My Kind of Town

by Don Chapman

Tuesday, April 3, 2001

Chain reaction

>>Cartwright Field

HPD solo bike Officer Quinn Ah Sun heard the ambulance siren approaching from Queen's as a crowd began to gather around Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop Kamaka's car. The senator took great pride in driving his own car. It was part of his image as a man of the people.

And now his car was upside down on the first base line. According to several witnesses Quinn had questioned, the senator's car was going makai on Keeaumoku at a high rate of speed, swerved left, swerved right, then hard left, crossed over the center line and without ever hitting the brakes went up and over the railing, landing on the nose, rolling over and coming to rest on its roof halfway down the first base line.

What would that do to the senator's image one year before his expected run for governor?

>>Honolulu Soap Co.

She'd just met the cutest guy and would provide details later at the club, Lily told her friend Shawny just before they hung up. The main detail was that the cutest guy just happened to be her long-lost cousin Quinn. And, Lily kept reminding herself, you're not supposed to have romantic longings for your first-cousin. It's not quite incest, but definitely taboo. Not to mention just plain weird. The problem was, before Lily knew the young motorcycle cop was her long-lost cousin Quinn, he had already affected her in a way that no man ever had. What awful irony. You finally find Mr. Touch-Your-Soul and he turns out to be your damn cousin! Not for the first time, Lily was glad to come to work because it got her mind off her personal life.

>>37,000 feet

As the Hawaiian Air DC-10 from San Francisco began its descent to Honolulu, Chuck Ryan worked on the HVCB/ quarantine form. He was truthful about everything except his age, business, home zip code, number of people traveling with him and purpose of the trip.

It was his line of work that made him a liar. A life of fiction was part of the job description. Telling the truth could get you killed. And not getting killed was one of his goals in life.

>>H-1, town-bound

It started simply. One man, retired from the phone company. One tee time at Fort Shafter with his regular foursome. One cherry '72 Mustang. One massive heart attack. And coming down the Pualoa on ramp at 50 mph Mr. Donald Chock was suddenly dead.

The cool car with the dead man driving drifted a bit to the right, but then just before the Ceridian offices Mr. Chock slumped forward against the left side of the steering wheel, and his car veered 90-degrees left across three lanes of traffic.

Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin.
He can be emailed at

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