Flashes by Kimberly Lindbergs (Photo & Text © 2001)
Tokyo 2001: Green rice fields disappear under clouds of gray. The city washes over me like so many buckets of acid rain. Memories of my mother come back to me in flashes. Flash 9. Flash 28. Flash 33.
Tokyo 1976: Sanrio has just arrived on American shores. Every little grrl I know is falling in love with Hello Kitty. I am in Tokyo. First trip overseas. First romance with another country. I will soon catch the disease that will plague me my entire life. Painful wanderlust.
Tokyo 2001: Tears come. I blow my nose. Black snot stains the crumpled tissue in my hand. Hello Kitty silently stares at me through hundreds of shop windows. Blinding me with flashes. Flash 9. Flash 28. Flash 33.
Tokyo 1976: Mother yells, "The train is coming!" But I can't take my eyes off the magazine racks. Manga images pop off the pages of brightly colored comic books. Androgynous characters with huge eyes and small mouths beckon to me. I yell, "Please buy me a comic book!" Money exchanged. Her hand in mine. Comic book now held tightly under my arm. We rush to catch the next train.
Tokyo 2001: A train station deep in the bowels of Tokyo. Ticket misplaced. Incorrect change. People pushing. People shoving. Hurrying nowhere. The magazine racks overstuffed with bright volumes of manga seem to mock me now. I reach for my mother's hand but it isn't there. Only flashes. Flash 9. Flash 28. Flash 33.
Tokyo 1976: Mother whispers, "Quite!" But the walls of the temple hear everything. Prayers are exchanged. Secrets shared. The golden Buddha smiles at us and we smile back. Innocent travelers in a faraway land. Wandering.
Tokyo 2001: Nothing is the same. I look for temples lost among skyscrapers. The noise around me and inside me is deafening. I am here to pay my respects to ghosts but they hide from me in flashes.
For my mother ~ d.1996
