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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Contradicting reality
>> Off the Big Island
Cruz MacKenzie awoke to the mellifluous sound of Mano Kekai chanting in Hawaiian as he stood at the edge of this remote lagoon. He heard Mano say his name, then continue in Hawaiian. At last, Mano reached his arms out toward the sea, palms turned down toward the water.
Stiff from a night of too little sleep on the sand, Cruz stood, stretched, yawned, surveyed the lava walls rising steeply from the beach.
Mano turned away from the sea. "Good morning, merry sunshine."
"Morning. I heard you say my name. What's that about?"
Mano picked up a mask and snorkel, held them out to him.
Cruz backed away from him and from the water. If sharks can really smell fear, Cruz was attracting them from the beach.
"It's not that I don't trust you, Mano. But no -- no way."
"I'll be with you."
"Don't I even get some coffee?"
"The time is right now."
By morning's early light, Cruz could see that the water was deep inside the shallow reef, at least 20 feet now at high tide probably. And while he couldn't see any fins, he knew they were out there.
"No way I'm intentionally swimming with sharks, Mano, not even relatives of yours." He remembered the ulua Mano had chopped into bite-sized morsels last night. "And especially no way if you're chumming."
"I'm not chumming. I'm bringing an offering."
"It works out the same."
"What happened last night? Mano helped you, right?"
That was such a contradiction of previous reality that Cruz still had a hard time believing a huge shark had given him a helpful little boost back into the Zodiac after he slipped and fell in the water. "That was one shark," he protested. "I saw at least a dozen fins last night."
Cruz thought of Steven Still's friend Uggums, the big tiger, and her babies. He also thought of the beast that had killed Mano's friend Daren Guy. But when Mano tossed the mask underhanded, Cruz caught it. He even followed Mano to the waterline. But he kept his toes dry.
"No fear," Mano said gently but firmly. "Only oneness. Only connection. Go with the mana. It's right."
Cruz took a deep breath. Water lapped on his toes and he jumped back. "Oneness," he said in a tight whisper, took a deep breath. "That's what happens when a shark eats you, right, oneness with the food chain? From fish food to fish poop. Talk about connected to nature!"
Mano chuckled. "There he is." The big fin was back. "Father is waiting for you."
"No doubt."
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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
