Sunday morning Zoe wakes before sunrise to get ready to run. The first thing that pops into her head is one of her favorite Murakami lines: “On Sundays, I don’t wind my spring.” But today was not any ordinary Sunday. She knows that today will be the day. She rushes through her morning routine–eating her usual bagel pacman style. Barely stopping to make sure her shoes her laced up properly, she locks her front door and dashes across the street to the park. As she nears the stretching area, she looks up and notices that the moon still hangs in the sky. If Murakami is in the park, then they’re looking at the same moon. Now all she has to do is draw him quietly towards her.
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She makes a loop around the park, starting out at race pace then sprinting. The first lap was supposed to be just a warmup, but her scalp is tingly, and she feels like she might levitate. As she rounds the corner of the tennis court, bringing her back to the beginning of the running trail, she sees him. After weeks of going to the park to run and to possibly catch a glimpse of her favorite author, there’s Murakami sitting on a bench, tying his shoes. Squirrels frolic nearby by but scatter as she approaches.
In order to keep from passing right by him, she has to drastcially slow her pace, kicking up dirt cartoon style. Wiping her sweaty bangs off her forehead, she slides up next to him on the bench and asks “Eavesdropping on the squirrels?”
Murakami looks around, wondering if she’s talking to him or possibly herself. After an awkward pause, he says “Um…do you hear the squirrels talking?”
“Not exactly. I just like to makeup conversations I imagine them having.”
Another silence. Then he goes back to lacing up his Pearl Izumi.
“I’m your biggest fan,” she blurts, making no attempt to segue from bizarre icebreaker to professing her adoration. Now she’s sure that she’s coming across as more crazy by the moment, but she doesn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to tell her idol that he is her idol. That she wants to play May to his Mr. Windup Bird.
“Chance encounters are what keep us going,” he says. Then he winks and takes off running.
Zoe sits frozen on the bench wondering, “did that just happen?” Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a squirrel gnawing on a nut, and she’s pretty sure he was snickering at her blunder. Ten years of stalking, and it all ended like that? She had forced the moment to its crisis. The chase is over. The game is over. The awkwardness, thankfully, is over.
Knowing that she’s failed gives her an odd sense of relief. She shrugs it off and suddenly feels ready to run again, so she takes off in the opposite direction.
Golden Ladybug Stories 