My Kind of Town
>> Queen's Medical Center Giving up ground
HPD Sgt. Mits Ah Sun, caught in an ambush of truth by his son Quinn and niece Lily, was fighting back.
And he had to act quick. Lily planned to revisit the State Library newspaper archives and reproduce her lost research on the Ah Suns.
"No sense digging up ancient history," Mits said, continuing the argument. "What's to gain?"
"Ancient history?!" Quinn said. "Only since Lily and I were born 27 years ago."
Now the only fight-back tactic left to Mits was a dangerous one, loaded with heavy backfire-in-your-face potential. He was willing to give up ground.
"OK, so you kids are back together, you're speaking," he said in his best uncle/dad tone of voice. "You know, it's not such a bad thing. Maybe it's time already to, you know, let the by-gones be by-gones. Maybe my brother and me ..." He stopped, shook his head. His voice cracked when he added, "So many years gone by."
Lily and Quinn could see that the family feud had taken its toll on Mits, the younger brother. Mits and Sheets Ah Sun and their families were so close that Lily and Quinn, born just a month apart, grew up not just as cousins but as neighbors and best friends. Then one day when they were 6 everything changed.
"You and my father speaking?" Lily said. "That would be nice."
"But I still want to know why you and Uncle Sheets quit talking," Quinn said. "Something doesn't make sense. And I want to know the truth about Bobo."
"Yeah," Lily said. "How come we never heard his name mentioned?"
MIts had given up all the ground he could. It ended at Bobo.
"Like I told you before, just a cousin. We weren't that close."
"I found out he worked on cruise boats," Lily said, "as an entertainer."
"That's right." Mits paused. "Still does as far as I know."
"Could be," Lily said, suddenly hit with a new idea. "I only researched up through 1981. The last mention of him was an item in Donnelly's column, a postcard from Bobo with Mark Twain's quote about his demise being greatly exaggerated."
"Where is he now?" Quinn said.
"Good question." No it wasn't.
"Maybe Donnelly knows," Quinn said.
"Couldn't hurt to ask," Lily said.
Yes it could. But there was nothing Mits could do about it.
"I'll let you know what he says," Lily said, leaned down, kissed Quinn's forehead. "See ya."
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