The Life and Adventures of Pineapple Sam
Garden of Sugar and Pineapples
by Pineapple Sam
Copyright © 2012 Pineapple Sam
All Rights Reserved
Dedication
Dedicated to my faithful listeners and readers, without them, my stories are nothing but jumbled letters put together with no meaning. Thank you for giving me a purpose to continue telling my stories with passion and enjoyment. If you don’t read or listen, please pass it on so that another may discover entertainment in the adventures of Pineapple Sam.
Disclaimer
The following memoirs are constructed from what I (and others with whom I conferred) can remember of the times depicted. While each and every event may not be true in every detail, the events described contain a larger truth that I call “emotional truth”. These are the ways the memories presented themselves to me and grew in my mind as I concentrated on the gifts of the past. I look forward to hearing from others who may remember things differently. We can learn from each other.
Table of Contents
Author's Introduction
The First Adventure
Gardens of Earthly Delight
Magic and Mischief
Sugar Days and Pineapple Nights
The Tomato Salesman
The Paper Route
Willy and Me
Up the Creek without a Paddle
Introduction
I am known as Pineapple Sam. Having adventures in life was easy. Writing is difficult, but I promised myself that I would leave stories behind so people can enjoy them and so that my loved ones can have some idea of Pineapple Sam’s life. My adolescent and teenage years were exciting times in my life, but things got just as interesting in my adult life. Many people tell me they enjoy hearing my stories so I am glad to share chapters of my life’s journey as long as I can. I am sure your own life was just as exciting or perhaps your future years will be just as colorful.
As the youngest child in a large family of four sisters, three brothers and my parents, I observed my siblings and learned a lot from them. However, as the brat of the family, I had more freedom to investigate things further and gain many of my own experiences. If you are like me, you know what I am talking about.
When I give you a brief glimpse of the events that occurred in my life, maybe you'll see some of the same themes that happened in your own growing years. If you are just beginning your personal journey of teenage dilemmas that lead into adult life, then this may be a reminder of what could occur in your life too. After all, my stories are based on actual events, as I remembered and wrote them. Some people might call this a book of fiction; others will categorize it as creative nonfiction. Like we say in the islands, "Go figa." Okay, enough of the rambling. Let’s get to the adventures!
Kauai
Garden of Sugar and Pineapples
The First Adventure
At the bus stop, Januaria took several deep breaths of cool, clean mountain air. The people nearby smiled at her when they noticed her huge belly. A plantation worker offered her his seat on the bench where they were waiting. She thanked him and slowly sat down, releasing a sigh.
Januaria crossed her arms over her bulging belly and smiled as the baby moved vigorously inside. Her small, wicker bag hung from her right arm. She closed her eyes and wiped away the tears that tried to escape from their corners.
The days began early in Hawaii. Her husband, Segundo, left at four thirty in the morning to catch the plantation trucks at the crossing. Her children left for school at seven a.m. Once her family was gone for the day, Januaria busied herself with light chores in the morning, waiting for the right moment to leave for Wilcox Hospital in Lihue. At eleven thirty, she decided it was time to walk to the bus stop with her identification and a few necessities packed neatly in her wicker bag.
A squeal of airbrakes startled her, and she looked up to see that the bus had arrived. People began disembarking as soon as the bus door opened, tromping down the stairs.
“Let me help you, nana.” A young, petite Filipino lady offered Januaria her hand and a smile and helped her up from the bench.
“Oh, thank you, my ading. You are so kind.” Her voice was weak but grateful to her fellow passenger.
“You are ready to have baby, nana. You look really big, no?”
“Yes, ading. I am going to the hospital now. It is time.”
“Nobody going with you to the hospital, nana?”
“No, but it is okay. I left a note for my children and tata. They will come to the hospital after work and school.”
“Oh. Good then.”
The last person to board the bus was a farmer. He waited for Januaria to climb the steps and helped her to an open chair behind the driver. “Nana, give me your hand. Let me help you.” The farmer gently grabbed her hand and guided her to a seat.
“Oh, thank you, barrock.”
This baby would be her eighth. She was a loving mother and was, she thought, quite experienced at giving birth. She continued her breathing exercises as she maintained her seated position, trying not to let the bouncing of the bus jar the baby too much. Each labor pain brought tightness to her belly and a grimace to her face until it finally ebbed away. It was an agonizing forty minutes before the bus finally pulled up in front of the hospital.
Januaria gathered her strength to exit the bus and to admit herself to deliver what she hoped would be her last child; after all, she was forty-two years old herself. Once she checked in at the admissions desk, the hospital nurses’ aides helped her into a wheelchair, and one wheeled her to her room. It had been an hour since the contractions made her leave the house.
“Good morning, Mrs. Tabalno. How are you today?” Dr. Kulman strolled into the room and greeted his patient with a smile.
“Good morning, Doctor,” she answered. “I think this baby is big boy, Doctor, yes?”
“Yes, I think so, but don’t worry. We can do this like the last time, with your son Hank, okay?”
“I hope so, Doctor, but I am a little scared this time,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
“It’ll be okay.” The doctor patted her hand to reassure her.
“Nasakit! It hurts worse than the last time, Doctor. Please give me medicine.” Her voice was almost a whisper as another contraction overtook her. “Nasakit! Nasakit!”
Dr. Kulman stepped over to one of the nurses and gave her instructions. When the nurse nodded her head, acknowledging his orders, they both left the room.
A few minutes later, she returned with a syringe. “This is pain medication the doctor ordered for you,” she said.
Januaria was quite relieved, but the pain was so strong she could only nod and offer a weak smile.
The labor pains and delivery seemed to be taking longer than usual, and even Dr. Kulman was a bit worried. It had been twelve hours since his patient’s labor had begun, and she was not dilated enough for the baby’s head to exit. “Your wife is trying very hard to deliver your child, but we may have no choice but to perform the C-section, Segundo,” he said, his third plea to the father of the yet-unborn baby; he could not perform the procedure without the consent of the next of kin.
“No need. We wait,” Segundo said, sitting next to his wife’s bed. He wrapped one of his work-worn hands over his wife’s and waved Dr. Kulman off with the other.
In spite of Segundo’s instructions, Dr. Kulman ordered that an operation room should be prepped.
The children were in the waiting room, with extended family, expecting good news at any moment, news of their new little brother entering the world.
Belinda, Januaria’s cousin, had been in and out of the delivery room and finally saw th
e need to intervene. She asked to speak to Dr. Kulman. “Doctor, I wish to talk to my cousin, Segundo, about the situation. I understand you are trying your best under the circumstances.”
“Please talk to him if you think it will help. We must convince him that a C-section is necessary at this point. Januaria’s and the infant’s lives are in danger.”
The operating room was alerted to stand by. In the room were two nurses, an anesthesiologist and an intern.
In the delivery room, beside his wife, Segundo listened to what Belinda had to say. He was skeptical about the C-section because he did not understand why it was necessary to cut the baby out of his wife, nor could he imagine her suffering in recovery, as she’d delivered her last seven children without incident. He did not understand why this time, this child, would be any different.
“Manong,” Belinda said, “please give Dr. Kulman permission to take out baby by C-section so manang doesn’t have to suffer anymore.”
After some hesitation, Segundo said, “We will ask your manang.” He stood and looked at his wife.
“Nasakit,