Coffee at JJ's - Ch. 2, Part 2

   As he talks, Toshi smiles at the memory of his father. When he finishes, he pushes a small paper plate toward me. "Have some donkey balls," he says calmly. I look down and see half a dozen donut holes on the plate. Donkey balls? I've never heard them called that before. As I reach for one, I ask Toshi, "So if nobody paid your father, how'd he make any money?"
   Toshi gives me another smile. "Oh, we survived. My dad didn't work for the money; he did it because he liked fixing things. Them Mexican kids were so happy to get their bikes fixed for free that they were always stopping by with food for us. I grew up liking beans and enchiladas better than sushi and rice. I learned how to cuss in Spanish before I could do it in English. Tu madre," he adds, to prove his point.
   We laugh, then lapse into a pleasant silence. After a moment, Greg says, "I don't want to keep you from your book."
   "No, that's okay," I tell him. "I can do this any time."
   To emphasize the point, I set my coffee cup on top of the closed manuscript and we continue talking for another half hour or so. I learn that Jake still works as a truck driver. Greg is a retired pharmacist's assistant and Rudy doesn't say whether he is retired or not. So I don't ask. I figure he'll tell me later if he wants.
   "Toshi," Greg explains, "used to own Toshi's Rod & Reel Shop down the block."
   I look at Toshi in surprise. I remember walking past his place several times during the last few years and wondering how anyone could make a living selling fishing gear so far from the ocean. San Pedro is a good twenty miles to the south of us and Santa Monica is about the same distance to the west. I make a note to ask Toshi how he managed to stay in business so many years.
   "But the shop isn't there now, is it?" I ask him.
   "Naw, I closed it up a while back," Toshi says. "Just got tired of the damned thing." Then he adds, "You know, my dad used to have a bicycle shop in East L.A."
   Not wanting to remind him he's already told me this, I just nod. No one else says anything.
   "Yeah," Toshi goes on complacently, "after we got back from Manzanar, he used to fix all the bikes in the neighborhood. Never charged a penny."
   Again I nod as Greg, Rudy and Jake look away, clearly uncomfortable. They pretend not to have heard.
   "They used to bring us Mexican food instead of money. I liked enchiladas better than sushi." Toshi chuckles, but no one else says anything for a long moment. There follows a distinctly uncomfortable silence. Finally, Greg stands and says he has to get going. He holds out a hand to me.
   "We're here every morning," he says. "Different guys from day to day, and there's more than a dozen of us altogether. Why don't you stop by and join us? It'll be good for you."
   ...Turns out he's right.
Read Chapter 3 Tomorrow