Lipoa Rd.

There was a thin slat of night sky from where I'm lying on, and an airplane flew in the dark with its beeping lights, and it reminded me of my six year-old self, looking from a jalousy in Honolulu towards the night sky, where the same beeping lights flew. Back then it was very hot, and we had to subsist in a single electric fan, in a cramped room. That was also the time when I sleepwalked. I could remember other things: Juicy Fruit bubble gum packets from one of Dad's housemates (who also lives in the next room); mornings when we had Spam and fried rice for breakfast; an indoor golf and a framed 3D painting of the sea - which my Dad and his officemates insist that there are fishes in the water - in their office; the saltwater at Waikiki Beach that for a six year old miraculously tasted of salt; the cage of bicycles for rent; the delight when I first saw the laundry room with its front door bubbles and roving machines; the pool in the middle of the apartments, the car wash with its two huge brushes, the synchronized sprinklers; the Power Rangers robot we bought at Swap Meet with its torso that bleeps when activated; the ramps at Toys R' Us that I was very fond of; the train at Sears Tower, right across where we lived, at Lipoa Road; those day trips upstairs from our third floor apartment - the view that lets you smell the sea and taste the saltwater and feel the heat of those summer days. It felt very alien back then to be in a different place, but it was also wonderful. from October 25, 2017