My Kind of Town
>> Queen's Medical Center Tears and fears
Where had the day gone? Dr. Laurie Tang needed to swim, needed the water. But when she wasn't looking darkness had fallen. That's what happens when you have back-to-back ER cases. You forget about time, the only thing that matters is doing your best for the patient, even when one of them turns out to have been driving your boyfriend's car, and she's drunk, loaded on ice, stark naked and her only words before slipping into a coma are, "Please save the baby."
Laurie again tried the number that HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes left for her and again got his recording. It could wait. The swim would also have to wait. Laurie was passionate about swimming and semi-fanatical about maintaining her petite shape, but she wasn't stupid. Stupid would include swimming in the ocean after dark.
So she would have to find another excuse to delay returning her mother's call. Like the detective her mom was asking about Donovan. The thing was, Laurie had more questions than both of them combined.
>> Keeaumoku Street
HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes made a detour past Cartwright Field. He wanted to see for himself the dented, scuffed railing where Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka's car had gone over. He wanted to see how far the car fell before landing on Cartwright Field. Imagining what it was like to be in the car made his stomach turn over.
He'd remember that feeling when he knocked on the door of Serena Kawainui, the woman who was driving the senator's car when it crashed and was now being treated at Queen's.
>> Kailua
Grace was still afterglowing from making love with her husband as she dialed the number that a woman from Queen's had left on the answering machine. She couldn't imagine why.
"Lin Matsuo, please ... This is Grace Ah Sun."
"Yes, thank you for returning my call," the ER social worker said. "Is Lance Ah Sun your son? I'm calling because Lance was involved in an accident and has been brought to the ER."
"Lance?" Her baby. "What happened? Is he alright?"
This was the toughest question. Lin Matsuo wanted to inform without alarming. "He is responding to treatment. But it would be best if you could come down. Is that possible?"
"Yes, of course."
Silent tears streaming down her cheeks, the worst of fears filling her heart, she raced back to the bedroom to wake her husband. Moments ago they had shared a moment of passion. Now they must share whatever terrible thing happened to their youngest son.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com