路克對香港的很多事情都感興趣，這兩天問我的問題，涉及香港政黨、傳媒、中國食文化（包括怎樣用碗筷才禮貌）、香港的基督教發展情況等。我只能很片面地憑我所知盡量回應，但我想我喜歡為朋友解答有關香港的問題。
我不太肯定我是否仍然處於「身分不明」的狀態，但三月的一些事（包括日本之旅、路克到訪）似乎為我「徹頭徹尾香港人」的身分提供了有力的支持。
路克似乎真的想認識香港、接觸香港，不是那種只關心這兒有甚麼好吃好喝的人（雖然最後他說，過去一兩天，他吃了很多）。我談的，他感興趣，我也感興趣；我不用擔心說了一大堆，原來他在暗忖：「為甚麼不帶我去血拼？」
如果，如果，我到外國時也有朋友為我「導賞」當地的一切，而我也「認真惡補」各種知識好讓我能為到訪的朋友導賞香港的事物，那麼，我們在旅程中，或許會發現更多，超過懷舊感傷的心靈的容量，為旅人開闊視域。
有一個孤身跑到日本平靜的小鎮、不會駕車、沒有手機、家裡沒有接互聯網的孩子，四時許就下班了。跑步、打掃家居、弄晚餐，忙了一會，然後，靜下來。
就這樣靜下來。
怎麼辦？
突然，有甚麼在身體裡擺動，孩子聽著、聽著，心裡湧起暖暖的一道。
先是一段小旋律，然後是伴奏。孩子連忙拿起五線譜紙，跳上腳踏車，穿過小溫室、小平房、石卷線的平交道，向Bosukoro全速前進。
這一刻，孩子需要鋼琴。Bosukoro的鋼琴。
大野昭先生經營的Bosukoro，不是一所普通的小鎮食店。涌谷町的街坊鄰里，在此聚集，吃、喝、閒聊；星期三，幾位喜愛學習英語的女士，和涌谷中學的助理英語教師練習會話。在Bosukoro，各式人等交匯、交流，留下笑聲。
很緩慢的夏夜，只有Bosukoro電 視轉播的棒球賽在沸騰著。大野先生聽見孩子推門的風鈴聲，說一聲界乎日語和英語之間、低沉有力的「嗨」。客人不多，大野先生讓孩子用他那放在「大廳」的鋼 琴寫曲子。孩子彈著、寫著，把同樣的旋律重複又重複，然後轉化為紙上符號。孩子看著稿紙的鉛筆痕跡越來越多，也越來越興奮。
是好作品，是滿意的作品。
夏夜仍舊慵懶地流轉著。
Bosukoro要關門了。孩子把鋼琴的蓋子翻下來，小心翼翼地把原本在鋼琴的東西放回原位。大野先生店裡的紀念品太多了，好像包括瑞士、加拿大、墨西哥、中國等地的手信；他不得不把其中一些物件放在鋼琴上。
大野先生好像還在哼著歌、握著啤酒杯，讚賞孩子的歌寫得好。
Crossroad，就這樣， 在Bosukoro開始。好像是，就這樣，好像如此。還是，這只不過是那年在那個地方那個店子的一堆難以整理的記憶？
The little kid found himself deep in
He sat there, quietly. Just like that.
No sound.
Then what?
All of a sudden, he found something. Something inside.
It started with a tune. Then the accompaniment. Then it all started beating, synchronizing, warming up. The kid hurriedly fetched music note paper and hopped on his bike. Riding through the little conservatory, the sturdy little houses and across the Ishinomaki train line.
Bosukoro, and the piano, is the destination.
Bosukoro was more a place of exchange, laughter and warmth than your average local eatery. Neighbours of Wakuya town gathered, chatted, ate, drank, sang and practiced English, all in this tiny restaurant/bar/open-to-all clubhouse.
The owner, the sturdy middle-aged Mr Ono, uttered a low but enthusiastic “hi”, which sounded somewhere between Japanese and English, when the kid entered. The baseball game went on as the sleepy summer evening slowly progressed. A quiet evening for Bosukoro indeed.
Mr Ono let the kid use the piano right beside the bar table. The same tune went on and on but Mr Ono was as patient as ever while the kid trudged through note after note, scribbling on the sheet. He grinned as the pencil marks accumulated.
It’s a good tune. Indeed it is.
As Bosukoro is about to close, the kid carefully closed the piano and replaced the souvenirs where they belonged. Mr ?no had so many friends and good-will presents that they have taken up the precious little space left on to of the instrument.
There is was, Mr Ono, humming relaxingly, with a glass full of beer in hand, saying “yeah it’s nice”. The kid guessed he was referring to the song.
It was the beginning of Crossroad. Maybe it was. Or maybe it was just another collection of memories in that place in that town in those days.
*2DK: 2 rooms plus a dining-kitchen.
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23-3-2006
