My Kind of Town
Don’t get excited
>> Honolulu Soap Co.
There was nothing in Sheets Ah Sun's office that could be called fancy or decorative, with the exception of a golf ball mounted on a trophy in the shape of the numeral 1. The ball was the Titleist with which he'd made a hole-in-one at Ala Wai. His only ace in all these years, 11th hole, July of '89.And he didn't even see it. Sheets skulled a 3-iron off the tee, and it rolled and rolled, right at the flag. The hole was set behind a little mound, so nobody in his foursome that included Henry Loui saw the ball roll into the hole. Les Murakami, the UH baseball legend, was playing in the group ahead, and his group had waved up Sheets and his group. Standing at the back of the green, arms crossed, Murakami's group saw the shot. But not one of them yelled or waved or whistled or twitched or gave any indication whatsoever they'd just seen a hole-in-one! They just putted out and walked to the next tee.
So when Sheets got to the green and didn't see the ball, he'd looked all over, cursing and muttering that the shot was heading right at the hole, but must have gone over the green. Finally one of the guys, Bob Lum from Lum's Lumber Yard, looked in the hole and shouted. Sheets didn't mind the unemotional way Murakami coached baseball, but no emotion at seeing Sheets hole-in-one?! Still, Sheets respected any local boy who made good, appreciated everything Coach Les did for Hawaii, and hoped he'd recover soon.
The clock radio on the desk was AM only. Sheets kept it tuned to the all-news station. That's how he learned that the senator's car had crashed off the Keeaumoku Overpass. He was about to call his wife, the senator's secretary, when news anchor Kai Maxwell said: "In other local news, the Board of Water Supply has discovered that a Waimanalo well is contaminated with a variety of chemicals, including mercury and used motor oil. Officials do not know the source of the chemicals, but are investigating."
Sheets swore under his breath. That's when his phone rang once and stopped. Then once again. Then twice. It was the secret code used by him and his brother Mits on the rare occasions they needed to talk. It had to be secret because 21 years ago they'd decided it would be best if they didn't associate publicly. That's when they concocted the story about a feud between the brothers Ah Sun.
The phone rang again. Sheets picked up the receiver and said: "What the hell's going on?"
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com