IN ONE MOMENT by Tobin Cheung [Page 1]
A velvet rainbow colour hat bounces past me. It’s decorated with fins, big googly eyes and a little bell on the tip that rings in unison with the strides of its owner. It’s another Saturday night and the sidewalks are lined with street performers busking their way to fulfilling unrealized dreams.
Opposite the lamp post, protruding out for all to see; is the hairy belly of a married man. Flung across his back is a fifty pound knapsack that has been slowly tearing into his shoulder since his arrival. Even from this distance the beads of sweat rolling off his balding head is clearly visible. He has had a full day and is taking a few precious minutes for himself while his wife and kids use the restrooms.
A girl dressed as a woman struts by, donning a cocktail dress, a string of pearls and large looping earrings. She is, I assume, in the arms of her grandfather. Sometimes I find life simpler if I invent a lie to believe rather than questioning the obvious.
It has been a sweltering day. Between the jumble of people and the smog hanging over the city, I am ready for the comfort of my tiny condo. My girlfriend, however, is lost. Or perhaps, I am lost. In either case, we haven’t seen one another for the past hour or so. I’ve tried searching for her but it’s that time of day, the exchange of social classes, when families pack up their kids to return home and lovers venture out for the evening. Steady streams of overweight, department store attired baby boomers clash with fitness-crazed, designer-styled, yuppies as they all try and make there way through the Harbourfront district.
It is the Du Maurier Jazz Festival, or what was formally known as the Du Maurier Jazz Festival, before cigarette companies were banned from advertising. The new sponsor, a bank, is the only other corporation capable of funding such a large tax deduction.
“Hey Liz…… Liz!” I scream as she strolls past me, not five feet from where I’m sitting, oblivious to my waving hands. “LIZ!!”
It’s no use. Her hair drapes down the sides of her face and her head is pointed straight. She sees nothing, like a horse with blinders on.
Pushing and shoving my way through the mob of people, I manage to catch up to her, “Where were you? I’ve been looking all over.” I almost scream from frustration. Crowds of people within the vicinity slow their pace as if witnessing a car accident on the highway.
Liz looks at me stunned, quite possibly forgetting who I am.
“Geez, you scared me. Don’t grab me like that.”
“I was sitting right there, didn’t you see…..”
“I’ll be back, I’m going to the bathroom,” she says shoving off on her own again.
I follow her into a building, down a hallway, past a glass blowing studio and watch her waddle up a flight of stairs to the bathrooms. I considered taking this opportunity to also use the restroom but decided against it, not wanting to spend another hour looking for her. I would wait till she’s done and inform her of where I would be.
Outside the sound engineers are setting up the stage for the next band.
‘Testing, testing. One, two, three.’
[To be continued...]
No comments:
Post a Comment