HONOLULU (AP) — People don’t know. They just don’t. And so upon seeing Cody Costa for the first time, young children sometimes scream and run away, and well-intentioned old ladies smile benevolently and try to press a dollar into his
HONOLULU (AP) — People don’t know. They just don’t. And so upon seeing Cody Costa for the first time, young children sometimes scream and run away, and well-intentioned old ladies smile benevolently and try to press a dollar into his hand.
So newly introduced acquaintances speak extra loudly, unsure if Costa can hear (he doesn’t have earlobes, after all) or even comprehend what they’re saying (he certainly can).
So eye doctors apply moisturizing drops to his fever-red eyes without bothering to find out that, even without the benefit of hands, Costa is more than capable of applying his own drops, thank you.
People don’t know, and understanding this is what enables Costa to shrug it all off, to avoid viewing the world with the same judgmental eyes through which he himself is so often appraised.
“Sometimes people catch a glance at me and say, ‘Whoa!’” Costa said. “I’m used to it. I don’t let it bother me.”
Costa bears most obviously the marks of a horrific childhood accident that left him with third-degree burns over 75 percent of his body. Against every reasonable prognosis, Costa survived and has spent most of the last two decades defying expectations of what his life could and should be. Now at age 23, he is trying to carve a niche for himself in the adult working world.
This summer he began working at Island Skill Gathering’s South King Street location. Under the tutelage of Michael Miyashiro, Costa learned the ins and outs of selling a range of assistive devices for those with visual and hearing impairments.
The two get along well. Both have experienced significant vision loss, Miyashiro through a combination of eye trauma and glaucoma, and Costa as a result of corneal damage from not having eyelids. More important, they share the same dark sense of humor and low tolerance for pretense.
“(Miyashiro) seemed like a cocky guy when I first met him,” Costa said. “I liked that. He’s pretty cool.”
Costa was 2 years old when his mother brought him to an aunt’s house for a visit and placed him in a crib upstairs. At some point during the visit, a young cousin with Down syndrome got hold of a lighter and, without understanding the consequences, set Costa’s blanket ablaze.
The fire took Costa’s ears, nose, lips and eyelids. It consumed his hands and forearms, eventually leading to amputation.
Doctors gave Costa just a 2 percent chance of surviving.
Donna Costa was the first to arrive at the hospital.
“I didn’t think he was going to survive it,” she said. “I was most concerned that he hadn’t been baptized yet, so we arranged to do it in the triage room.”
Over the years, he has undergone more than 75 surgeries.
Donna Costa and her husband, Wayne, took over custody of Cody Costa and his brother a few years after the accident. It was on their dairy farm in Waianae that he recovered his health, pushed past his physical limitations and nurtured his dreams of living a normal life.
“It was an exciting childhood,” Costa said, laughing. “My grandparents made sure we all worked. They made all of us chase cows.”
Along the way, he made friends with help from his sense of humor and penchant for crazy stunts. And on those rare occasions when he’d be targeted by a would-be bully, Costa took care of things in what he calls “the Waianae way”: “We’d settle it and later we’d become friends.”
Through good times and bad, Costa has always found solace in art. Wielding his upper arms like highly adept chopsticks, Costa can spend hours drawing fantastical images in the style of Japanese manga and anime with a pencil or, more often, with high-tech instruments connected to his computer.
“I draw what I want to see,” Costa said. “My characters express what I’m thinking. I draw faces because I can’t make facial expressions. I put my emotions on my character’s faces.”
Costa is at a crossroads familiar to many young men his age. His high school friends have moved away. He takes classes at Leeward Community Colleges but is unsure where it will lead.
Donna Costa thinks his easy voice and quick wit would be a good match for a broadcast career. Miyashiro thinks Cody should pursue his art. Costa himself entertains thoughts of applying his artistic skills to animation.
At the same time, Costa’s vision has worsened considerably. His grandmother fears his uncertainty about the future has left him in a state of cautious inertia. Still, she is confident her grandson will figure things out.
“I want Cody to have a family,” she said.
On this point Cody Costa is in complete agreement. Just ask.
“I want to be married and have kids and have a nice house like the one I grew up in,” he says. “I’m optimistic.”
