Short Story : In One Moment [Page 7]

IN ONE MOMENT [Page 7] by Tobin Cheung
 
My waving arm goes unnoticed. She has her blinders on again.

I stand off the main path, curious to see what will proceed, wanting to learn how a man’s man makes his opening moves. I’m rather shy when it comes to picking up women. In fact, Liz was the one who picked me up one autumn night in an underground jazz club. In my zone, oblivious to the dingy surroundings, I was grooving, swaying and jiving to a “lady” down from New Orleans. He was blowing funk so smelly that my body parts were jerking and jolting without consent. He had flair, the kind that told you that jazz was his birth right and not a learned skill.

That autumn night under the red and gold lights, alone and unencumbered, I drowned myself in the music. Perhaps, that is what captured Liz’s attention, my uninhibited dancing, my movement of pure freedom; my lapse from reality. That night, I was feeling euphoric, even dazed. She took me by surprise, when she grabbed my arm and asked my name. I was in a trance. My state of consciousness was engulfed in the music, leaving no one in charge of reality. Needless to say, I don’t remember much.

“Thank-you and welcome to the 25th Annual Jazz festival. Tonight’s lineup will feature the legends of tomorrow. You will hear the influences of the greats:  Duke, Dizzy, and Davis, all playing their part in tonight’s repertoire of performances. And I must say; these are the most precocious kennel of cats I’ve seen gathered in one place. First a few words from our sponsors.”

    A mob of colours begin shuffling towards the main stage. It is a fashion show, the "artsy" and "sexy" have arrived. These types of events always seem to attract the very hip. One of the things I like to admire among the crowd of people is all the designer eyewear everyone is sporting. It is a trend that has been flourishing more and more over the past few years. I must have counted at least twenty pairs go by.

Tiptoeing on the curb, I peer over the jumble of heads towards the direction I last saw Liz. She’s gone. Without thinking, I drop my heels, and step into a blur, instantly causing a bang. My hand goes down and I manage to keep from crashing into the ground. After regaining my orientation, I search around in a daze, trying to determine how I ended up on the tracks of an incoming express train. Several meters away among the marching crowd is the person who literally ran over me.

“Hey, why are you running like an idiot for!!” I scream in his direction. Raising my hand to curse him out, I suddenly take notice of the ponytail looped high through the official jazz festival cap. 

It’s a girl, yep, that’s a girl, didn’t feel like a girl. “Sorry, didn’t see you there, you know, with the crowd of people and all.” I mumble waving at her. She didn’t appear to be damaged at all. Why would she be, traveling at warp speed? I, however, was beginning to feel a pain in my shoulder.

After a moments’ hesitation, she turns and quickly vanishes.

“And we would like to remind you that for the next week, these talented bands will be grooving in one of the many great bars this city has to offer. So, get yourselves a festival schedule and find out where you need to be.”

Straightening out, I fall in with the one way traffic and bump my way to the stage. All the benches beneath the canopy are already taken by sporadically placed individuals.

[To be continued...]