Yesterday was mighty Onomichi’s mighty Hanabi Taikai. Lots of fireworks shooting over the ridge of a hill, right on the bay where it was probably all beautiful and shit. It was beautiful from our sideways view and we could share for hours the sphere of lights blowing up in the night sky and even the occasional canon shot boom to go with it. We, in this case doesn’t pronoun my wife and I, but the people in the observation room, day room as they call it, and hours in this case isn’t an exaggeration of happiness. There were two fucking hours of fireworks and I watched all of them. I could’ve gone for one of them, the last part for the golden giant climax, but no, I thought I had to get there early, everyone was talking about it, the hanabi taikai the hanabi taikai, so everyone was going, right? They were going to pack the room and I wasn’t going to get a spot. And if I couldn’t sit down that would be the worst.
Oh diddly, I was an idiot. I think most people did the smart thing, come in for awhile watch, leave. Bang bang bang, pretty, let’s go. I sat there and sat there and sat there. I’m pretty sure I’m the only idiot of the sixth floor who scraped every last visible firework shot into my retina.
So here’s the point A to point my God when is this going to end of it. I get there at 7:00 armed with two pads, still trying to figure out ol Jakes tyrns and find almost every seat taken except the sofa at the front. I take it but the damn thing isn’t facing the window, you have to turn around and see, very twisty and uncomfortable, so I look for a chair, see one suddenly open in the middle of the room. I’d have to make a cane assisted dash for it or… that couple that’s been occupying two chairs three, they don’t seem to be waiting for a third persin, so I ask, they answer and I got me a seat up close. Around 7:15 a couple older gentlemen come in, one of them turns around the sofa so it’s facing the window (ohhh) and I have a couple heads possibly in my way. The guy who turned the sofa around seemed to have actually just met the other, who was 80 years old at least, and they share a pleasant conversation while counting down to the fireworks. And countdown the first guy does (probably in his sixties), at 7:30 going five four three two one and bang the first shot goes up. I mean he got the timing perfect.
That was probably the most impressive thing about the whole show. I mean it was beautiful, spectacular, they wheeled in patients to watch and stashed them in front of me, nurses and even my doctor came by, people slipped in for a photograph or two, sometimes they stood for awhile got tired and left… Probably the best was when one of the nurses, a little bigger than the rest, with a pleasant friendly roundness to her face came by to watch the fireworks with me a bit and ask what was hanabi in English. She was expecting fire flower naturally. When works climaxed the word she was thrown for a loop, it was charming really. Why was it works, she wanted to know. I told her I had no idea. I added as I’ve mentioned her before that hanabi was a much better word.
“Fireworks,” she said, for pronunciation. Hers wasn’t bad, I could hear he r without it being over pronounced, a lot of my students, when I had students, could do a lot worse. And did. “Hatsuon dou?”
I told her it was good, like I said. Sounded clear. When the show was over, she walked with me back, seeing I was clearly unsteady, on the way telling a male nurse that in English hanabi was fireworks. He understood works in English meant working, a job, not explaining the mystery of the word, but okay he’s got some English on him. When I got back to the darkness of my room (past 9:00, lights out) or the threshold of it, she waited while I pissed, again to make sure I didn’t fall, and stayed to I made it safely to bed. The night lamp was already on. I bet she was the one that did it. She must be another Angel. The Fireworks Angel.
No comments:
Post a Comment