And I Love You So...

Here is a short story I wrote for a writing class back in 1999.

Me and Reidy Boy was listening to G.I. Joe say his last line, "Now you know . . . and knowing is half the battle," wen I see da blue stayshen wagon pulling up. "Dad stay home!"

I dunno why my sistah them shame of that car. Why they gotta duck wen we pass their friends? We tink da wagon is da bes', me and Reidy Boy. We like fo' sit in da back and stare at da cars behind tru da big window. Even get pukas on da floor so every time we get food or someting, we drop 'em out da puka and look tru da window fo' find 'um. Dad get da bes' car.

He slowly make his way into da kitchen and drop on da chair. As he grumble about work, me and Reidy Boy gotta hemo his work boots 'cause das our job. I get da right one, he get da left. He get shahp kine boots. No mo' jus' pukas fo' da string but get hooks too. Ho, trippy kine. "Reidy Boy, go get Dad one beer!"

Aftah he guzzle down his beer, he gotta shoot fertaliza in da field so da ti-leaves grow nice. I like fo' watch him shoot fertaliza from his silva backpack, jus' like da guys from da ghostbusta movie. I start dancing and I sing to him, "Who you gonna call? Ghostbustas!" He jus' laugh.

Today is Thursday so Dad gotta make his pūpūs fo' his drinking buddies, da blue tent gang. He always make da bes' pūpūs and tonight he making our favorite, da ʻonoest fishcake. My mouth start fo' watah as I wait fo' da first batch pau cook. Like always, he slice 'em up into long pieces and he no moa chance fo' put 'em on da pepa plate 'cause me, my bradas and sistahs buzz around him like flies and grind 'em as he slice 'em. And everytime we go in da kitchen, we sneak some moa slices. "Eh, das fo' my pūpūs!" he tell us, but I know he happy that we love his fishcake 'cause aftah he leave, we spahk one plate of fishcake jus' fo' us.

Wen they come home, I can hear my dad yelling, "Bakataka'ā!" I dunno what that mean. I no even tink he know what that mean. Might not even be one word, but he always say 'em when he come home from da blue tent.

He stumble into da parlor singing, "And I love you so . . . da people ask me why." Das da two lines he sing every time. Probably das da only lines he know. "But I dunno why." I tink he made that line up.

I put my ear on his big ʻōpū and listen to his ocean - gurgle, gurgle, gurgle. Then, wen he start fo' doze off, I listen fo' that noise his teeth make - grit, grit, grit. And with his ocean and his teeth as back up, I sing, "And I love you so . . ."



I love and miss you Dad! Happy Father's Day!!!