My Kind of Town
Grabbed by the insides
>> Honolulu Soap Co.
Sheets Ah Sun sat at his desk, which like the file cabinets was steel, old, chipped and in need of Rustoleum resuscitation. His chair was worn and squeaked. Nothing in the office could be called decorative, with the exception of a golf ball mounted on a trophy -- the Titleist with which he'd made a hole-in-one at Ala Wai, 11th hole, back in '89. Other than that, Sheets was all business and no frills. He expected his eldest son Laird would be the same way when he took over. He'd always been a no-nonsense kid.
Sheets glanced at the pre-digital clock radio on the desk. Laird should be out of his last final at Stanford Business by now. He picked up the phone, dialed the number for Laird's cell.
>> Lily Ah Sun's office was the most tasteful work space in lower Kalihi. Not lavish, but thoughtful. Sitting at her koa desk, she surveyed the tapa mats on the floor, the flock of golden origami cranes flying from the ceiling, the Chinese calligraphy on the wall. Each reflected an aspect of her ethnic heritage. On the wall facing her desk was the Jackie Black painting she'd bought for $800 at the Honolulu Water Color Society show. The deep greens and purples of the Ko'olaus were perfect, and grabbed Lily by the insides. And isn't that why we look at art and listen to music and fall in love? To be grabbed like that? Oh, Lily had been grabbed, alright, by her cousin Quinn. But she'd quickly learned her lesson with him. And good riddance.
But now an idea had taken hold of her. She had to be free of her father. Either she was moving all of her office furnishings out because Ola Essences would be independent of the parent Honolulu Soap Co. or she'd be moving her things down the hall to her father's office because she would be in charge of the Soap Co.
Lost in thought, Lily jumped when her phone, carved in the shape of a shama thrush, chirped.
"Oh, Greg, I'm sorry I didn't get back to you. Things have been crazy."
It was her brother Lance's lover. She was the only one in the family Lance trusted enough to introduce to Greg. She'd run into him in the ER waiting room last night.
"But the good news," Lily continued, "is that the doctors say he's making progress."
Lily listened to Greg sob for a while.
"Sure, that seems only right. But you should probably visit when my dad's not there. I don't think he could handle the gay thing on top of everything else right now."
But if Lily was so mad at her father, why was she protecting him from reality?
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