George always thought of himself as an ordinary man. He was ordinary in height, ordinary in dress, ordinary in eating habits, and ordinary in employment. At 52, he had been a public bus driver in Honolulu for nearly 20 years and drove the #8 route between Ala Moana Center and the Waikiki hotels delivering visitors from their rented caves to the over-hyped sprawling mall and back again.

When he wasn’t working, George spent much of his free time preparing and cooking food that he loved to share with his brother Al, his wife, and 5 children. He made local favorites like boiled peanuts, poke, fish jerky, and many of the other dishes that were enjoyed at the many parties held at Al’s home.

George was a generous uncle who would often scoop up the kids for weekend rides around the island to give his brother some quiet time with his wife. He would take the kids to the beach at Waimanalo and tell them about when he was little and how the entrance was practically hidden by California grass and how he and their father had spent long summer days running up and down the white sand beaches and exploring the stream that fed into the ocean until their mom, leaning on an ironwood tree, would shout their names loud enough for everyone on the beach to hear.

“Uncle, uncle”, the kids would scream, “We want Icee! And he would happily pull his weather-beaten Toyota station wagon into the sandy parking lot of the small store that sold the frozen drink. The kids invariably ended up with candy and crackseed in addition to their slushes as they drove down the country highway along the green Koolau mountains toward town. They rolled past the Hygienic Store which was the marker of what George referred to as civilization, on to town, and he dropped the kids off to their waiting parents.

When the pandemic hit, George was declared an essential worker and dutifully showed up for his route as he always had. In the beginning, the bus was empty, and the air-conditioning made his hands numb by the end of his shift. Slowly, more of the Filipino and other immigrant maids, janitors, and maintenance workers began to return to work and the buses were maybe half full. George was very glad that people were wearing their masks and staying a safe distance from each other and him.

This new level of activity continued on for several months and George eased into a new ordinary routine. Maybe he was a little more careful in washing his hands or doubling his mask when he went into Chinatown to get the special for his beloved cooking, but these too returned to ordinary for him. Al couldn’t have parties anymore, so George prepared and carefully wrapped each bundle of love that he dropped off on the front porch and waved to everyone as he drove off. He missed the kids, but he knew that his job made him a much higher risk to be a carrier and it was more important that they be safe than he have company.

One very sunny Monday as George pulled up to the bus stop at Lewers Street, five twenty-something, maskless men tried to push their way into his bus.

“No mask, no ride”, he told them.

“Aw man! Why you gotta be so uptight?”, they said.

“Rules”, he said pointing to the garish yellow sign stating that masks must be worn.

Rushing past him and flashing their passes, they gave him the middle finger as they strolled towards the back of the bus.

“This is fucking America you Nazi. We have rights”, they screamed as they sat down next to other riders.

As instructed, George radioed in and stopped the bus. Two of the boys came up to him and their shouting grew louder and more profane. Shortly, the police arrived and removed the boys.

Three days later, George awoke in a coughing fit and his head felt like a volcano ready to erupt. He called his doctor who told him to stay home and let nobody in.

Al brought him food and it brightened his day just to hear the familiar voice through the door.

Two days later, Al knocked and there was no answer. He wanted to use his spare key but knew better. The ambulance arrived and it was over.

In George’s fragile existence,  life was ordinary, ordinary was normal, and the new normal was death.