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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Day off
>> Maui
After hanging up with Lucien, Cruz MacKenzie dashed to a familiar liquor store on Dairy Road and picked up a copy of the competition. He hated giving those schmos even 50 cents, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. And there, splashed across the top of Page One, was a picture of Cruz in his BVDs hugging Jasmine in her lava-lava. The bold-face lead-in for the caption read: "Quakus interruptus."
Oh, clever.
Neither of them was identified by name. But it was obviously Cruz and Jasmine. They must have had a hell of a good laugh at the Gannett Gazette city desk when that one came in. The accompanying story quoted U.S. Geologic Survey officials saying that the quake, which measured 4.7 on the Richter Scale and opened a brand new fissure on Mauna Loa. Hot lava from the fissure now threatened a new subdivision.
Cruz was trying to work up an explanation for his old friend Biggie Kanaka, Jasmine's father, when he saw the story below the fold: An exclusive interview with Sampson Paik, son of the shark-chomped fisherman Steve Paik.
Not only had the bad guys exposed Cruz in his underwear, they also beat him with the story he'd called in last night, but which Garry had squelched.
Which probably explained why Garry was so polite when Cruz phoned. Garry is Roman Catholic and responds well to guilt.
"Glad you're OK," he said stiffly.
"I was going to interview Sampson Paik," Cruz said. "But if it's not an exclusive ... damn... besides, the family doesn't need to be doing constant interviews... anyway, now that I'm here, I don't know what the hell to do."
"Take the day off. You've been on nine in a row and I don't want to get the Guild PO'd. We'll see you tomorrow."
He very nearly sounded friendly. The Newspaper Guild is quite a strong union.
With most of the day to kill before meeting Lucien at Chez Paul -- and his waiter Sampson Paik -- Cruz was tempted to call Lucien back, cancel dinner and fly home to Honolulu and have dinner with Jasmine.
But if he flew back to Honolulu, he'd end up working. And he was on Maui and looking forward to dinner with Lucien. And he did have his golf clubs in the trunk of the rental car, and just enough time for a soul-clearing nine holes.
Cruz called Waiehu golf course. Justine, the long-time starter, said if he hustled his okole on over, she'd see what she could do about getting him out.
He did just that, and though he tried to visualize himself striping a high power fade down the middle of the first fairway, it was visions of Jasmine that danced in his head.
And would, he suspected, forever.
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
