Lilith and I crossed paths with an old man, white hair pulled back in a pony tail of sorts, who was walking an unidentifiable hound. My guess is that he was Hawaiian Chinese. He started to cross the road, stopped, asked if my dog were male or female. I said female and he came back to our side of the street. Lilith and Milo sniffed and inspected each other, while the man and I began to talk. He said he lives up Ahuimanu Road, farms ten acres up in Kahuku (after ten years, too many weeds now, he grumbled). The dog found him. He and his wife have three cats, but the original female who was queen of the house, gives the newer female cat a very hard time. "Oh Barack," he said, looking at my "Obama 2008, Hawai`i" shirt. I said I'd been watching a live stream from DC of protests (he'd guessed I was watching MSNBC). He'd lived in Philly and traveled a lot to DC in the 1955s in the service. Went to college in North Dakota. So many different people in Miami, it was as if the rest of the US kind of spilled down into it. The US is full of so many kinds of people, he said. LIke groups of animals, he said. He asked what I teach at UH, and I said English. His face contorted a bit behind his big glasses. "Oh, local boys and grammar." Language is much more than grammar, I said. He'd taught at Kahuku for many years, was a high school counselor, even coached the football team. That was how he bonded with the boys. He pointed to his forehead, said "St. Louis," because I was wearing my scruffy Cards cap. Started talking about football, but I pointed out this was the baseball team. (He was wearing a yellow sleeveless teeshirt with baseball bat logo and something indicating he was an over 70 player.) "You remember Stan Musial?" Not really, but Gibson, Flood, Brock, I do. "Oh, the generation after--great team!" Lilith barked at a woman who walked by. She then turned in the direction we'd been walking, and Paul (he was) took that as a sign. I went downhill and he up. Some 50 feet later, I hear "Susan!" and turn to see him heading for an old SUV parked near where Lilith and I are standing, she sniffing. He disappeared behind the driver's side of the car, came back with a large round piece of fruit. Asked me if I knew what it was, and I failed the quiz. Said, "it's a pomelo. Like grapefruit, but better. Don't eat it if you take heart medicine." I thanked him, he got in the SUV and Lilith and I continued down the road. We soon turned back, because pomelo.
Tuesday, June 2, 2020
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2 comments:
A kind, thoughtful vignette. I'm swept up by the details (maybe too much?) but love that there are so many ways for these two to connect. Pomelo, that hint he might have grown it, that little gift, the use of your name. Two strangers chatting this way - does my heart good.
So many details stay with me. The first is tone. The workaday, casual connection and the way the speaker unfolds the paper of this narrative. I remember the question. Is the dog male or female, and I say in my head: not just female, but Lilith! I looked up "pomelo" before I read the piece and was looking out for it. I love the way this "new" fruit appeared out of talk and connection.
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