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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
The safe kind
>> Honolulu
"Looks," Jasmine Kanaka whispered to Cruz MacKenzie, "like Tina got new boobs for Christmas. Poor thing, she used to be flat as the floor."
Now she was voluptuous, to say the least. Cruz couldn't help thinking of Sonya Chan, and of the women he'd seen earlier in the day who were suffering from silicone poisoning.
A dozen friends gathered around Tina, who showed off her new figure like a kid with a new tattoo. She was happy to talk about her breasts and obviously enjoyed being the center of attention. Later, when she sat down across from Jasmine to eat, Cruz couldn't help asking if the implants were silicone.
"No, the safe kind, saline," Tina said.
"Mm."
When Tina went to get another beer, Cruz whispered to Jasmine: "Saline is no safer than silicone," he said, quoting Dr. Miller. "There's a little valve in the implant bag that allows a fluid exchange between it and the body, which is also naturally saline. But the problem is that there's a bacteria that grows inside the implant and the only other place in the whole world it grows is in tropical sea caves. Women with saline implants have had this bacteria grow under their finger nails, on their skin and in their, ah, more private parts. Plus, the implant bag that holds the saline solution is made of silicone, which leeches into body tissue."
Jasmine looked up from a plate of poke. "Do you always make such appetizing dinner conversation?"
"Sorry, I went to talk this afternoon by a doctor who treats women with silicone poisoning."
"The real problem is the fascination our society has with big breasts," Jasmine said. "It's really sick."
"Tina, Amber wants some, too!" one of the women exclaimed.
"Who was your doctor?" a thin blonde woman said.
"Bo Fischer, he's great!" Tina said. "You know, Boobs By Bo. He did Lisa Gamble, too."
Lisa Gamble had been promoted from local TV education reporter to the prime-time news anchor slot barely a month after getting implants. Her "Q rating" went way up. So did her income.
The sound of a single-prop airplane grew gradually closer and jumped into everyone's consciousness when the engine cut out and sputtered. All eyes turned skyward as the engine started again and the small plane gained altitude above the parking lot. "Aloha Skydive" was painted in rainbow letters on the sides of the plane, which flew so low that you could see people in jump suits waiting at the open door and looking out of windows. Cruz wondered which one was Daren Guy's old friend Dillon Tanonaka. The plane banked away into the golden sunset toward Pearl Harbor.
"Kick-off is in 20 minutes," one of the guys announced.
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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