There was once a guy who loved
sitting on the stairs. He loved sitting on the stairs so much that he spent
most of his life on the stairs. His name was Takashi Taro.
Taro read books and did
his homework on the stairs. As a student at a university with many buildings,
Taro found delight at the fact that there were as many stairs as there were
buildings on the campus. When Taro was deciding which university he would apply
to after his high school exam, the first criteria which entered his mind was
the existence of stairs and their
abundance.
Taro couldn’t help but feel aroused at the sight of stairs ,and he felt
compelled to sit on it and get to know that set of stairs. Once when going to
Athens with a group of friends, they
almost missed the flight, because Taro insisted on sitting on every flight of
stairs available at the airport.
It’s not like Taro loved
every form of stairs there is. For example , Taro hated escalators with his guts , and swore to himself to never even stand on one. To Takashi
Taro, the escalator is not a real staircase, but a traitor to the family of
stairs because it is always moving, while his definition of stairs is one which
stays put and silent. To Taro the stairs is a place of peace and
self-contemplation. Taro thought it preposterous that a staircase would take
upon itself to move people up and down between the floors, while it was
originally made only as a static and silent way with which human beings traverse. The best kind of
stairs in Taro’s mind is the spiral staircase, perhaps because that kind of
stairs is hard to find, or perhaps because of its unique shape. When Taro finds
a spiral staircase he would make sure to
spend time sitting on every one of its stair. Perhaps sitting on each stair
gives a different view of the world from the spiral staircase,but only Taro
knows the reason why.
Taro loved sitting on the stairs
so much that he wrote a letter to the student union to ask that his classes be
conducted at the huge set of stairs at the entrance of the monumental Portland
building. His class of almost 200 students would sit on the stairs like a choir ensemble, while their lecturer
would stand at the bottom and preach. He wrote that students should be allowed
to enjoy the sight of the yellow trees of autumn infront of the Portland
building, and to watch the grey geese
and the majestic swans spooning for food while learning. He added that watching
yellow dead leaves fall to the ground would remind the students that life is short
and death is always coming, so they
should study properly.
Fortunately his suggestion was rubbished by the
administration, because autumn at the campus is cold as hell, and nobody would
ever want to study outside. When Taro asked the Dean himself to let them have
their class on the stairs inside the
building instead, the Dean told him to
get lost and to never bother coming to his office again.
Taro tried to explain to the
Dean the benefits of sitting on the stairs and its pleasures, but the old guy
got mad and told him to go and screw himself.
First of all Takashi Taro
did not understand why other people
could not understand the pleasures of sitting on the stairs. Taro finds himself
unable to concentrate on his work if he’s not on the stairs. When he wished to call his family at home or his
long-distance girlfriend, Taro would first sit on the stairs and make sure that
his feet were firm and comfortable on the stairs.
Unlike chairs and sofas,
not many would sit on the stairs, and nobody would ever take his place as the
stairs-sitter. But of course sitting on the stairs gave Taro a lot of problems.
Sitting on the stairway , most of all ,
blocks people’s way, and you are a bound to be yelled or kicked at if the
staircase is narrow. “Why would you sit on the stairs when there’re so many
chairs in the house?” , was a question Taro was sick of hearing everyday. Why
couldn’t people appreciate his beloved stairs?
An addiction with sitting on
the stairs might also exude signs of antisocial tendencies,
even though Taro
had a good composure and was able to
conduct lively conversations with all sorts of people. Taro almost lost his
girlfriend when he went to her parents’ house for the first time. While her
family was sitting at the living room with Whitehall tea and butter cookies on
the table, Taro was sitting at the stairs to the second floor , beside the
daughter’s bedroom. Taro was answering
the parent’s questions about himself and his family by shouting from the
stairs, which was about ten metres from the living room.
Obviously the parents were
freaking out about the apparent fact that their daughter was dating a weird and
socially-impaired kid. Taro had tried to resist himself at first , but the
sight of the stairs covered with velvety red fabric and the railings painted in
golden gloss was too amazing to behold. The red carpeting was decorated with
flowery patterns of yellow thread.Unlike those dirty stairs at the campus and
dusty carpets on the stairs at his friends’ houses, this one was outrageously
clean, and the fabric smelled of lavender and of the evening rain. It was a set of stairs which was one in a
million of stairs, and at that moment Taro decided the third reason to marry
his girlfriend; to be able to sit on that particular staircase.
Taro was lucky that his
girlfriend was understanding, and that she was quick to fix the situation. Taro
is, even with his strange love of stairs, a nice and responsible man, and the
girlfriend was quite happy to ignore his stair-loving tendencies . She said
that Taro had a stomach ache, and that he had a problem to hold in his farts,
which was not really a lie. She said that Taro had a complex about sitting
around people when he has a stomach ache, and that was the reason Taro was
sitting on the stairs like Humpty Dumpty
sitting on a wall. That was how his love of stairs almost lost him his
girlfriend.
Taro’s habit of sitting on
the stairs almost cost him his friends as well.
When the university sophomores set a welcoming party for their juniors
at one of the frat houses, Taro sat on the stairs instead of playing games and
eating crisps downstairs. Everyone thought that he was just an introverted kid
who had an aversion towards crowds, but
his good nature and his being adept in
holding conversations helped sort things out, although he was conversing with others
from the top of the stairs. He took a cup of juice and a piece of cake, and sat
on the stairs like it’s the most natural thing to do.
Things get weird when
I first went to Taro’s house and found him sitting on the stairs. He made me
some tea and put Jaffa cakes on the table, then nonchalantly went back to sit
on the stairs. “There’s a plug for my phone
at the top of the stairs, that’s why I’m sitting here,” said Taro so
casually, it made me think that sitting on the stairs is the most ordinary
thing to do. His housemates were apparently quite annoyed with the fact that
there’s a guy blocking their way to the toilet, but they got tired of him
telling them about the pleasures of sitting on the stairs that they just let
him be.
When Taro came to my
house a few days later, with a plastic
bag full of seedless grapes, I was anxious because my house doesn’t have any
stairs. He went in and discreetly looked around for his seat of honour, then
let out a small sigh. That day was the
first time I saw Taro sit on a sofa, and he looked so displeased with himself, he
kept fidgeting about , and finally sat down on the floor. I put it in my mind
then to find a house with a beautiful staircase for the next year.
Taro once almost lost his
life because of his peculiar habit. It was during the depth of the winter of
his first year, when Taro went to the city to find a vacuum cleaner for his
stairs at home. That winter was a harsh one, with temperatures going negative
most of the time. The roads were slippery with frozen rainwater, and our houses
set the heaters on full power. That winter night Taro rode a bus to the city’s
old market to look for cheap vacuum cleaners , and he got off at the Old Market
bus stop.
On his way to the electronic
shop Taro saw the steps to the entrance of a particularly ancient building. I
think it used to be a old post office in the 18th century,and now it houses a bookshop. The steps weren’t
decorated with marbles or anything, it was just a simple arrangement of bricks,
covered with moss and blackened with time. “I felt the stairs calling out to
me,” said Taro , a few days after the incident. “They have been there for
hundreds of years, those poor steps, but nobody has bothered to sit on them for
a very long time.
I felt a very strong urge to sit on the steps
and to imagine the stories behind its existence. Stairs are lonely beings , you
know,”said Taro in a-matter-of-fact tone. “Stairs and roads have similar
functions, to connect people from one place to another. Because roads are
usually long , people stop at the roadsides to rest, and others build shops and
houses and restaurants alongside the road, so roads don’t get lonely as much.
Not many people would sit on the stairs
because it blocks people’s way , and thus they function as nothing else but as
a way”
“That’s why I feel enchanted
with stairs, and I must sit on them. You know, stairs do remember every shoes
that stepped on them and their owners, every kind of stinky feet, be it human
beings, cats or dogs. The steps to that old building had existed for so long
that it hold within itself the history of the city itself. I sat on the stairs
and saw a black and white image of a young woman in a Victorian gown with an envelope in her clutches. Her
face was brimming with happiness. Then I saw an old man with a top hat in the
memory of the bricks, who struggled with his cane up the steps , only to slip
and fell on his head, which burst open with blood.”
“There were all sorts of men
and women who had walked upon the stairs, and all kinds of dogs; German
sheperds, daschunds, bulldogs and terriers. It was fascinating.”
Takashi Taro went to the city
and sat on the stairs. He forgot his initial objective of getting a vacuum
cleaner for the stairs at home, and he found himself lost in his conversation
with the ancient steps. He only realized that it was late midnight when it
started snowing. The shops had all
closed, and there were no more buses for the night. Taro was alone, with
the stairs. He tried to call the taxi,
but they refused his call because the heavy snow was making the roads
too dangerous to drive. Taro called me
and other friends , but it was so late that nobody was awake.
It was an old hobo who found him
in the wee hours of the morning, almost frozen to death. Why he wouldn’t just
walk that night to a nearby house for shelter was beyond me. Apparently the old
hobo , experienced with freezing to death while living on the streets, put Taro
on his back and ran all the way to the
city hospital.
That’s the
story of how Takashi Taro, the guy who loved stairs almost lost his life. The
doctors had to cut off two of his fingers and one of his toes because of
frostbite. Silly Taro, stairs aren’t
living beings, and they don’t talk to people.
FIN