My Kind of Town

by Don Chapman

Monday, December 31, 2001

Gratefully ignored

>> Queen's Medical Center

Slumped in a chair blind with depression, Sheets Ah Sun suddenly sat upright, on full alert. "What's that?!"

His wife Grace felt it too, air moving as a very large something passed, creating eddies in its wake. Something, someone, was in the room. Grace reached for Sheets' hand, clutched it, and closed her eyes in whispered prayer.

When she opened her eyes, Grace saw a very tall, very brown, very naked woman leaning over Lance, whispering to him in Hawaiian, breathing on his face, touching her nose to his, kissing him briefly on the lips.

For the first time since his injury, Lance stirred, kind of twitched, and the sound from his lips was dry, raspy, indecipherable. But it was a sound! "Ho'ola," Grace said reverently. Her tutu had been right! The goddess of life was real! "Mahalo for blessing my son."

"Akua sent me," she said and touched her nose to Grace's, sharing her breath of life.

Ho'ola snapped her fingers in front of Sheets' face. He ignored her as if she wasn't there. She put her hands on her hips, tilted her head in a pouty way -- another one refused her help. But really, it might not matter. While Ho'ola was big in the medical field, her power held no sway in legal matters. And that's what this one was.

Grace blinked and Ho'ola was gone. As grateful as she was for the goddess' blessing for her and her son, she was just as frightened that her husband ignored Ho'ola.

>> Lily Ah Sun nearly gave herself whiplash turning around so fast. She stumbled down from the bed, lost her balance from standing up too fast and had to grab the bed to steady herself with one hand while adjusting her blouse with the other.

The nurse who had interrupted her and Quinn wasn't alone. There in the doorway, wearing his blue HPD uniform, his mouth at half-mast, was her Uncle Mits, Quinn's father. How long had he been there?

He wasn't letting on. "Good morning," he said. "How was your night, son?" Lily was grateful to be ignored as she pulled herself and the rest of her clothing back together. She'd worry about the lipstick later.

Quinn was telling his father and the nurse that he'd slept well, thanks to the painkiller he'd been given, but it sure gave him some incredible dreams, and he glanced over at her. Lily knew what Uncle Mits had seen, and she was in no mood to deal with him at the moment.

"I've gotta go see what's up with Lance," she said. "But I'll see you later, Quinn." Ignoring her uncle, she squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

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

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