My Kind of Town
My Kind of Town
The visitor
>> Above Kahuku
The visitor came calling at the best time, the worst time. All depended how you looked at it.
Lono Oka'aina had tried everything to keep the Rockin' Pikake Ranch afloat. Between rising property taxes and the cost of feed, it had gotten to where it cost Lono more to raise cattle than he made when he sold them. And he'd sold off the last of them going on a year ago now. Sadly, he had to let two good paniolo go. No work to do, no kala to pay them.
But the bachelor rancher kept the seven horses. Lono was the horse-whisperer, and he spoke to them in Hawaiian, as his family always had. Lono without a horse wasn't Lono. He thought about opening a commercial stable, but that required money, and the bank wasn't comfortable loaning money to a guy who was so late on his land taxes.
Trying to figure a way to keep not only the horses, but keep the ranch in the family where it had been since King Kalakaua gave the land to his triple-great grandfather, he'd advertised trail rides, even invested in a Web site.
But no way he could compete with John Morgan down at Kualoa, not with everything he offered. Lono had gotten a few eco-tourists, but not enough to keep up with the taxes. And so recently he'd added guided hunts for wild boar to the Web site.
That's what brought the visitor. He'd called, asked a few questions, said he'd like to come out and see what there was to see. Lono, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, gave him directions.
He arrived in a black Tahoe, wore jeans and boots, a white western shirt and a gray Stetson. He was tall, lean, fit. Only a few lines around his eyes and salt-and-pepper hair gave away his age, 50ish. Introduced himself at Tets Nakajima. Lono welcomed him in, offered him coffee. He asked to see a map of the place.
"We got better than that," Lono said and led him to the dining area, where a framed blow-up of an aerial photo covered much of one wall. "Here's the property line," he said, tracing it with a calloused finger.
"How old is the photo?"
"Oh, 'bout 10 years. Not much has changed, except the cattle."
"Varied terrain," Nakajima said. "Wooded areas and open pasture." And not another house in sight. "I'd like to see the horses."
Lono led him out back to where his seven beauties were corralled. "Hele mai!" he called and the seven came trotting.
"Fabulous animals," Nakajima said, leaning on the fence. "I wish I had time for a ride today."
"Another day?"
"I hope so. It depends on whether or not you accept my offer."
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