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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Boobs for Christmas
>> Honolulu
Smoke from a thousand barbecues drifted across the Aloha Stadium parking lot among all manner of tents and tarps, banners and awnings. The encampment of University of Hawaii Rainbow Warrior football fans looked like something out of "The Ten Commandments" -- a gathering of the tribes. Though most were dressed in ritual green, white and black, a few anachronists wore rainbows.
Across the lot, the sun dipped toward Pearl Harbor as Cruz MacKenzie and Jasmine Kanaka pulled into a parking space near Pole 11. Just another aluminum power pole in the vast macadam lot, it was the hallowed regular meeting place for Jasmine's friends on autumn Saturday afternoons, largely because it had the great benefit of being near four porta-shi-shis, an important factor when you start partying three plus hours before kick-off.
At least 20 people in their mid-20s were already there when Cruz and Jasmine arrived. Alt-rock blared from speakers that provided background music for roughly half the parking lot. A young man with hapa-haole good looks and surfer muscles stood in the back of a pickup truck tending a keg of beer.
"That looks like the guy who looked like Jason," Cruz said, lifting two beach chairs from the back of the Z.
"Oh no!" Jasmine shuddered. "It is him. Listen we don't have to stay."
"Yes we do. I brought steaks, but you said not to bother with charcoal and the grill because they'd have some. Unless you like steak tartar."
Jasmine noticed Jason noticing her and Cruz. She avoided him for as long as possible, introducing Cruz to other friends as they set up cooler, chairs and table. But she couldn't avoid Jason all night. He was, after all, in charge of the keg.
"Hey, Jasmine!" Jason said, jumped down from the back of the truck and tried to kiss Jasmine on the cheek.
She took one step back and gave him a look that would have stopped a bear.
"Hi," she said, her voice icy. "Cruz, this is Jason Malo. Jason, meet Cruz MacKenzie."
"You're her uncle, right?" Jason said, handed Cruz a cup of beer.
"Not any more," Jasmine said cooly.
Cruz blushed. Jason frowned, not quite getting it yet. An uncomfortable moment ended when a female voice behind them shrieked: "Tina, my God, look at you!"
All eyes turned as a petite Japanese woman with rather immense breasts got out of her car.
"Jeemaneezus!" Jason whispered as Tina, wearing a glossy white Spandex body suit over green and white striped shorts, turned sideways.
"Looks," Jasmine whispered to Cruz, "like Tina got new boobs for Christmas."
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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