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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
The missing half
>> Maui
Safely back on the ground at Pili's at Maalaea Harbor, Cruz MacKenzie sat down with his laptop and a glass of chardonnay and wrote a new lead for his column.
"When Pat Ohara died in the second helicopter crash on Maui yesterday, the Maui County coroner was carrying half of a pair of nylon neon lime swimming shorts.
"They were accidentally discovered by a golfer at Waiehu Golf Course earlier in the day. Ohara believed that they were possibly the other half of the shorts that Daren Guy wore on the night he won the Lotto and lost his life.
"But his chopper crashed before Ohara could submit the shorts for testing. Initial investigation of the crash site did not locate any sign of the shorts."
"Melted down his golf clubs to an effin' puddle," is the way chopper pilot Tom Hauptman put it.
"You sure about this," Garry growled when Cruz phoned in the column. Good stories, even ones enterprised on your day off, never excited the city editor. Bad ones or late ones, however, always did. He'd obviously recovered from his bout with guilt.
"I was the golfer. And I saw the originals."
"OK. By the way, you got a message here to call somebody named Mano in Kona. He said it was urgent," Garry said, adding accusingly. "Sounded like he was calling from a bar."
Oh no, not that, really. "Funny, I'm sitting in one at the moment. Cheers!"
Garry swore, gave Cruz the number, swore again before hanging up.
Cruz knew the number by heart, dialed and a familiar voice answered: "Yacht Club, this is Don." He put Mano on the line.
"Bruddah, you need to get your okole back to Kona."
"My boss wants me back in Honolulu."
"I promise, you going get one story nobody else ever got, 'specially no "Sharks?"
"My sharks, bruddah. I'll teach you." He said this with both urgency and vagueness, which is a pretty good working definition of mysticism. "You got to come tomorrow, by noon, that's when I'm going."
"I'll be there, Mano, don't leave without me. Oh, and could you put Don back on, please?"
He did.
"When you see Sonya, Don, tell her I'd still like to talk with her."
"Haven't seen her since Daren's memorial service," the bartender said.
"Everybody's looking for her. Perry Brown. Nick Ornellas. You."
"They asked you about Sonya too?"
"Brown can't do anything until she signs a contract with him. Ornellas still hasn't been able to tell Sonya she's Daren's beneficiary."
And Cruz had questions to ask.
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
