"You Talked to Cousin. He Doesn't Speak to Anyone."

It was late November in Hawaii. I was about to lose my job and close on my first house/home. I was floating in the Pacific Ocean on Waikiki.
I was invited to an island Thanksgiving. My first Japanese-American traditional celebration. Mother was there and she was not fully lucid. I asked her questions about her job in the school back in the 1930s and 1940s. And cousin was sitting and watching a Japanese soap opera. My host was making rice for cousin. Cousin had to have white rice with every meal... ALWAYS.
So I asked him what he did for a living. He said he worked in electronics.
"That's fascinating," I told him. "My dad was an electrician and my brother is an electrical engineer. I've never met someone who works in electronics. So, what do you do?"
"I maintain vacuum tubes on Pearl Harbor."
My eyes bugged out. "PEARL HARBOR? Like on the ships?"
"Yes."

...

I don't remember too much after that. It was the most anyone had ever seen or heard this man speak. He would come with his wife to family events and he would sit near the television and watch whatever was on while is domineering wife commanded the kitchen by domineering it, I guess. All the husband would ask for was white rice. It was an addiction. Even during lavish, elaborate feasts, the man wanted to have his ration of white rice.
Not sure if I made him feel uncomfortable. He seemed capable of saying no if he had wanted to. And who on earth would really be fascinated with a discussion of vacuum tubes? Yet, I listened.
At the end of this month I will return to Honolulu and this time I will include a trip to Pearl Harbor.