My Kind of Town
Getting to know you
Still pointing the .22 pistol in the maid's face, still pinning her chest and arms down with one big leg, Mickey had cut away everything but her panties and started on that, sliding the big knife blade down the front of her cotton panties. Rosalita Resurreccion knew what he was going to do when he had her totally naked, and suddenly she knew what she must do. Filipinos may not be the biggest or the strongest people in the world, but there are no braver people. Filipinos fought off the Spanish, the Americans, the Japanese for their independence. It's a national trait, courage, the willingness to fight and die for your kin, your kumpadres, your country. Rosalita might die, but she would not die a coward. Death was better than being raped by this beast. At least then she would again be with her husband Jesus, the only man who had ever made love to her, and the only man who ever would.
>> Lily Ah Sun was sober enough now to walk without holding Quinn's hand. She certainly knew the path -- she designed it. But Quinn's big, strong hands gave her a sense of security, just like when they were kids holding hands at the zoo and the tiger roared and scared her. But Lily couldn't recall the touch of Quinn's hand making her heart race before.
They walked past the pool, landscaped to look like a jungle lagoon, and into a garden where flickering tiki torches showed the path through lush vegetation and flowers.
"Wow, this is like another world back here."
"That's the whole idea, Quinn."
The path followed a stream that turned suddenly into a little cove -- in the house. "The swimming pool goes into the house?" Quinn marveled. "Cool." He turned to Lily. "You've got quite a place."
"You're welcome here any time. I meant what I told Elizabeth. I hope she'll have a chance to get to know you better, because I hope the same thing for myself."
"I'd like that. I sure don't want to go another 21 years without seeing you."
Face to face in the shimmering light of a tiki torch, the sound of a stream running, the scent of night-blooming jasmine filling their noses, they looked into one another's eyes, and remembered the kiss they had shared just minutes ago at Maunalua Bay. Remembered the thrill and the joy. Remembered knowing that this feeling was exactly what they had each always wanted. Remembered that they were first cousins, and this was forbidden.
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 firstname.lastname@example.org