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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Sigh of relief
Off the Big Island
Because this was supposed to be their final night aboard the Tuna Maru, Sushi Leclaire mentioned to the captain that he would like to give the crew a preview of what their precious cargo would be doing when they arrived in Hawaii. The girls had been rehearsing since the boat left Manila.
The captain, officers and crew gathered in the crew's mess while Sushi spoke to the dozen girls in the passageway outside. "Dance, darlings, that's all you have to do," he told them, and thought of a great Americanism. "Just move it and groove it." Sushi could practically smell the testosterone when he opened the door to the mess.
"Gentlemen," he said dramatically, "you are about to meet the hottest new stars of the Internet. But tonight, they perform live for you."
And then, as Tina Turner sang from a boom box about cruising in a pink Cadillac, Sushi one-by-one led 12 stark naked girls into the room, where they did indeed move it and groove it. The girls danced for two more songs, Shaggy's "O Carolina," and Rose Royce's "Car Wash" before Sushi bade the girls to leave. When they had, Sushi stood before the group of heavily breathing Japanese fishermen and gave them an address, www.gagababies.world. "The studio is all set up and waiting for us as soon as we get to Kona," he beamed.
The men all agreed that a few yen would be well worth it to see the girls on their computer screens.
And then Sushi led the captain out to the girls. It was time for his last payment for bringing the girls this far. It would be a balloon payment.
While the captain cavorted, Sushi climbed back up to the Tuna Maru's bridge, radioed the boat he knew as Pet Shop, which now bore another name, and the skipper he knew as Paul, who was now dead.
Alenuihaha Channel
Sailing back to Kona aboard the boat that now, according to the name he'd cleverly painted on the stern, turning it into a game of Wheel of Fortune, was called Wet Spot, Daren heard the urgency and growing frustration in the man's Asian-accented voice. "Where are you? We had a deal! Now what am I supposed to do with these girls?!"
He'd said the magic word.
Daren got on the radio then, for the first time in days spoke to someone other than himself or the two dead guys. "Roger, Tuna Maru, Pet Shop acknowledging."
Daren heard a huge sigh of relief. "Where are you?"
"We had, uh, a little problem aboard. I'm a day away, at least. Give me your coordinates."
Sushi got the ship's position from the navigator, repeated them.
Daren had the upper hand. "Might be two days. Let's stay in touch."
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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