Zunbara Zuihitsu Chapter 9 “The Old Lady in Lexington”

 I don't frequently go to 1st and 3rd Streets. 4th Street is Washington Square; 14th Street is Union Square; 29th Street is where the Bencoil residence lives, and 33rd Street has subway station 6. I take so many steps. Hmmm, I don't like the "district" wording, let's stick with the real "street" wording. 42nd to 48th Streets are courtyards. Pass directly beneath Chrysler, past the soap store, the gift shop, the pharmacy, optical outlets, McDonald's, general goods, deli, lingerie store, Wendy's, another deli, the glitzy Roger Smith Hotel, a drugstore that is similar to that of Kiyoshi Matsumoto, and finally, to Radisson Hotel. Until last year (1999), that place was named Lexington Hotel.

Time flies. The historical Lexington Hotel that You Yamamoto and I stayed in 1984 no longer exists.

There wasn't a Beekman diner on 1st Street. Not even Paparazzi Morning Star on 2nd Street either.

Time flies relentlessly.

There, in front of the west end of the old Lexington Hotel at 48th Street and Lexington Avenue, stood an old lady. Time doesn't fly.

I settled for Lexington in June of 1989. That old lady had been there ever since; throughout summer and winter.

At first, I thought she was a crazy homeless fellow. Sometimes she would stand there alone, other times she would sit on a fire hydrant in an uncertainly small behavior. With her right hand, she mimicked a bird picking on feeds, spun her index finger and would keep on nodding. I couldn't help but be intrigued. What was it? What was going on? Even when I asked the doorman at the Cosmopolitan, he couldn't understand her. He said she was crazy. Walking past her, I muttered, "What's up with that homeless granny?".

However, I stumbled upon an unexpected scenario last year. As the lady in a fur coat handed the old woman a $10 bill, she spoke, "I have money. A lot."

Huuuuuh!?! Aren't you a beggar? Ah, that reminds me, she didn't leave behind a hat, nor a paper cup nor a dog on her feet. "I've got money, you know". Her voice was low and clear, even a sense of dignity. At that moment, I felt a little awe.

[This] year, 2000, and the old lady is still there, in the exact same spot, in the exact same jacket. But then came another unexpected surprise. On the third day after arriving in Lexington, that old woman wore a new jacket for the first time, and it's a viridian colored one! In fact, I'm eating a strawberry jam cake from Super Associated. It's my favorite.

And then she sang something. That melody sounded like 'LEXINGTON'. I finally figured it out!

"Ah, so you have an incredible memory here in this spot."

Had she spent cherished times at a hotel long ago? Did she walk down this avenue with a special someone?? Or did she witnessed a miserable incident on this road??? Perhaps this lass disappeared right here????

"Ah, so you have an unfamiliar obsession here in this spot."

I might have been the lass's sweetheart. Maybe a strong, blue-eyed fair gentleman should have hold her tightly. Or maybe a restless boy would have embraced her. Suddenly, this woman had been waiting for me to realize something here. The further you are apart from your loved ones, they'll be right by your side.

The night before going back to Japan at 11PM New York time on November 7th, I smiled there to the old lady, the mere moment it passed by. "Granny", I whispered softly that she couldn't hear me. "Granny". She looked. She was watching me. That gaze, always detached from everybody else, was definitely watching me.

From behind me, I heard a whispering voice, a low and clear majestic voice, "MASA, do you understand me?"

Original Japanese: http://bellabeaux.co.jp/yamamoto/zunbara/zun009.html