My Kind of Town
>> Makiki Heights How could she know?
"I'll call you tomorrow morning with your flight information, and I'll be your ride to the airport," HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes said, gently placing the plastic bag that held the senator's ice pipe in a trouser pocket. "And pack a sweater -- Oregon summers can be cool."
Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka could only nod. "Remember, I don't care about your political career, senator. I'm doing this for your late father. You still have a chance to make him proud."
When Gomes walked out of the hillside home, he was greeted by writer Cruz MacKenzie and photographer Johnny B. Goo of the Star-Bulletin.
"You guys don't give up, do you?"
Johnny B was incredulous. "Do you?"
"So what's the story?" MacKenzie said, turning on his pocket tape recorder. "What does the senator know about this Serena Kawainui who drove his car off the Keeau-moku Overpass this morning?"
"I can't comment on an ongoing investigation," Gomes said. "But I think you already have your story."
Yes, they did. A photo of the whacked-out senator throwing a frothing long-neck Bud bottle at Johnny B was already being prepared for Page 1.
>> Queen's Medical Center
"The danger with trauma to the head," ER social worker Lin Matsuo explained, "is that it can affect cardiopulmonary functions -- heart and lungs."
Grace Ah Sun squeezed her husband Sheets' hand.
"So Lance has been incubated to keep him breathing regularly," Ms. Matsuo continued. "And because the trauma released blood into the brain, doctors have also drilled a small hole in his skull to lower the pressure on the brain."
Sheets Ah Sun understood the medical side, but he still didn't know how his son was injured. "You say he fell. Where? How?"
The social worker looked at the report. "He was injured on the Capitol grounds. There was a scuffle during a demonstration."
"Demonstration?"
"Oh my God!" Grace threw a hand over her mouth, trembling. She had seen it all from the senator's fourth-floor office at the Capitol. She'd heard the chanting from the hate crimes bill rally. There were so many people, it was hard to make out individuals. But Grace saw a big skinhead wade into the crowd swinging his fists, saw a young man fall and hit his head on a curb. It was so ugly, Grace turned away. How could she have known it was her baby?
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com