My Kind of Town
>> Beretania Street Pardon me
Stopped for the light where Pali turns into Bishop, Myrtle Agena, driver of TheBus No. 688, wondered what was up with The Silent One. The woman -- she looked hapa and Myrtle guessed her age to be 30ish -- stayed on way past her usual stop, back on 4th Avenue. In her rearview mirror, Myrtle could see the woman was spending even more time than usual looking back, obviously agitated, and she kept patting her bulging, oversize backpack like it was a baby or something. She'd also noticed a green Barracuda following them from Kaimuki. But it had disappeared back at Punchbowl, in pursuit of handcuffed convicts who escaped an overturned police van.
The light changed and when Myrtle pressed the accelerator, she heard a pop and felt something give. Probably did something to the transmission when she'd stomped on the gas pedal and raced away from the van and its prisoners. Well, she was on her way back to the yard, ultimately. Hopefully old 688 would make it that far.
>> Capitol Grounds
"Laird!" Lily Ah Sun screamed across Punchbowl Street to her younger brother, but he kept running, chasing two of the escapees toward City Hall.
The roar of a car engine behind her diverted Lily's attention and she spun around, saw a familiar green Barracuda jumping the curb and racing across the Capitol lawn in pursuit of the other three escapees.
Even with wrists cuffed the three ran well, as desperate men will. But they were no match for HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes and his Barracuda's powerful 426 cubic-inch "hemi" engine. He was rapidly gaining on the trio, but suddenly had to veer to avoid smashing into the Liberty Bell replica. The car went into a slide across the grass, onto the concrete Capitol plaza -- directly toward the statue of Father Damien!
"Help me, Father, because I need it," Gomes the good Catholic boy prayed, spinning the wheel, gunning the engine.
Running for their lives toward the rotunda, the three escapees saw the pursuing car sliding for impact with a black statue and slowed to watch.
>> Laird Ah Sun was a runner -- it helped keep him sane during grad school at Stanford Business -- and jogged easily down Punchbowl Street, 20 yards behind two of the escapees. He followed as they turned left and ran onto City Hall grounds and practically ran over a tall haole guy in nerdy aviator glasses coming out the front.
"Eh, you da guy, eh?!" Moses said. "You work here!"
The tall man, noting their handcuffs, said he did.
"Yeah, I seen you on da news!" Abraham replied. "We need a pardon!"
The mayor waved his hand at the stucco building. "Join the crowd, buddy. Join the crowd."
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com