My Kind of Town
>> Royal Hawaiian Hotel Sibling rivalry
At times of crisis, times of joy, and all of the times in between, Lily Ah Sun and her two best friends, the identical but very different twins Fawn and Shauny Nakamura, talked. They talked about everything -- guys, jobs, parents, clothes, cramps. Still lying in bed, Lily needed to tell Fawn and Shauny about the incredible events of yesterday, especially the part about her and Quinn, and their kiss.
Shauny answered on the second ring.
"How do you feel this morning?" Lily said -- after their afternoon of drinking yesterday.
"Thank God that guy Chuck made us eat or I'd really have been in trouble!" Shauny said. She always spoke in exclamation points.
"Speaking of Chuck, I saw him again last night."
"Mr. Buns of Steel?! Rr-rrr!" said Shauny the tigress.
"You're going to have to keep your hands off the buns. It seems he and Fawn are now an item."
"What?! Fawn?!"
Unlike Shauny, who'd worn a virtual trail going "to the beach and back," Fawn was still a virgin at 27. Every guy she'd met bailed when Fawn said she intended to remain a virgin until her wedding night -- including an assistant pastor at the Full Faith Gospel Fellowship.
Shauny didn't like it, but she was beginning to think of her twin as an old maid. She'd never find a guy willing to wait until marriage. And Fawn was not going to give herself to a man before she was a missus. Shauny also didn't like this sudden jealous feeling. But, hey, it was Shauny who invited Chuck Ryan to lunch when they'd met him working out at the Honolulu Iron Works yesterday. And when it came to men, Shauny was accustomed to getting what she wanted. And she'd wanted Chuck Ryan. An older guy, but obviously an officer and a gentleman, and still in buff shape. She'd already imagined grabbing those buns of steel with both hands as they ...
"All I know," Lily continued, "is that Chuck looked totally in love last night."
>> Ala Moana Beach Park
Jimmy Ahuna, a Pearl Harbor shipyard retiree, had arrived at Ala Moana when it was still dark this morning and was setting up his poles and brackets when it glided past, silent, spectral. He knew it was the same mini-sub he'd seen a few weeks ago at Queen's Beach, with the same faded red circle painted on top of the hull. A shiver ran down Jimmy's back. It was a ghost ship. Had to be. So Jimmy gave up fishing for the day, and waited and watched for a sign of the sub inside the reef.
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