Works of fiction and poetry by friends of Bamboo Ridge Press.

There Goes The Neighbors

Published by DOREEN B. | Monday, September 03, 2018 7:19 PM

Part Three

Part 1

"Yessir, that's the way it goes," Dad remarked. "Sooner or later come our turn."

Mom and Dad had just returned from a graveside memorialization for a recently deceased neighbor at the Hawaiian Memorial Park Cemetery. It was a private affair; a somber circle of family and two neighbors gathering to commemorate a man who was a husband, father, grandfather and a good neighbor to us for over forty years. Word of Mr. Masaki's passing spread through the neighborhood. There was no obituary.

"Mr. Hidoi stopped by yesterday," Mom blistered. "He named all the neighbors who died, then snickered saying that your father was next!"

Part 2

That was five years ago. Dad turns 86 years old this year. He is planning his last pig hunt on the Big Island this summer and is registered to run in the December Honolulu Marathon. Even he, however, didn't think he'd live past his 57th birthday. That was the age his father was when he succumbed to a hemorrhagic stroke.

My then 58-year-old sister accompanied him on his last hunt. "Yeah, well, had to make exceptions for him last year when he went hunting," she explained. "He had gout so bad he couldn't walk without a cane. I...

Part 3

had to push his wheelchair from the airplane. He lucky he could put on his shoes! He shot from inside the truck. Not supposed to do that. Took down two goats."

When Dad retired for the first time at age 60, Mr. Masaki asked if he ever thought of running in the Honolulu Marathon. In fact, he hadn't. Mr. Masaki was an avid runner; out the door at 4:30 a.m. most mornings, carrying a big stick. "For the loose dogs," he disclosed sheepishly. One year, not long before he passed, I bumped into him while walking to the drug...


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