|
My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Twin fins
>> Waikiki
"Thanks for the break from work," Cruz MacKenzie said as he and Jasmine Kekai walked along Queen's Beach. "I needed it."
Palm fronds rustled in the breeze overhead. The sea turned dark with the sky and the lights of Waikiki's hotels twinkled across the small bay. A hundred yards out, a dozen surfers waited for the last wave of the day. Jasmine swerved close and their hands brushed and fingers reached and entwined. They walked in silence, hearts and imaginations racing.
"Omigod!" Cruz exclaimed and dropped Jasmine's hand and ran a few steps down the beach. "Do you see it, right behind that couple."
"Must be honeymooners."
A couple kissed passionately in chest-deep water just 20 yards from shore, creating some white-water turbulence below.
"No, about 10 yards beyond them! See? It's a fin!"
Jasmine squinted. "I can't see it."
"Hey!" Cruz shouted at the couple. "Get out of the water! Now! Hurry, there's a shark right behind you!"
She screamed and he cursed and they flailed at the water in their panicked rush and fell in over their heads. Against his better judgment, Cruz ran out into the surf and helped them to their feet and to the beach. They were in their early 30s and fit, which was obvious because both were mostly undressed.
"Damn!" the man breathed heavily, pulling his swim trunks up from around his knees. "Where's the shark?"
"There!"
"There's two fins!" He put his arm around his wife and pulled her close. She adjusted her bikini bottom and then, safe in his arms, began to tremble.
"Cruz." Jasmine said it tentatively, almost as a question. She walked into the water.
"Jasmine, don't!"
She reached out and grabbed one of the fins and held up an upside-down surfboard with twin fins. "Nice board, an old Mark Foo design."
She giggled.
"You son of a bitch!" the man said to Cruz. "Let's get dry," he said to his wife and they stomped off.
"You're right. I'm sorry, buddy. Really," Cruz called after them. And then to Jasmine: "You're right too, I've got to get away from this story."
"Cruz!" Jasmine screamed and ran out of the water with the board. "Look!"
The front of the board had been chomped off cleanly. The semi-circular bite looked as if it had been cut by giant pinking shears.
Cruz swore under his breath. This story would not leave him alone.
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
