My Kind of Town
The luckiest guy
>> PortlockLily Ah Sun did not like the thoughts spinning through her head. Lily considered herself to be, well, not liberal, that's for sure, but a very accepting person, and certainly without prejudices. Still, there was something about her visitor that bothered her. And Lily didn't like knowing these things bothered her.
For starters, Lily didn't like realizing that she was troubled by Muhammed Resurreccion's Muslim name. Or that he came from Zamboanga, where news reports said U.S. troops were based in the war on the terrorist group Abu Sayaf. Lily did not want to stereotype him. And she reminded herself that one of her drivers at Ola Essences was a Muslim, Rashaad Williams, the former UH football player. A good man, a good employee.
Further, Lily reminded herself, Muhammed Resurreccion was the cousin of her maid Rosalita's late husband Jesus. He was family. As her husband's eldest male relative, Muhammed had taken responsibility for Rosalita and her daughter, and arranged a work visa for Rosalita to come to Hawaii where she could earn far more than she ever could back.
But there was something about Muhammed that bothered Lily. She just couldn't put her finger on it.
>> Queen's Medical Center
"I'm so lucky that they sent me the world's greatest nurse," HPD solo bike officer Quinn Ah Sun said, holding the hand of nurse Nina Ramones, who had just changed the dressing on the gunshot wound to his right thigh.
Nina blushed. "They" hadn't sent her. Nina, newly divorced and already tired of sleeping alone, volunteered to work an OT shift so she could care for patient Ah Sun. He gently squeezed her hand, she squeezed back.
"Knock knock," they heard a male voice call as the door opened.
Nina jumped and jerked her hand out of Quinn's, fearing Dr. Elton Nakasone would catch her acting unprofessionally. "Knock knock" was Dr. Knockers' trademark entry line, followed by a corny knock-knock joke.
Nina turned, relieved to see HPD Sgt. Mits Ah Sun in his blue uniform.
"Howzit, Pops?" Quinn said.
"That's what I was going to ask you."
"Happy to report, sir, your son is doing much better," Nina said. "I was just on my way out." Which was not true at all. She was willing to linger here with Quinn, giving him all her skill and care. "See you later."
"Hope so," he said.
As the door closed, Mits lightly tousled his son's thick hair and swore under his breath.
"What?" Quinn said.
Mits picked up a photocopy of an old news story from the table beside Quinn's bed. "What the hell is this?" he said, already knowing the answer.
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