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Description
Mrs. Lee and the Stalker Man

The street was busy and bright, full of people and debris, and the afternoon sun. I glanced over and saw a shadow slip into view from behind a building. It was a small, wizened, but still lively and beautiful, elderly Asian woman. She had a large moldy tomato in her hand, and threw it at the tinted window of a new black sedan that was just pulling away from the curb. The rich, wet, splat of rotten tomato covered the passenger side window. Two men jumped out of the car and looked around to see who threw it. I looked back to her, astonished, and she was gone-- almost like a cartoon. I half expected to see a wisp of smoke.
I was visiting the city while working on a project for a charity. The day after the random tomato incident, I started walking down that same street. I looked in the shadows and the crowds for the little woman. After a few blocks, I decided to head back to my hotel and turned around. Then I saw her. A quick swirl of a grey cloak ducked into a side alley. I followed.
She moved smoothly and rapidly, almost animal like, into the entry way of a run down apartment building. I followed. The woman never looked behind her or seemed to be concerned. I entered and wandered down the hall looking at each door, as I went, trying to determine which one might be hers. Suddenly I felt my body pushed against the wall and three fingers pressed into my abdomen just below my navel. More alarmingly, I felt the edge of a steel blade against my throat.
She was maybe five feet tall and might have weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. Still, she had me immobilized. The woman looked up at me with amused eyes as though she had found a stray dog sitting on her porch in the early morning.
"What do you want with me?" she asked simply.
"Nothing… I mean, I was curious about you after you threw the tomato at that car yesterday," I said.
"So you followed me?"
"Sorry"
"So you are a stalker man," she said as her eyes narrowed.
"No… I…"
"I should kill you here," she said without any hint of sarcasm.
"Please, I was just curious. You were mysterious, and throwing a tomato at random cars isn't something we often do back in Seattle," I said. I left out the "unless we are unruly children or simply crazy" part. She took the knife from my throat and stepped back. I stayed totally still. She looked me over and her lips tightened as she nodded.
"Come in for coffee Mr. Curious Stalker man," she said.
I followed her through a door just across the hall. Somehow I knew that I would not live to get out if I made a break for it. Also, she seemed like the type that would rather the super clean blood off the hall floor than she scrub it off her own apartment floor.
Her apartment was a simple studio, clean, sparse, and devoid of any decoration. She asked if I wanted coffee as she poured it from a 1970s percolator.
"So who are you stalker man?"
"Tanner James. I'm a systems analyst." I replied.
She repeated it as one word with a slight Asian accent.
"Tannashemsstalkaman. A systems analyst."
I took a sip of the coffee and noticed the mismatched mugs. Everything was mismatched. I remembered the knife and stroked my throat. I could not help checking my fingertips to see if there was any blood. She noticed and smiled smugly.
"So what do you want to know curious Mr. James?" she asked.
"Who are you and why did you throw the tomato?" I said simply.
"My name is Ah Na Lee, but most just call me Anna. I come from Seoul."
"Where did you learn to use a knife like that? I didn't even see you."
"I grew up an orphan on the streets until my husband found me at 13, and we were married until he died ten years ago. You learn a lot surviving on the streets."
"And the tomato? A special Seoul street kid custom?" I asked.
She told me that, no, she just wanted to let them know she could get to them. I asked her who they were and she said they were "lowlife" pimps and pushers that were harming the neighborhood. She told me they had corrupted her daughter, and she was lost to her now. We talked for almost an hour and then I left. I knew more, but did not really understand more.
I went back a month later for another project. I went to see the woman. When I arrived, there was a "for sale" sign on the building and no one answered her door.
"Are you looking for Jenna?" a large Hispanic woman asked me.
"Jenna? I don't know who that is," I replied.
"The girl that lived in that apartment," she said pointing to Ah Na's apartment.
"I'm confused," I said.
"Well she isn't there," the woman went on. "She passed away a couple months ago. Overdose. Sad really, such a pretty Korean girl. But she was on drugs and turning tricks for the pimp that owned this place."
"Owned? I saw that it was for sale," I remarked.
"Yeah, the owner and his two cronies got their throats slit a few weeks ago, so the place is up for sale. Don't know who would buy it though," she said.
"Sorry you missed Jenna. Her mom, Mrs. Lee, came over from Korea to collect her belongings. Nice woman," she said to me as I left.

Description
Mrs. Lee and the Stalker Man

The street was busy and bright, full of people and debris, and the afternoon sun. I glanced over and saw a shadow slip into view from behind a building. It was a small, wizened, but still lively and beautiful, elderly Asian woman. She had a large moldy tomato in her hand, and threw it at the tinted window of a new black sedan that was just pulling away from the curb. The rich, wet, splat of rotten tomato covered the passenger side window. Two men jumped out of the car and looked around to see who threw it. I looked back to her, astonished, and she was gone-- almost like a cartoon. I half expected to see a wisp of smoke.
I was visiting the city while working on a project for a charity. The day after the random tomato incident, I started walking down that same street. I looked in the shadows and the crowds for the little woman. After a few blocks, I decided to head back to my hotel and turned around. Then I saw her. A quick swirl of a grey cloak ducked into a side alley. I followed.
She moved smoothly and rapidly, almost animal like, into the entry way of a run down apartment building. I followed. The woman never looked behind her or seemed to be concerned. I entered and wandered down the hall looking at each door, as I went, trying to determine which one might be hers. Suddenly I felt my body pushed against the wall and three fingers pressed into my abdomen just below my navel. More alarmingly, I felt the edge of a steel blade against my throat.
She was maybe five feet tall and might have weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. Still, she had me immobilized. The woman looked up at me with amused eyes as though she had found a stray dog sitting on her porch in the early morning.
"What do you want with me?" she asked simply.
"Nothing… I mean, I was curious about you after you threw the tomato at that car yesterday," I said.
"So you followed me?"
"Sorry"
"So you are a stalker man," she said as her eyes narrowed.
"No… I…"
"I should kill you here," she said without any hint of sarcasm.
"Please, I was just curious. You were mysterious, and throwing a tomato at random cars isn't something we often do back in Seattle," I said. I left out the "unless we are unruly children or simply crazy" part. She took the knife from my throat and stepped back. I stayed totally still. She looked me over and her lips tightened as she nodded.
"Come in for coffee Mr. Curious Stalker man," she said.
I followed her through a door just across the hall. Somehow I knew that I would not live to get out if I made a break for it. Also, she seemed like the type that would rather the super clean blood off the hall floor than she scrub it off her own apartment floor.
Her apartment was a simple studio, clean, sparse, and devoid of any decoration. She asked if I wanted coffee as she poured it from a 1970s percolator.
"So who are you stalker man?"
"Tanner James. I'm a systems analyst." I replied.
She repeated it as one word with a slight Asian accent.
"Tannashemsstalkaman. A systems analyst."
I took a sip of the coffee and noticed the mismatched mugs. Everything was mismatched. I remembered the knife and stroked my throat. I could not help checking my fingertips to see if there was any blood. She noticed and smiled smugly.
"So what do you want to know curious Mr. James?" she asked.
"Who are you and why did you throw the tomato?" I said simply.
"My name is Ah Na Lee, but most just call me Anna. I come from Seoul."
"Where did you learn to use a knife like that? I didn't even see you."
"I grew up an orphan on the streets until my husband found me at 13, and we were married until he died ten years ago. You learn a lot surviving on the streets."
"And the tomato? A special Seoul street kid custom?" I asked.
She told me that, no, she just wanted to let them know she could get to them. I asked her who they were and she said they were "lowlife" pimps and pushers that were harming the neighborhood. She told me they had corrupted her daughter, and she was lost to her now. We talked for almost an hour and then I left. I knew more, but did not really understand more.
I went back a month later for another project. I went to see the woman. When I arrived, there was a "for sale" sign on the building and no one answered her door.
"Are you looking for Jenna?" a large Hispanic woman asked me.
"Jenna? I don't know who that is," I replied.
"The girl that lived in that apartment," she said pointing to Ah Na's apartment.
"I'm confused," I said.
"Well she isn't there," the woman went on. "She passed away a couple months ago. Overdose. Sad really, such a pretty Korean girl. But she was on drugs and turning tricks for the pimp that owned this place."
"Owned? I saw that it was for sale," I remarked.
"Yeah, the owner and his two cronies got their throats slit a few weeks ago, so the place is up for sale. Don't know who would buy it though," she said.
"Sorry you missed Jenna. Her mom, Mrs. Lee, came over from Korea to collect her belongings. Nice woman," she said to me as I left.