My Kind of Town
Don Chapman
>> North Shore The best beer ever
In a remote part of the Rockin' Pikake Ranch high above Kahuku, Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka was gratefully enjoying the best damn beer he'd ever tasted. So what if it was warm, it was the first liquid he'd had in 24 hours, and it was gooood. And the beer wasn't really warm -- somewhat below room temperature, because this little cave he'd just discovered below a rock outcrop never saw the sun. Besides five cases of Bud cans, the senator found a stockpile of what appeared to be homemade jerky in sealed plastic, various canned goods, bottled water and a battery-powered Coleman lantern.
Grabbing another beer and a bag of jerky, the senator stepped outside. Darkness had fallen quickly. Above, brilliant stars were popping out. Since he didn't believe in an Almighty he thanked his lucky stars. Down the hill a mile or more the glow of houselights illuminated the smoke of a barbecue rising above the treetops. That should have made him feel better. People, civilization, phones and a shower. But he was a wanted man. A hunted man.
The senator stayed where he was.
Down at the ranch house, members of the exclusive, international hunt club that had rented the ranch for two weeks wandered outside with their cocktails. Their chef had porterhouses, salmon and veggies on the grill, and kiawe smoke swirled. He signaled it would be 15 minutes until dinner.
"Why don't we go check out the fine creatures we'll be releasing for the hunt tomorrow?" said Tets Nakajima, one of two Japanese nationals here and the one who had arranged with the owner to rent the ranch. "We have some exceptional species this time."
The men clanked their glasses together in toasts.
"I think you'll be especially impressed," Nakajima added, "with Victor's contribution."
Victor Primitivo smiled with unconcealed pride, tapped his chest.
"You're claiming exclusive rights, then?" the Aussie said.
"Indeed I am, Clive."
As darkness fell on the parking lot at Haleiwa Joe's in Haleiwa, Lono Oka'aina remembered that he'd planned to be back at the Rockin' Pikake tonight, in a secret place, to see what kind of exotic species the hunt club that was renting the ranch would be releasing. But at the moment his old classmate Raydean Gonsalves was kissing his cheek. The recently spurned wife's lips just brushed the bachelor rancher's, whispering an invitation for a nightcap at her place. Lono had nearly forgotten how good a woman can feel. And smell. The ranch and the exotic species could wait. He'd been to the zoo in Waikiki before. How much more exotic could it get?
"Sounds good to me," Lono said and headed in the opposite direction from the ranch, following Raydean in his Durango to her home in Waialua.
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