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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Recalling the recall
>> Above Kahuku
Victor Primitivo mounted the big horse, slid his magnificent hunting rifle into a long leather holster attached to the saddle. Tex the stablemaster leaned in for a closer look.
The rifle's wood handle was fine-grained, burnished so deep you wanted to dive in. And then it was inlaid with gold in ancient Roman symbols. One of a kind.
"Beautiful workmanship," Tex said admiringly, then frowned. "Uh, Mr. Primitivo, you don't have one of the new pins with the P on it. Didn't you hear about Blazer's recall of the R-93s?"
If there was anything Victor Primitivo hated, it was being second-guessed, especially by an underling. "Of course. I had my guy check it."
My guy? Tex thought, biting his tongue. Who does this guy think he is, Mary Wells? Talkin' 'bout my guy ... Tex owned an R-93, minus the art work, and when Blazer announced the recall in August 2002, he'd shipped it back as directed, ASAP. Problem was, apparently the supplier of the pins tried to slip a cheaper model through, not the rust- and acid-resistant pins they were contracted to deliver.
The result, as had been sadly discovered, was that the trigger, having been pulled, would not return to its starting position. And so when it was cocked and ready to fire, "involuntary discharge" (as the announcement put it) could occur. Meaning the sucker could go off any old time. So Tex had Blazer's guys check it, and those guys replaced the old pin and sent the gun back with a new pin embossed with a P, for proof it's the real deal.
That's what Tex was thinking. What he said was "OK, Mr. Primitivo, I'm sure your guy knows his stuff."
He'd just stay behind Primitivo once the hunt started and keep his eyes on which way that rifle was pointed. "Good hunting, sir."
Seeing that each of the club's members was mounted up, Tets Nakajima called "Gentlemen, it's nearly time. As we begin, as always, let us honor these wonderful creatures we are about to hunt. We thank them for their spirit, for without them we cannot fulfill ourselves."
Whatever, Victor Primitivo thought. Let's get moving. His Shauny and the others had been given a more than generous head start.
Nakajima raised a shotgun, fired a blast into the air, and the hunt was on. Members of the club fanned out across the pasture, heading to the forested hills that rose beyond. Primitivo pointed his horse at the tallest Norfolk pine -- that's where Shauny and her two companions entered the forest. Clive the Aussie and Fariq the Saudi fell in beside him. They would be riding together, a team hunt devised to separate Shauny from the gay anti-war protester who was Clive's and the young Filipina who was Fariq's.
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