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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Eh, cuz!
>>Off the Big Island
Waiting for the rendezvous with the Japanese fishing boat Tuna Maru, Sonya Chan and Daren Guy were killing time aboard the yacht Wet Spot. The TV was on, just background noise after they made love, until a voice that sounded exactly like Daren's but with a kind of country twang said "Howdy, I'm Virgil Root and I'm pleased that starting next week KHON will be carrying my show, 'Pendleton RFD,' where every week we bring you the best of outdoor life in the West..."
They both jerked their heads toward the TV. Not only did he sound like Daren, but this Virgil Root, Sonya saw, looked like Daren's identical twin, especially now that Daren shaved his head. Could this be the mysterious VR?
"...In fact, we're coming to Hawaii to tape several shows -- hunting wild boar on Maui, deep-water hunting for ulua off Oahu and fishing for shark off the Big Island."
"My God, Daren, it's like he's your twin! Separated at birth!"
"Cousin, actually."
"What?! You never mentioned a cousin." In fact, he'd always claimed to be the only person left in his family. Part of his lone wolf image.
"I only met him once, up on the mainland, when we were like 11."
"You're the same age?"
He shrugged. "Yeah."
"OK, now I get it. This is not the first time you saw that commercial, is it? That's why you shaved your head." She sounded too much like a prosecutor, not a loyal and supportive lover, softened her tone. "Well, you know what, you've got the perfect disguise, sweetie. You look exactly like... what's his name?"
"Virgil Root."
"Too bad you can't meet him, though," she said, thinking yup, that's who VR is all right. According to Daren's secret journal/confession she'd discovered aboard the yacht, written on the tell-tale pink stationery from when the boat was called Pet Shop, the policy he took out the night he won the Lotto said that if anything happened to him, the money went to Sonya. If something happened to her, it went to VR.
Sonya snuggled closer, wondering what kind of plot Daren had concocted this time, for his greed seemed to know no bounds and he seemed to have some bigger picture in his mind, when the radio crackled and they heard a familiar male voice with a Japanese accent: "Calling Pet Shop..."
It was Sushi Leclaire aboard Tuna Maru.
"Gotcha, Soosh," Daren replied. "Right on schedule."
"Please," Sushi said, and they could hear real desperation in his voice. "If you no come today, captain say he will throw all girls into sea. Me too! He must go fishing now."
"See you soon. Same place, same time."
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
