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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Through the maze
>> Kona
Daren Guy, dressed again in his old man of the sea costume, including white gloves, and Sushi Leclaire made it safely to the dock, but not the usual place near Mrs. Tamura's shop where Daren always tied up. Because leaving the dinghy behind was like leaving a clue. He didn't like it, but had no choice.
It was 4 a.m. when Daren tied the dinghy at the end of dock, near a 60-footer owned by a wealthy Canadian who visited once a year for the marlin tournament. Not so much traffic down there. Then they quietly hoofed it over to where Daren's old Jeep was parked.
That's when he realized he didn't have the keys.
After some whispered swearing heavy on self-flagellation, Daren realized that they may have actually lucked out.
"Actually, Soosh, better this way. Too many people know my wheels." The parts of the Jeep that weren't rusted were painted sky blue. "And they know I'm supposed to be dead. No sense attracting attention."
So they hurried over to the King Kamehameha Hotel to catch a cab to the airport.
"You're going to have to rent two vehicles," Daren said. "Once we get to Pele's Bath and meet Sonya and your girls, the yacht stays there. Permanent kine."
"Ahhhh ..."
"So Sonya and me need a way out." Well, one of them would anyway.
They were quiet on the short drive out to the airport, except when the groggy cabbie started to doze off. "Holy ----!" Daren blurted and startled the guy awake. Having only thousand-dollar bills on him, Daren let Sushi pay. He'd have to work on getting some change.
While Sushi, as instructed, rented a Jeep from Budget, Daren, wearing white shoes and slacks, a blue blazer and captain's cap over a white wig, waited across the street outside Hawaiian Air baggage claim. Sushi brought a green Jeep around, handed the keys top Daren, went back, rented a silver van from Avis, and soon was following Daren out of the airport, turning right, taking the highway that by-passed Kona.
The sky was turning light when they passed a sign that read "Captain Cook 8 mi." They stopped there at a little market and Sushi bought a cooler, ice, beer, water, poke and mochi crunch, then continued on through coffee country, and turned right on a rough paved road. They descended a steep hill, the road full of switchbacks. Close to sea level, they turned left onto a narrow track that wound through lava and kiawe, criss-crossing other tracks. It was indeed, as Sonya had said back on the yacht, a maze. The sun was up when at last they broke free of the kiawe and arrived at a rocky point that overlooked Pele's Bath.
"Now," Daren said, "we wait for Sonya and your girls."
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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