My Kind of Town
Coming to terms
>> Queen's Medical Center
Sheets Ah Sun had never been one to kiss his sons, not even when they were little guys. A male kissing a male? Sounded like a recipe for creating a quee ... no he wasn't supposed to use that word ... creating a gay son.
But here he was with a gay son. Not that he was caught entirely off guard. Ever since that day when Lance was about 10 and Sheets tried to pack him and Laird, the older boy, off to go papio fishing at Hau'ula and Lance said no, he'd rather stay home and bake snickerdoodles with his sister Lily, Sheets knew something wasn't right with the boy. He attributed Lance's dancing with the Honolulu Ballet and working as a free-lance window-dresser to his artistic side. But he'd never admitted that his youngest son was gay.
It was tough to avoid that conclusion after Sheets walked into Lance's room and saw a guy kissing Lance, who'd just come out of a coma, and calling him darling. When the guy got so excited he hugged and kissed Sheets too, he'd cold-cocked him. Good thing Sheets didn't pack the punch he used to. Greg's nose didn't seem to be broken. Lily insisted that he apologize, for Lance's sake, and pushed him inside the room.
"Sorry, eh," Sheets said to Greg. "You guys, uh, you caught me off guard."
He didn't wait for a reply, turned to Lance. "Nice to see you back with us, boy. You had me worried."
Lance couldn't remember hearing that much tenderness in his father's voice ever. "Dad," he whispered hoarsely, reached out a pale hand, weakly grabbed his father's.
It was weird, no doubt about it. But Sheets could handle for his son's sake. When Lance squeezed his hand, he squeezed back.
Grace Ah Sun didn't know which was the bigger miracle, that Lance had come back from such a terrible blow to the head or that her husband was accepting his son's gayness with such equanimity? The earlier punch not withstanding. Married 28 years and he still surprised her in ways that deepened her love for him.
>> "Ho'ola actually said that, 'Bobo went bye-bye?'" Quinn Ah Sun said.
"Yes," his cousin Lily replied.
Well, he thought, she's a goddess. She can do as she pleases.
"Quinn, I wonder if this might explain why our fathers don't want to talk about him."
"Bobo's dead? And they know something about it? Could be."
Lily glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry, I really do have to go, Quinn. The Navy is dying to ask me about the flower bomb terrorist."
She left him with one lingering kiss, and wanting more.
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