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My Kind of Town

Don Chapman

Wednesday, June 4, 2003


Play it again, Sam


>> Above Turtle Bay

Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka could have stayed there beside the mountain pond with Ku'u forever. She was an attractive young woman, and on the second night she stayed with him after he rescued her from Clayton she showed just how grateful she was. Yes, he could have stayed there forever.

But then the Bud ran out, and the senator was at last forced to do something. With only a vague plan in mind, he loaded Ku'u and the 12 big pakalolo plants they'd stolen from Clayton (and stuffed into Hefty bags) onto the back of the ATV and headed down the hill. While he was No. 1 on CrimeStoppers' most wanted list and his photograph was published in the papers, the senator was a different man now. It had been days since he shaved. And he wore old surf shorts, a dirty "Eh!" T-shirt and Surfah flip-flops.

That first day they hung out at Sunset Beach, where the senator ran into Sam -- the same Sam who days ago tried to kill him. You'd never have known it. "Eh, senatah, howzit?!"

"OK, Sam. You interested in doing a deal?"

Flush after the ice sale from which the senator was supposed to have gotten half, Sam beamed, patted his left pocket.

The senator saw a bulge of cash. He also saw that Sam was flying high. "I got 12 big pakalolo plants."

"I'm in."

Sam followed to the frontage road where Ku'u waited on the ATV. As Sam bent over one of the bags to smell the aroma, the senator smacked him on the back of the head with the butt of his Glock. Sam slumped to his knees, the senator hit him again, pushed him into some bushes and quickly relieved Sam of his money clip, his car keys and a .357. They sped to Sam's van, the same one he'd taken from Isaac Kunia's band of idiots, tossed the big baggies into the back and drove away, abandoning the ATV. They stopped at the Pupukea Foodland, counted the money -- $10,000 and change. In a satchel, they found another $30,000. "Let's party!" the senator said.

They also found multiple sets of license plates. "Sammy, Sammy," he said, "you've been busy."

They went inside Foodland, checked the bulletin board, found several listings for vacation rentals, made a call and got a place. After stocking up on Bud and other essentials, and stopping to change the plates, they checked into a little bungalow with a private pool and Jacuzzi near Waimea Bay.

Note to readers: This week we're tying up loose ends from the two previous books, "The Honolulu Soap Company" and "Hunt Club." On Monday, June 9 we begin the third, "False Teeth."



See the Columnists section for some past articles.

Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com

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