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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
The right thing
>> Kona
Hotel management finally let everyone back into their rooms at 4:30 a.m., two hours after the quake.
The hotel phones weren't working, so Jasmine used her cell to phone Hawaiian Airlines: "I'm calling in quaked."
Didn't matter. No flights were coming into or out of Kona until a new crack in the runway could be repaired. A bus would be taking them to the Hilo airport later. So they pulled the blackout curtain and went back to bed.
Cruz was awakened two hours later when Jasmine nuzzled her head onto his shoulder. "God, you're good."
"Jasmine, we didn't do anything last night."
"I know that much. No, you're just so good -- good to be with, good to me." She kissed him on the lips.
"Errngh ... Wait, morning breath!"
"So." She kissed him long and deep and again he let her. She came up for air and smiled. "Think about it."
He quickly stood up. "You want the first shower? No? OK, I will."
"I mean it, Cruz," she called. "Think how it could be, between us."
"I'm almost afraid to." He turned on the shower.
"Don't be a wuss."
"I'm not!"
"Prove it!"
"OK." He stepped into the spray. "There's no hot water! Anngh!"
Later at the Hilo airport, the line was long. Cruz and Jasmine shuffled along in silence, sharing quick glances until they reached the check-in counter. "Where to?" the agent said.
"Kahului," Cruz said. "No reservation." He checked a suitcase and his golf clubs. Jasmine showed her airline ID, got a boarding pass for Honolulu.
"Maui?" she said as they walked toward the gates, sounding disappointed. "I thought maybe we'd have dinner tonight and ..."
"It's this shark thing."
"When don't you work?"
"A columnist is kind of like a doctor -- never really off duty -- except I get paid a lot less."
She considered this a moment, then nodded. "Can I call you?"
A voice announced his flight was ready for boarding. "Sure. Don't know where I'll be, though."
"Then call me."
"I don't know when." Time apart would be better for both of them, he figured. She'd have plenty of young guys calling her once the word got around she was single again, and realize he was too old for her.
She scribbled a couple of numbers on a page in his notebook and hugged him.
Cruz walked through the gate, turned to catch one last glimpse of Jasmine. She smiled through tears, blew him a kiss. Yup, he'd done the right thing. But he wished he hadn't.
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
