My Kind of Town

by Don Chapman

Sunday, July 29, 2001

The Honolulu Soap Co.:
Sunday digest

>> Makiki Heights

"Look at it like this, senator. You just got yourself an unofficial but very personal parole officer," HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes said, pulling a mini-camera from a pants pocket. "Go stand over there."

The senator obeyed, and Gomes took several photos of the Democrats' best hope in 2002 and the glass pipe on the corner table, then pulled a plastic baggie from another pocket. Using his handkerchief, he placed the pipe in the bag.

"Remember, senator, this has nothing to do with you," Gomes said. "It's because I'm eternally indebted to your late father. So here's our deal."

In politics, Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka always tried to operate from a position of strength. But at the moment, caught with an ice pipe on the corner table and loaded to the gills, he didn't have much choice. "OK."

"I have photos of you and this pipe, which I'm sure has your finger prints on it, and which I am taking with me. If you fail to live up to any part of our deal, I'll arrest your okole. Got that?"

"Uh-huh." Uh-oh was more like it.

"Day after tomorrow, you will be on a flight to Portland, where I am going to book you a room at the Michael Villareal Rehab Center. You will stay there until my friends there say you're ready to leave.When you return, I am going to be your personal parole officer. You will submit to periodic, random drug testing. You fall off the wagon once, senator, and you get to find out if what they say about sex in prisons is true.

"But you get yourself cleaned up, straighten yourself out and stay clean, this stays between me and you only."

He could still be governor. If the price he had to pay was facing his demons, Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka was willing to try.

>> Queen's Medical Center

"The danger with trauma to the head," ER social worker Lin Matsuo explained, "is that it can affect cardio-pulmonary functions - heart and lungs." Grace Ah Sun squeezed her husband Sheets' hand, the hand that just had touched her so knowingly as they made love.

"So Lance has been intubated 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 at the Capitol. There was a scuffle during a 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 one of the young men fall and hit his head on a curb. How could she have known it was her baby?

>> Executive Center

"No!" Van Truong said when her friend Nikki at work suggested signing up for an Internet singles club. "It's all those weirdos!"

But Nikki wrote down the internet address and told her to check it out. And that night, after a long day in the ER, the loneliness began to come over her again, as it always did when the sun went down. Well, Nikki said it was all anonymous. Van typed in the address on her computer and held her breath.

>> Portlock

"You just rest there, OK, Elizabeth?" Lily Ah Sun said. "And help yourself to the Popsicles in the freezer. They'll make your sore throat feel better. I'm going to show Quinn around."

"Nice to meet you, Quinn," the six-year-old said, displaying the perfect manners Lily had taught her. But then youthful enthusiasm and honesty leapfrogged manners. "Are you going to come back again?"

Quinn blushed. God, he wanted to be asked back to Lily's home. She was his cousin, sure, but when he'd first pulled her over for speeding today, they shared a moment, and both knew that this was exactly what they'd each been waiting for their whole lives. Just minutes ago at Maunalua Bay they let their passions get the better of them, and they shared a long kiss. Quinn knew they must never do it again, but he also did not want to go another 21 years without seeing Lily again.

"Absolutely, Elizabeth," Lily said and smiled warmly at her cousin. "You'll get to know Uncle Quinn much better. Now, you just rest. I want to introduce Quinn to your Mama."

Straddling Rosalita on the bed, pinning the tiny Filipina maid's arms to her sides with his legs, Mickey held the gun to her head with one hand. In the other was the big butcher knife he'd taken from the kitchen. He used it to rip open her white blouse with a violent upward slash. Rosalita was so terrified, she could hardly breathe. Next was her white bra. Breathing like a rutting boar, he wedged the gleaming 12-inch blade blade between white lace and brown skin and sliced open the center clasp.

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

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