Looking For A Lost Memory

Sukiyaki

"It's about a man who looks up and whistling while he's walking so that his tears won't fall."

__________

4th June

"Well, I'll be damned. If it isn't the runaway of the circus?"

Frankie's voice bellows lightheartedly. He turns around to examine me carefully. I don't know much about him, just like most people here, but I do know he's from a place called Austin, in Texas. He's the type of person one who everyone needs. He's straight with everyone and everything, he couldn't care less if he hurts your feelings, but he's someone you can relate to and understands the world for the nightmare that it really is. I don't think I've ever caught him smiling, yet I've heard he's a happy person, satisfied with everything he's got.

I stand there, unsure of what to say, expecting a full blow of admonitions to begin. Internally, I just wanted to fall asleep. The journey coming back felt seemingly endless than I imagined, I'm grateful I made it back unharmed. At one point, I remember questioning everything I've ever done all at once. Refocusing, I lift my head to his eye level and wait for him to continue.

"What was going through your mind?" He asks, his southern drawl leaking through his words.

His accent is more pronounced and deeper compared to the rest of the people here from America. I would describe his accent and the way he pronounces words as funny, but Noah kindly pointed out it's because of the area Frankie's from.

Where Noah is from, they arrange areas in states, whereas back home its prefectures to represent districts. Another new fact I learned today. I should be prouder that I'm starting to ask about their culture and home.

Frankie gets to his feet slowly waiting for me to answer. I shrug my shoulders pointlessly.

"Why d'ya run away? Hmm?" He demands in an interrogative manner.

"Pardon?"

"Naw don't make me ask twice."

"Pardon?"

"I know you heard me."

I exhale and try to hide my frustration. At times I need him to repeat words because I do not hear them clearly at first. I have reminded him of this in the past but he forgets. But sometimes I think he does it to taunt me. Noah and Emily seem to understand his words immediately even though they are all from different places in America. They don't mind helping me from time to time.

I expect him to press on further but instead, he changes the subject while pacing around the room, fumbling with random objects. I see a guitar sitting idle in the corner with a layer of dust sitting on the body of the instrument. I immediately think of Akira and her love of the violin. I wonder how's she's doing. I need to write to them soon.

"Just look at your mental and physical ability, all wasted because of that heart of yours," He mutters underneath his breath probably thinking that I didn't hear him.

He turns to around and asks the question, "Do you know how it happened?" Referring to my heart. I pause, lathering in the silence not wanting to say anything more.

"No." I finally manage to cough out.

I'm still staring into emptiness until Frankies' voice comes back into focus.

"You know I'm gonna be honest with you. You made a mistake coming back here. Run away once, always a runaway." He states.

Looking back maybe he was right, but maybe I wanted to prove him wrong.

***

5th June - Sukayiki

When I think of Maria I think of her terrible singing voice and dancing. She lied about that too. She had an exhilarating voice that made your heart race and hairs stand on end as if they were electrified. When she danced it made me smile, to know that she was happy. But it was her voice that caught me like an object catching sunlight. She sometimes woke in the middle of the night and started crying. I thought she was having a bad dream, she would just sing to calm herself amongst the tears. I sat up in shock staring at her from across the park. Subconsciously, I'd stand up to join her side. Then I would sing. In my own language. That was the first time I let my voice come through. To sing in front of anyone who I didn't consider my family. 'Sukiyaki'. The melody of the song has been stuck in my head for so long. I remember the song being played at home. I didn't dare open my eyes. But I know she was surprised by the way she shook my arm.

After reassuring her I'd ask:

 "Why did you lie about your voice? You know you could make it worse by forcing a bad voice through your throat."

"I didn't know you could sing!" I shrug the remark off and want her to forget about the moment as soon as it came.

"What's the song about?" She asks suddenly intrigued.

"It's about a man who looks up and whistling while he's walking so that his tears won't fall. He talks about his memories and feelings. But the name of the song was changed to make it sound more Japanese to westerners. The word 'Sukiyaki' literally translates into a Japanese hot pot dish. It's a song I remember from when I was younger."

"Why did you lie about your voice?" I repeat.

"You don't have to see all of me." She states.

"I'm your friend. So if I see your vulnerability it means I see more of you, of what you truly are. I'm not going to turn my back on you, too many people have done that. To me and you."

***

KAIDEN - New York

As I continue reading I notice multiple pages torn out with several dates written in the middle of the book. I trace along the jagged inner spine of the book, attempting to imagine what could've been there in the first place.

The buildings. That's the first thing I noticed, they towered above us. It's the first time in hours I've seen urban areas. Just as we left Florida, the houses gradually disappeared as we headed out, we started to approach the outer lying boroughs of New York. I didn't care if it would take us at least 50 minutes before we'd get close to our stop, or having to sit in traffic. My eyes stayed glued to the window watching intently at the scenes outside in the dark as we started to approach city speed limits. This is the first time I've ever been to New York, my eyes hunger for the sights. My Aunt tells me it's not different from other states, but I never believed her. I'm sure Leon has been a number of times since he has multiple competitions and has travelled to most states. You could compare me to an eager tourist feeding on sights, whereas Leon is calm in character. I've just wanted to leave for so long. This is my chance, I'm glad I've taken it. New York stereotypes ring in my head, I hope some of them are true, some of them false. Leon has woken up. I try to hide the excitement in my eyes but he's already noticed. I'll never hear the end of this. His eyes are absorbed in the illuminated buildings, even though he's used to this.

__________

Crowds rush past in a calmed manner, they all have places to be. Low announcements sound over the megaphones, alerting people information. The listen intently before moving on. Leon seems to know where we're going, he navigates himself as if it's second nature to him. I follow him closely in case I get caught up or lost because I was distracted.

"So this is New York?" I've already realized New York is not the fantasy I've had stored in my memory that TV shows and movies manage to depict perfectly. New York may have this feeling of being free and adventurous, but it has this harsh feel about it. You want to ignore it, but it's always there. The air is heavy and mixed with fumes and clear air, smells of the urban food stalls still linger in the air, although it's evening now. As we walk out we see countless restaurants beginning to open. I still have no idea where we're supposed to be staying. When I ask Leon he's too absorbed in his phone, so he just mumbles. That normally means he's handling the situation.

LEON

Police sirens echo and blare all around us intensifying the headache I already have. Kaiden stupidly suggested we should stay in a hotel, I felt like dropping everything and heading back to Florida. He obviously doesn't realize the prices of even spending one night in New York. It'll take months of planning upfront. This entire journey wasn't planned, and we're both teenage boys living in the 21st century without jobs, still in school.

Uncle Dean. Not exactly immediate family but when New York was said, he came to mind. I remember him being around after Mom and Dad died, sometimes even before, looking after us and giving support. He was a close friend of my Dad and Aunt Cassidy. But after a while she cut him off, and never mentioned his name again. Kaiden's too young to recall , but I remember crying after the loss of my parents, arguments over the phone, Aunt Cassidy telling him to never show his face here ever again, even threats. I never knew why. She probably thought I forgot about him because I was so young. I never did. I always presumed it was a family feud, growing up I was told constantly it was rude and disrespectful to ask or interfere in arguments, so I never asked. As time went on, I'm sure he just became this distant memory of my childhood.

All I know is he used to be close to us and lived on the outskirts of New York. I searched through old address books in the basement and found his number. I didn't think it was right to call him yet. I would sound out of the blue and demanding to me. From what I remembered last, him and my Aunt didn't leave on a good note. So I tested the waters by asking my Aunt at dinner earlier this week when Kaiden wasn't around about him. She physically looked bothered, I'm sure she choked on her drink of decaf tea and froze for a second. She turned around and looked at me unsure of how to answer. She knew I knew the truth so there was no point in hiding it. She's learned this from past experiences.

"How do you know him, who has been talking to you?" She asked nervously.

"No one," I answered firmly, "I remember him that's all."

"He's gone. You should be grateful. Don't ask me about him again."

That's how she left it. I would've argued, after all the lies about our parents death and the truth being constantly buried, I deserved to argue, but that's when I realized he's a piece in their death.

Whatever he did, it's disturbing my Aunt. Hardly anything gets to her.

__________

Kaiden doesn't hide his annoyance when he hears we need to travel out of New York towards his house, in Buffalo. I understand how he feels, I wouldn't want to leave the energy of New York behind either. Being a youth, growing up in a world that is at it's most hectic and havoc, the big things like a popular city and a landmark of the world seem like the best and most attractive thing to the eye. That's the trick of the filter. Although it's no different from other places, most harsh realities are faced there, point-blank in your face. I'm sixteen years old, I'm glad I've realized this early. Kaiden is mildly impressed that I managed to find him, but I can tell he's anxious about meeting old friends of our family that are as good as strangers to us now.

I should've been smarter with the use of our time instead of wondering aimlessly through the city. When we get to the station, the bus service that connects to the outer boroughs of New York have been temporarily terminated until it's past midnight. Although I've slept most of the days, I still feel tired, fatigue taking over. I have to force my eyes open so we don't miss another bus by being unaware. However, Kaiden is wide awake, I'm not surprised, he has been sleeping all day. Noticing my constant yawning, he points out how bloodshot my eyes are. He suggests I sleep as he keeps an eye out. Most days I wouldn't trust him, not this occasion. He looks paranoid but sharp. I begin to fall in deep, well-earned slumber while I catch him up on the words of Hiroshas' memoirs.

He reads, I sleep.