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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Give and take
>> Kona
Sonya Chan wore a black leather mini-skirt and matching jacket over a black lace body suit, and black spike heels with silver toe and heel caps. Cruz had forgotten how many black outfits Sonya owned, and how good she looked in every one of them.
"You look like an old dock hand, Cruz!"
"These," he said, holding them up, "are workman's hands."
"No, they're not, but that's what I like about them."
Good line, but she said it wearily. With utter honesty she added: "Long day."
It showed. They walked along the dock.
"I've been looking for you. We need to talk, for the story."
"Tomorrow, Cruz. I'm just ... it's just that ..."
It could wait. Tomorrow's column was filed. They could talk in the morning for the following day's paper. "Sure," he said. "I understand. Get some rest. How about 10 o'clock. Breakfast at Drysdale's?"
"The memorial service is at 10."
"Memorial ser ... for Daren? This is the first I've heard about it."
"It was Mrs. Tamura's idea. She's just now spreading the news, since the boys are back."
"Before the service then, say 8:30ish?"
"Sure."
Sonya took off her heels and stepped gracefully into the dinghy. She took off her jacket and pulled the starter cord. It sputtered, but fired to life on the second try.
"Could you get that line for me, sailor?" She managed a vague smile. Cruz untied the rope.
"By the way, I tracked down Daren's cousin up in Oregon. He does a hunting and fishing show on TV and he's going to be over here next week."
"Cousin?"
"Never heard of him."
"You will." Cruz tossed the rope into the boat and pushed it off with one foot.
"Make it 9, OK?" She waved with one hand, pulled the throttle with the other and the little boat putted away from the dock against the tide of incoming fishing boats, one lonely light going its own tortured way in the face of mass gladness. The fleet was coming in to celebrate what the sea had given. Sonya was going out to cry for what it had taken.
It wasn't until Sonya was out of earshot that Cruz realized that he'd forgotten to tell her abut Daren's insurance policy.
He also realized that he would always be in love with Sonya, even if she loved a dead man.
See the Columnists section for some past articles.
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com
