My Kind of Town
My Kind of Town
>> Queen's Medical Center Just the truth
After giving blood that their cousin Quinn needed, Lily Ah Sun and her brother Laird could not have been in more different moods.
Lily, keeping her thoughts to herself, was concerned that Quinn had reopened the gunshot wound to the thigh but still had a glow about her. Giving blood had given her a tingle inside, knowing that she and Quinn would truly share the same blood, not just the metaphorical kind. This was way deeper than just swapping spit.
Laird, though, wanted to talk. "What the hell was that back in Lance's room?"
"You met Ho'ola. What a blessing."
"Blessing? Your little prank scared the living s--- out of me! And she's huge! Where'd you find her, the World Wrestling Federation?"
"We didn't find her, Laird, she came to us. In fact, it wasn't until Ho'ola visited Lance that he started to come out of the coma."
"I find that hard to believe."
"She managed to shut you up, though, didn't she?"
"I'm sure there's a logical explanation," Laird said as they arrived at the elevators.
"Yes, there is. The stories our tutuwahine told us back when we were little, they're true. Ho'ola is real."
The elevator opened, they stepped on, pushed the button for Lance's floor.
"More like someone you found at the Big and Tall Model Agency."
The air was suddenly filled with the aroma of eucalyptus and sea brine. Lily smiled. "Ho'ola is here."
"Sure, Lil."
That's when -- between floors -- a very brown, very large, very beautiful, very naked woman suddenly appeared before them. She had to hunch over to stand in the elevator.
"Oh my God," Laird whispered into her cleavage.
"Goddess," Lily replied. "Thank you for coming, Ho'ola."
"Why is it that this Hawaiian won't believe what he sees with his own eyes, yet willingly follows the teachings of a man he has never met?"
"B-b-because they make sense." And this vaporizing giant naked brown woman towering over him did not make any sense at all.
Ho'ola leaned down, breathed the breath of life across Laird's face. "You go your way. Seek your God, your truth. I'll be watching. When you smell eucalyptus and sea spray, you'll know I'm there."
The elevator stopped on Lance's floor. "And if you start preaching that nonsense to your brother about the sin of being gay, your voice will fail you again. It will fail you every time you fail to speak the truth."
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