art by Ron Sanders
The Folds of War
by Marcus Gallagher-Jones
Hasagawa pressed the paper against the table with a delicate precision, creating a clean diagonal fold. The square of paper seemed to morph in front of him as he carefully turned, folded and crimped it between his dexterous fingers. Beside him his grandson, Taro, gazed on with the sincere awe only young children are capable of.
A distant explosion shook the foundations of Hasegawa's small house, rocking the table at which he worked. They were getting more frequent these days and alarmingly, he was becoming accustomed to them.
"Ne ne, Ojee-chan. What are you making?" Taro chimed precociously. "Is it cool? I bet it's cool. Ojee-chan only makes cool things right? Like all those cool weapons in the sky and the armor and the powerful machines. You're the greatest in the world, right Ojee-chan? So it must be amazing." Taro beamed at his grandfather.
Hasegawa winced. Amazing? Maybe he could have been called that. He certainly had some degree of talent. He had been encouraged into the art of origami at a young age, younger even than Taro was now. His father had loved the craft, though he had little skill for it. Instead he had chosen to live vicariously through his son. Throughout elementary and middle school Hasegawa had dazzled his classmates with his creations. Somehow, though, he had felt they could become more than just trinkets.