Ojiji
The sounds of rustling leaves take me back in time to my childhood at Grandma's house on Kauai. She always took the flowers from the altar outside so I wouldn't wheeze and always left the hall light on even if it disturbed her own sleep because she knew I was afraid of the dark. The slapping sounds of the large leafed trees bordering the beach houses only served to feed my overactive imagination. Ojiji was very skilled in problem solving. He constructed a little night night next to my bed with electrical wires, a switch and a Christmas tree bulb. He'd drive up to Grandma's house promptly at 6:00 am Monday through Friday for breakfast. I 'd awaken each morning to the noisy rattling of pots and pans and the smell of percolating coffee. Grandma would be buzzing around the kitchen with graceful movements while making their usual toast and soft boiled eggs. Ojiji was masterful at opening the top third of an egg with just a couple of precise taps of his coffee spoon. He'd respond to all my requests while hardly saying a word. Every morning I'd hand my egg over to him and watch him "tap-tap" it with the edges of the spoon and carefully place it back in my open hands. I think we only ate soft-boiled eggs at Grandma's because she had the pretty egg holders. She always placed the freshly toasted bread into the toast rack in the middle of the table to cool a bit. I recall the way her pinky finger stuck out as she scraped the little bit of margerine on my toast before dabbing a bit of her homemade guava jelly before handing it to me.
After breakfast Ojiji would drive us very, very, very, slowly to his tailor shop in Kapaa Town in his immensely cavernous car which lacked passenger seats in the back. Kind-hearted and thoughtful Ojiji got the little kid-sized canvas camp stool just for me. I often rocked back and forth trying to tip it over. The loud rumbling engine made my voice vibrate when I sang or shouted out something to Grandma. I remember being amused while looking out the rear window and watching thick trails of dark smoke from Ojiji's tailpipe curl then disappear into the gray misty background. Ojiji was a fine tailor and owner of the Mau Wo Long Tailor Shop in Kappa Town and Grandma was a seamstress there.
Right before lunch Grandma would go to the kitchen in the back of the store and light the ancient gas stove with a match. We all sat on well worn vinyl chairs around the old formica table. Whenever I did or said something funny Ojiji's head would go backwards, his eyes scrunched tightly and his laugh would turn into sort of a wheezy cough. Ojiji was an accomplished cook and no one minded that my tastes were slightly blackened cast iron skillet fried skinny baloney sandwiches with little cuts to make a pinwheel on white bread along with some chocolate pudding on the side which Grandma made for me.
During the day I'd walk up to Ojiji and tell him, "I have to go." Meaning I needed him to take me to the bathroom. He'd shuffle slowly in his dressy brown laced shoes and fancy pleated trousers to the back of the store to get the broom then carefully sweep out the bathroom and wait outside for me. He did it because a frog jumped out of nowhere and terrified me the last time I was there and I always thought there were more hiding. Although we never encountered another frog we kept the same routine.
Ojiji never minded that I did all the talking and wasn't bothered when I zoomed in and out of his tailor shop or played in the piles of scrap materials or even when I tapped my fake nails loudly on the ancient dark stained wood and cloudy glass showcases hoping someone would notice how pretty my nails were. Grandma on the other hand would give me the same stare daddy gave us when we did something wrong and I'd settle down for a bit before zooming in and out again.
Whenever Ojiji came to Honolulu, he'd stop at a famous Dim Sum shop in Chinatown and bring a huge box of mixed dim sum. There was always a dozen of everything and I'd immediately reach for the white fluffy rice cakes. He was every bit a gentleman, generous, quiet and a very kind and patient man who loved kids and was always very happy to see me.
