Not Now, Jimmy!

Evelyn Singleton was slightly winded after climbing up the 120 steps to platform 1 of the Ishikawacho Japan Railway Station in Yokohama. She prided herself for her physical endurance. Before her husband Seth agreed to accept the position of professor of Linguistics at  the prominent women's university in Yokohama, she took part in the Full Marathon Race in San Francisco. But she was winded this morning. Jimmy their four-year-old son chose to be contrary. She was forced to carry Jimmy and his teddy bear up the steps if she wanted to catch the train on time. Fortunately, after setting Jimmy and his teddy bear down on the platform, she found empty seats. “Sit here, Jimmy. Play with Teddy.”


“When’s the train coming, Mommy?”


“Soon, Jimmy. And soon you’ll be playing with your friend Gary.”

She took out her iPhone to check for messages she might have missed on the way to the station. Nine emails and 12 chats. She opened the first of the emails, the one from the credit card company informing her of a suspected charge. “$2,300 for a computer.” No, no. I’d better take care of this right away. With lightning speed she pecked out a message to the credit card company with her thumbs.


“Mommy?”

“Not now, Jimmy.” 


She decided the other emails were not worth her immediate attention. The chats from her friends back home took priority. She opened the one from Doris Franklin. “Check out my latest blog.” Doris put up a new series of her artistic photographs.   


“Mommy!”

“Not now, Jimmy.” 


She thumbed through Doris’s photographs and tapped out brief comments for each one. 

The next chat was from Lilly Carpenter. “I’m expecting again. I don’t know what to do.” Evelyn pecked out a terse message. “I’ll call you tonight.”


“Mommy!”

“Not now, Jimmy.”


The next chat message from her younger brother caught her attention. “Sis, take a look at my latest animation.” Evelyn opened the website address. The animation took life on her 6-inch iPhone screen.


“Mommy!”

“Not now, Jimmy.”


The animation ended just as the loudspeaker announced the arrival of the train. At that moment, she realized Jimmy was not sitting next to her. He was standing at the edge of the platform. 


“Mommy, Teddy fell down on the tracks.” He leaned over the platform and saw Teddy lying on one of the rails. 


The train arrived on schedule.

“JIMMYYYYYYYYYY!”




Location: Ishikawacho, Naka Ward, Yokohama, Kanagawa 231-0868, Japan

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Advice from a Friend

Image
  The sky was overcast and a cold breeze blew across the coffee shop’s patio. Derek was waiting for me outside the shop, reading a news magazine and unfazed by the cold.   “How’s the story going?” He looked over the magazine at me.    He was one of two people I could discuss my writing with. The other person was my second ex-wife, but she stopped talking to me after she got married again.   That day he seemed more interested in the news. Or maybe he was tired of listening to me complain about the story I was writing.   “Not going at all,” I said.   “Oh, what’s wrong?” He turned a page.   “My characters. Every time I get one scene done in which a character interacts with another, I run into a brick wall. How to move onto the next scene.”   “Oh, too bad. Did you know war has broken out in Sudan?”   “Uh, no. But as I was saying, Lydia . . . “   “Lydia? Who’s she?” He  sipped coffee from his mug.   “I told you before. The wife of Claude, the main character. Don’t you remember?”   He merel
Read more

The Sashimi Knife

Image
I The sashimi knife was of the Yanagiba type and dangerously sharp. Lydia bought the knife as part of her collection of kitchen knives. An adventurous cook, she ventured into Japanese cuisine almost as soon as we moved into our two-story house in Yokohama.   She learned from a sushi chef the correct way of slicing the fish in one smooth pull of the knife from its base to the tip. In time she was able to cut the maguro blocks we bought fresh from the fish market into thin slices effortlessly one slice after another. Lydia loved to cook and invited friends over for meals. Inevitably, after eating, the friends would praise Lydia culinary talents. “Claude, you’re so lucky to be married to Lydia. A superb cook. A gracious hostess. Charming. And, you lucky devil, attractive. Why, she could model for a fashion magazine.” I uttered the appropriate replies husbands give when hearing how wonderful their wives were. “Yeah, I guess I am lucky at that.” Of course, only I knew about her little idios
Read more

Echoes in a Dilapidated House

Image
  There is something about a dilapidated old house that fascinates me. I hear lingering memories echoing inside the rooms. The newly married couple discussing drape colors to match the living room’s decor. The baby in a crib crying for a mother’s breast. The husband uncorking a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to serve to dinner guests. The mother working away on a report whose deadline fast approaches while her toddler daughter attempts to climb up a bookcase. The little five-year old boy staring in bewilderment when his mother introduces his ‘new daddy’. The sorrow at the dinner table when everyone remembers the good times with Grand Dad who died in his sleep. The weepiness of parents as they watch their children leave the home to start careers and marriages of their own. The joy expressed by parents when their daughter has given birth to their first grandchild. Finally, life comes to an end inside the house. The engines of heavy equipment swallow up the lingering remains of the echoes a
Read more