came back, didn’t you? Just think of what would’ve happened had you not done it?” a third voice says

“I know.” my father says. “I know, but it still doesn’t feel right. I think I should’ve done things bett-” he’s interrupted by the sound of a phone buzzing. “Who’s texting me?” he says. “Ohh, it’s my boy… It is late. I should find him and leave. It’s been a busy couple of days, and it’s about time he gets a goo-” I don’t wait to hear the rest. I dash away out of the building and eventually find him outside. We get a cab back to the hotel, and I enjoy a full night of sleep for the first time in days.

We head back to the base the following day and help clean up before Gachili-san takes us back to the airport. “So, son, how did you enjoy your first trip to the U.S.?” my father asks me on the plane back home.

“It was…. Not what I expected, but still nice.” I say, still thinking about what I overheard. I think about asking him about it but figure I shouldn’t. That seems like the kind of thing he’ll tell me on his own later.