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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Mano’s story
>>Kona
Mano Kekai was a tough guy. He'd surfed big waves, battled 1,000-pound marlins, weathered rough seas in small boats, had a destroyer, the USS Pringle, shot out from under him by a Japanese sub. But being reminded of his responsibility for another man's death, especially a young friend gloriously giddy with newfound wealth, went beyond those challenges. The mention of Daren Guy's name hit him in the gut like bad fish.
With uncommon grace, another Bud and fresh bucket glass of ice appeared from bartender Don Dzuraski.
"I tried to tell him," Mano said, focusing on the foam as he poured. "But the dumb haole wouldn't listen. I was working on the boat and I see Daren taking off his shoes and writing a note. I tell him: 'Eh, whatchu doing?' 'Oh, just leaving a note,' he says, 'for Sonya, so she knows. She was gonna catch a ride, but she can take the launch. I'm gonna swim.'
"Like hell, I tell him, that's over a quarter mile and you're drunk. He tried to argue with me, but I wouldn't let him. So we get in my Zodiac. I take him out to his boat. We're almost there and he just jumps in the water. I say 'Eh!' I'm yelling, spin the boat around. Daren was just laughing: 'It's okay, Mano, I need to clear my head! Thanks!' So I let him go. He's a good swimmer, eh. It wasn't only but 30 yards or less."
Cruz finished the wine with one gulp. "It's not your fault."
Don backed him up. "Daren was determined."
"But if I'd at least followed him..."
He had a point.
Mano sipped his beer. Cruz looked into his empty glass. Doing what he does best, Don broke the silence: "Mano, tell Cruz about when you guys bought the Lotto ticket at 7-11."
The way this was going, Cruz was going to owe Don big-time. He was practically writing his column.
"I told him like I always do," Mano said, looking up from his drink with a half smile. "This is a quote, bruddah: 'Don't waste no money on no Lotto. Put that money into your boat.' That's what I told him."
"It's only a dollar," Don said. He liked Lotto.
"That's exactly what Daren said. But it adds up. Boat needs a lot of attention."
Mano finished his beer, stood up. "Nice to meet you, Cruz MacKenzie. I gotta go."
"Let me get that, Mano," Cruz said, handing Don cash for both of their tabs.
"Uh, and you think you could run me out to Daren's boat? Sonya is an old friend, I'd like to pay my respects."
"Shoots," he said, turning it into two syllables. They walked outside and found that when they weren't looking night had fallen.
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com