My Kind of Town
The sound of yes
>> Queen's Medical Center
Despite her father's angry, defensive posture, Lily Ah Sun walked to where he sat in a chair across her brother Lance's room in the ICU, leaned down, kissed his cheek. "Hi, Dad," she said warmly, privately thanking Ho'ola for the uncommon gift of magnanimity, because just minutes ago she was also angry and ready to tangle with him.
Lily's mother swept her up, hugging her only daughter, and breathed deep the lingering scent of the goddess -- eucalyptus, jasmine and sea brine. "You saw her too, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"I'm so glad," Grace said and hugged her daughter tighter. "And look, she touched Lance."
The baby of the family, Lance had fallen and hit the back of his head on a concrete curb during the hate crimes bill rally at the Capitol, and had been in a coma ever since. It was, Lily knew, her brother's big coming out, his first public admission that he was gay. And it led to this, lying in a coma with tubes running into and out of his head to relieve the swelling. Holding Lily's hand, Grace whispered into Lance's ear and he twitched, a vague smile forming on his lips.
"He can hear me, Lily! He's going to be OK!"
Lily leaned down, whispered into her baby brother's ear. "Hey, Lance, it's me, Lily. I love you. Come back and see us soon."
Lance made an indecipherable sound, but to Lily and Grace it sounded like "yes!"
>> HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes kept his "scholarship" a secret from his HPD colleagues. Some might deduce that Gomes believed he was above the law. That wasn't it. But there were times when Gomes truly believed that rehab, education and positive encouragement would be more useful than prison.
The scholarship began one night in 1997 when he pulled over a car that was swerving down Manoa Road. The driver, a prominent businessman from an old kama'aina family, was stinking drunk. Instead of making a DUI arrest, a sure way to earn points in the HPD system, Gomes gave him a ride home, and on the way had a little talk about returning mercy with mercy. They talked the next day and the day after that, and the businessman wrote Gomes a check to endow the scholarship.
The businessman would bring in several of his friends, fellow members of various clubs around town. Private men by nature, they rather liked knowing that they were doing something clandestine. And of course they felt good about turning around lives, without getting their hands dirty. Gomes was in charge of that.
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