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My Kind of Town

Don Chapman


Stupid questions


>> Ala Moana Hotel

Cruz MacKenzie knew that the shark story was gathering legs because even infamous morning radio newscaster Rip N. Read was there. The meeting room filled quickly with TV crews and their gear. Cruz was already seated in the front row when one of the general assignment kids the city editor sent over walked into the press conference, glanced at Cruz and gulped nervously.

Cruz knew that look. He got it as a cub reporter years before at the San Jose Mercury every time he was covering a game and legendary sports editor Dan Hruby showed up to write a column. Cruz thought about telling her -- was it was Emi or Evelyn? -- to relax, that he wasn't planning on writing a column.

But then again he might. In any event, reporters were a lot like wine grapes. They produced their best when subjected to a little stress.

The story she walked into turned out to be significant, but anti-climactic. Jonah Hancock walked to the podium, followed by seven members of the Governor's Shark Task Force. They sat on folding chairs behind Hancock.

After introducing each of them, Hancock began bluntly:

"We have concluded that tiger sharks were involved in each of the attacks in recent days. It is also our conclusion that the number of tiger sharks has grown in Hawaiian waters, particularly large tigers over 10 feet in length. Therefore, we are announcing a new policy that following an attack on humans, we will institute sharks hunts in that area. Call it an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."

The task force may have been a blue-ribbon panel, but it wasn't loaded with ocean experts. Cruz found it interesting that three members headed major hotel chains in the islands and another ran a Maui shopping center. Profit margins might sag if people thought they couldn't come to Hawaii and go to the beach in safety.

Cruz sat impatiently through a Q&A session, which proved there really is such a thing as a stupid question. Like the one from a cute young TV gal:

"Exactly how many sharks are there out there?"

"That's impossible to know," Hancock said, holding back exasperation.

And then Rip N. Read said with great self-importance: "When do you predict the next shark attack will occur?"

Hancock just shook his head. "You guess is as good as mine."

Hancock wanted this session to end as much as Cruz did. When at last the TV lights went out, he motioned for Cruz to join him in a side room. From his briefcase, he pulled Daren Guy's half-eaten neon nylon shorts in a zip-lock bag. Cruz knew in an instant.

"The half I found on Maui is a match. I'd bet big money on it."

"That's saying something for a journalist."



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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