Friday, June 27, 2014

The Mystery of San Jose

"Excuse me," she said.  "Do you know the way to San Jose?"

I looked up at her.  Sitting on the park bench, I was surprised that anyone would actually talk to me.  I was dressed in khakis and a blue dress shirt, but my tie was loose, my hair uncombed and twisted by the wind, my beard, which I normally keep shaved close, had grown to early Duck dynasty lengths.  I would not have thought that a woman dressed in a short navy skirt and a a gray blouse, looking very enticing, would choose me to ask such an unusual question.  She had long blond hair, that somehow stayed in place despite the wind. She even had some flowers in her hair. Her face was pretty, with large blues eyes and a button nose.  She looked at me with solemn sincerity, as if I was capable of give profound and exacting directions.

"I'm sorry," I replied.  "I've only been in town for a week.  I'm not real familiar with the area yet."  Washington Square in North Beach was only minutes from my work.  I had taken on a staff accounting position with Ching Yueng CPA on Kerney Street.  He wanted to diversify his client base, and thought my Anglo face would help.  San Francisco, I thought, please make room for me.  I did not want to have to move again.  I felt like I had crawled on my knees enough.

"That's alright," she sadly toned.  "Do you mind if I share the bench with you a moment?"  I nodded quickly.  Who am I to argue if a beautiful woman wanted to sit next to me?

We sat quietly together for a few moments, staring at the children and dogs playing in the park.  There were also a few homeless people in sleeping bags as well.  Then she broke the silence.  "Honeymoon in San Francisco, he said!  What a grand idea, I thought!  We'll even stay at  four star hotel, he said.  Well, I guess the Hilton is four star, especially at the executive level.  Do you know?"

I shrugged my shoulders.  I had no idea.  I felt lucky to have my one room bungalow just off the Tenderloin.

"Well anyway, there we were, thinking we could spend the whole time drunk on champagne and lime."  She put her hands over her face.  "Hah! What a joke!"

I had no idea what had happened to her.  Something must have derailed her honeymoon quickly.  I looked around to see if someone was coming for her.  I had to agree with the idea that everything here was just too big to keep up with.  Here we were surrounded by life, but I didn't think I would ever understand it. Ah, this great magical city of the Gandhavas, this San Francisco.

"We fought in the room, over every little thing.  It was as if we were strangers.  So, both being a little hungry, we went out to get a hot dog, down the Hyde St. Pier, you know that Fisherman's Wharfy thing. The light was slight and it disappeared, and everything just stunk of beer and fish."  Her tale  was getting odder by the second (was it a fake tale? was I being pranked?).

But she continued on.  "I couldn't go back and hear the echoes through that room.  It was like a wedding disco without a bride and groom.  I ran off and walked the ground.  How he made me weep on Sansom Street.  How he made my moody weather come."

A church group came in to the park, singing as angels sing, but wearing jeans of blue.  I think I spotted their preacher on the edge of the park on a Harley Davidson, too.  "All on a warm San Francisco night," she added, but I had to admit, I had lost the train of her story.

"I called my mother and she said, 'Come back from San Francisco!  It can't be all that pretty when all of New York City misses you!' I'm from Brooklyn.  Did I mention that?"

I shook my head no.  I was completely lost, partly by her strange story, but mostly I was lost in her entrancing beauty.  I didn't know if I had stumbled onto a beautiful lost soul who needed comfort from a shattered marriage, or a deranged psychopath off her meds.  I realized if I could kiss her, the answer didn't even really matter to me.

"So she mentioned my Uncle Elster in San Jose.  I could go to him.  I just had to find the way.  But now, I just don't know.  Do you know what I fear will be my first thought if I leave and go to San Jose?"

She grabbed my hand and looked at me earnestly.  My heart melted, and I must admit to shaking just a little.  "What?" I croaked out.

"That despite my misgivings, despite his awful behavior, despite everything, that I will feel like I left my heart in San Francisco.  You know, high up on that hill up there, where those little cable cars climb halfway to the stars."

She stared intently at me.  I was entranced, beyond myself, past all reason.  I bent in to kiss her.  It made no sense, but she was right there, inviting me, not backing away.  An inch away I was, when the loud voice boomed, "Stella!"

Her eyes opened wide and she looked towards the other end of the park, where a large man was swiftly moving toward us.  "Oh, it's him!" she squealed, popping up off the bench.  She turned to me one last time.  "Thanks for listening to me!'

And then she was gone.

If only I had just said I knew the way to San Jose.  I could have figured it out.  I could have taken her there. I could have met Uncle Elster and made  a big impression, and put fresh flowers in her hair, and taken her dancing, and kissed her, and she would know.  She had not left her heart in San Francisco.

She had found it.

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