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Lost in Manhattan – Part 01

The Daily Road

July 10, 1930, Morning Edition, Page 2

Boxing Showdown! Champion VS Challenger, The Big Fight Tonight!

The highly anticipated event is happening tonight. Yes, it’s an outdoor boxing match on the Brooklyn Bridge!

Even those who aren’t boxing enthusiasts might be interested when they hear the name of the national champion William Trayton’s father.

The former mayor of Brooklyn, Mr. Trayton!

For our younger readers who might not know the old stories, let me explain. Twenty-five years ago, Mr. Trayton, a proud descendant of the Pilgrim Fathers, became the mayor of Brooklyn and planned the construction of a gigantic bridge to connect Manhattan Island to the North American continent. Despite being called an absurd idea, it was completed in 1910! This made Brooklyn, connected to Manhattan Island and the North American continent, much more accessible, allowing easy passage without needing to board a boat. It greatly improved convenience for citizens and contributed to a remarkable development in the logistics industry.

Tonight’s match is a rather sophisticated event where the son defends his title on the large and historic bridge his great father built.

However, there’s another reason for young people returning from the Second World War to pay attention tonight.

Rumor has it there’s a peculiar connection between champion William Trayton and challenger Eddie Sawyer from the recent war. Unlike the champion, the challenger supposedly grew up poor in the South. These two are linked to an unsolved murder case during the war. You young folks might have heard of it as an urban legend. The Christmas Truce Murder. It’s not just a rumor but a true story, and supposedly, one of them was a witness, and the other a suspect. The truth is unknown, and neither side commented on the matter.

(For details of the case, see Page 8.)

The Daily Road

July 10, 1930, Morning Edition, Page 15

New York – Today’s Job Listings

– Honest clerk wanted. Preferably punctual / Location: East Village

– Looking for a gutsy stockbroker to survive in the cutthroat financial industry / Location: Wall Street

– Accurate typist needed. Poor communication skills are not an issue / Location: Upper West Side

– Are you excessively neat to the point of being shunned by women? We’re looking for you! Seeking a cleaning staff for an exceptionally tidy master’s mansion. High pay offered / Location: Greenwich Village

– Seeking elementary school teacher who loves playing with children / Location: Brooklyn

– Looking for a hopeful sewer rat. No, an aspiring journalist / Location: Newspaper Row

Chapter 2: Lost in Manhattan

“Hmm… There are job ads in the newspaper, but the requirements are strict. All of them, except for one, aren’t open to first-generation immigrants. And according to the listings, there are no vacancies today either!”

It was a bright morning in Greenwich Village. The weather was perfect, and the street was bathed in light.

Magnificent trees lined the street. Everything was huge—the luxurious brownstone houses, their grand entrance steps, the nearby trees. The air was full of the breath of a new world’s summer.

In front of the Mushanokouji residence was a ten-step concrete staircase leading from the large six-panel front door to the main street. The iron railing was decorated with luxurious squirrel ornaments. Several real squirrels climbed and scurried along the railing.

The front door slowly opened.

“Let’s not lose hope.” Kazuya appeared, stuffing the newspaper into his back pocket. “I’ll keep looking for a job.”

Victorique slipped out through the gap between the door and the wall, like a kitten escaping. Her pink yukata gleamed in the morning sunlight.

Kazuya squinted against the brightness. “Are you coming with me? That’s reassuring.”

“You roadside pebble. I just happen to be going out.”

“Oh, where are you headed?”

Victorique turned her face away. Kazuya crouched down, showing her the job section in the newspaper.

“I’m thinking of going to this company in East Village that’s looking for an honest clerk. This is the only one that doesn’t say it’s unavailable to first-generation immigrants, so maybe they’ll hire me.”

“Are you talking about a job again?”

Kazuya stared intently at Victorique.

Facing the new world, she let out a big yawn. Her light pink yukata sparkled, and her hair, streaked with gold, looked like it was melting. Her light blue obi, tied in a way that resembled a stream flowing by some strange magic, gave a refreshing impression. She held a golden, lizard-shaped pipe in her right hand and a blue portable radio in her left. Combined with her extraordinary beauty, she looked like an exotic creature.

Passersby—women in dresses with parasols and well-postured gentlemen—glanced curiously at Victorique as they walked by.

Victorique crouched down to examine something, and Kazuya followed her gaze.

A squirrel had fallen into a manhole. The dark hole contrasted with the bright surroundings, looking ominous. Kazuya reached in. The squirrel climbed up his finger, onto his arm and shoulder, then scurried down his back and ran away.

Kazuya and Victorique exchanged looks and laughed.

“What a stupid squirrel to fall into a hole,” Victorique said.

The squirrel glanced back and squeaked.

The front door opened, and Ruri peeked out. “Victorique, Kazuya, here’s a map of Manhattan Island,” she said, handing it to them.

Kazuya unfolded it in surprise. It was a handmade Japanese-style map with brush strokes, filled with curious drawings. In the center was an ancient forest, a medieval palace and a terrifying giant serpent at the bottom, along with the Statue of Liberty looking as brave as a Valkyrie wielding her spear.

The young Black cook poked her head out. “I drew those pictures,” she said with a proud smile.

“Pictures?” Ruri peeked over her shoulder. “There really are doodles everywhere. When did you do this?”

“Hehe.”

“Employees should not scribble on their employer’s stuff.”

“Hehe.”

“Thanks, Ruri. Let’s go.”

Victorique yawned again as she trotted after Kazuya.

“I get it now, Victorique. Manhattan is a long island. The green area in the middle is the huge Central Park. This map makes it look like the dense jungles of Africa. Look closely, there are monsters and flying dinosaurs too. We’re right here, a little to the lower-left of the center, in the high-end neighborhood of Greenwich Village. This map shows it full of noble castles. What a weird map,” Kazuya explained as he walked along the sidewalk. “The Hudson River is on the left edge of the island. Further down to the left is Ellis Island. We arrived there yesterday by boat. The immigration office with the blue gate. On the right edge is the East River.”

Birds chirped in the trees above. Victorique’s geta clacked as she walked. Her white-blonde hair and the deep pink Japanese-style ribbon tied at the top of her head glittered in the summer light.

“So, Manhattan Island is this narrow strip of land nestled between two rivers. Ellis Island, off to the southwest, is the gateway to the United States. Crossing from left to right means going from the Hudson River to the East River, getting closer to the vast expanse of North America. That means…” Kazuya lifted his head. “New York is like the first small room you step into after knocking on the door of the New World. Quite a gorgeous little room it is.”

“Hmm.”

“The Brooklyn Bridge over the East River links the small Manhattan Island to the vast North American continent. Ah, the article you were so absorbed in earlier mentioned the former mayor of Brooklyn who built the bridge.”

“Indeed. And his son is the national boxing champion.”

“That’s right. Oh? On this map, the bridge is illustrated as an old man with a long white beard.”

“What a bizarre map.”

“I-I agree. Crossing the Brooklyn Bridge takes you into Brooklyn, a Jewish immigrant neighborhood. For some reason, it’s represented by drawings of pink cakes, yellow pineapples, and oranges.”

“Did you say cakes?” Victorique stretched on tiptoes to peek.

A warm summer breeze swept through. Victorique quickly lost interest, alternating her gaze between the golden pipe in her right hand and the radio in her left.

“So, where are we heading?” she asked.

“Well, we’re leaving Greenwich Village southwest of Manhattan Island and walking to the right,” Kazuya said, pointing ahead. “There’s an area called East Village over there. It’s home to a lot of Eastern European immigrants—Czechs, Ukrainians, Romanians, and Poles. The map shows what looks like a crumbling Dracula castle.”

“Further south at the tip of Manhattan Island,” he continued, “you have Little Italy and Chinatown. Immigrants from all over the world have created their own little towns on this island.” He smiled, glancing at Victorique. “And as you move down the eastern edge near the Brooklyn Bridge, you hit Wall Street with its banks and Newspaper Row with all its newspaper offices. Hmm!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, I’m still confused.”

“You too, huh?”

“Yeah… Oh.”

Kazuya noticed the anxious expression on Victorique’s face and fell silent. Folding the map, he reached out his hand, and they walked hand in hand.

As they strolled along, Kazuya asked, “Is there somewhere you’d like to go? After East Village, we could wander around.”

“The town with the pink cake!” Victorique instantly replied, startling Kazuya.

“Cake? Oh, Brooklyn. All right, we’ll check it out,” he said eagerly. “It’s nice to go on a walk together. According to the newspaper, the bridge has made things easier. They even hold boxing matches on it. I’d love to see the bridge itself. It must be huge! Right, Victorique?”

“Indeed.” Victorique replied in a slightly warmer tone. “You’ve been rather dull this morning, going on about jobs and homes, but now you’ve said something interesting.”

“R-Really? Big bridges connect people, towns, individuals, and societies. They’re great things to have.”

“So, a bridge symbolizes the conscience of civilization, huh? How inane!”

“Oh, come on.”

They continued walking hand in hand.