My Kind of Town
>> Queen's Medical Center The Honolulu Soap Co.:
Sunday digestWhew, Lily Ah Sun thought to herself when Nurse Nina Ramones told her that Lily's Uncle Mits had just left the floor. "How's Quinn?"
"Very good," Nina replied.
And he's about to get even better, Nina thought as Lily started for Quinn's room. The word had gotten around the floor in record time when another nurse had walked in on this woman and Quinn, kissing and groping, clothing askew.
The nurse further reported that the patient's father also witnessed the scene, and overhearing the father make a reference about his cousin. Nina was sickened by the actions of patient Quinn Ah Sun's cousin. But Nina had been there delivering meds when they bathed Quinn. Newly divorced, she was also jealous of his cousin.
>> One of the driving forces in Quinn's life was making his Pop proud. And he'd never in his life really gone against his father's wishes. Sure, there were a few teenage moments of flexing his independence, but Quinn was an apple that had fallen close to the tree. Heck, he was proud of his Pop, wanted to be like him. That's why Quinn was a cop.
But there was something about his father that was troubling Quinn. What was so terrible that he and his brother quit speaking? What had caused them to tear the family apart, keeping Quinn and his cousin Lily apart for 21 years? Quinn vowed to find out.
>> When HPD Sgt. Mits Ah Sun stepped onto the elevator after visiting his son Quinn, he smelled the aroma of eucalyptus and ginger and sea brine.
And it hit Mits that he ought to visit his nephew Lance, who lay in a coma in the ICU. He'd never seen Lance. Now 20, he was born after Mits and his brother Sheets quit talking following that night in Waimanalo. It was a decision designed to protect them and their families from the truth. At the time, in their panic and youth, a feud seemed to give them a cover. The false feud had been hard on both brothers. Born just 14 months apart, they'd grown up close. And it was because Mits had followed their grandfather's admonitions to "do anything for your family" that led to that night in Waimanalo, and thus their separation. Surely, Mits thought, just a quick hello couldn't do anything to free the secret the brothers had carried for 21 years.
>> Lily expected Quinn to be sleeping, so she didn't bother knocking on his door. And what she saw when she opened it softly, well ... Any other woman in the world and Lily would have thrown something at her!
But Lily knew the tall, brown, naked woman leaning over Quinn. And she knew the scent of eucalyptus and ginger and sea brine that filled the room.
Lily watched with a knowing smile until the woman stood up.
"So I see, Quinn," Lily said softly, "that you've met Ho'ola."
Quinn jumped at the sound of her voice, a look of panic spreading over his face. He'd never been so busted in his whole life!
"Actually, I hadn't introduced myself yet," the goddess of life said breathlessly.
"It's OK, Quinn," Lily said, kissing his cheek. "This is Ho'ola, goddess of life. Rescuer, preserver, healer."
"What?" he said shakily, his reality seriously rattled.
"It's true," Ho'ola said, her voice ringing like sacred music. She took Lily's hand in one of her big but graceful hands, Quinn's in the other, shared her breath of life with the cousins. "You have my blessings."
Ho'ola brought their hands together, turned to leave, stopped at the door.
"But, Lily, remember what I told you."
Lily nodded - rather sadly, Quinn thought.
"What did she tell you?" he said when Ho'ola was gone.
"Let's worry about it later," she sighed, pressing her face into his neck. "I'm just so glad that you're OK!"
>> Mits lifted his hand to knock on the door, took a deep breath. Twenty-one years since he'd seen his older brother Sheets and his wife Grace. But now that their sons were both hospitalized here at Queen's, it seemed like an omen. Mits believed in omens, but the trick, he knew, is not in recognizing them, but in understanding their meaning and the direction in which they point you.
So far it had pointed him here to the ICU, where his hand hung in mid-air, not quite ready to knock on the room door of his nephew Lance. And not quite ready to risk reconciliation.
But if not now, then when? Yes, this omen had pointed him here. If it wasn't time to end the feud, they could at least call a cease-fire. Mits knocked on the door tentatively once, then a little harder, heard "Come in." Grace's voice - she's still Sheets' spokesman, Mits thought. He took a deep breath, opened the door. And what he saw made his heart sink.
It wasn't his nephew Lance with wires and tubes running into and out of him that was so disturbing. It was his brother slumped in a chair, so lost in misery that he didn't notice the brother he hadn't seen in 21 years coming through the door.
"Oh, Mits!" Grace cried, hugging him. "Thank you for coming."
"It's all over, Mits," Sheets blurted. Grace misunderstood. "No, Daddy, Lance is better! He responds when I talk to him!"
Sheets ignored her, stood up. "We need to talk," he said and ushered Mits out the door.
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