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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Big story
>> Kona
"Slight change of plans," Nick Ornellas said as Cruz MacKenzie tossed his bag in the back seat and the silver Jag pulled away from the curb. "But it's your lucky day -- you're on top of another big story."
Cruz cast Ornellas a doubtful glance. He subscribed to the David Brinkley school of journalism: News is what I say it is. And not some cowboy-up ex-cop turned insurance salesman. "So what's this 'big' story?"
"New lava flow just started up."
"So? This is the Big Island."
"On the Kona side."
"Oh." OK, so that's a big story. It had been more than 100 years since the last flows on the Kona side.
"One mans's big news is another's bad news," Ornellas added, shook his head.
"A bunch of homes and coffee fields are being threatened."
"Homes and fields whose owners bought a piece of the rock?"
"You got it, Toyota."
"Man, are you on a lucky streak or what?" First, Ornellas sold a life insurance policy to Daren Guy just after he won the state's first million-dollar Lotto and just before he was eaten by a shark. Then it turned out the beneficiary, Daren's fiancee Sonya Chan, appeared to be suffering from silicone poisoning. Plus, his company insured the missing yacht Pet Shop. Now Madame Pele was dancing again on the Kona side. "So what's the plan?"
"Got a chopper waiting."
Cruz thought of Pat Ohara, the late Maui coroner, waving from that fateful chopper, and suddenly wished he'd had a drink on the plane. Or two. And then he had a very different thought. Pele. The woman he longed to know more than any other.
A likeness of whose supine breasts had stirred him just minutes ago in the form of Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea as the jet winged across the Alenuihaha Channel. His stomach turned, in a good way, butterflies gone giddy, and he caught himself breathing semi-heavy. Maybe this would be the day he finally saw the volcano goddess.
>> Off the Big Island
"Uncle Mano," Sonya Chan said, cell phone in one hand, the wheel of the yacht Wet Spot in the other, "I ... I think I'm in trouble."
"I know, I'm close by."
"What? ... How? ..."
"Look behind you, bebbe."
And there on the horizon was a speck, so far off she couldn't tell what kind of vessel it was. But it was getting bigger, and soon she saw the unmistakable lines of Mano's Hale Kekai. And then he was overtaking the yacht, and they were easing off the throttles, and Sonya had never been so glad to see anyone since, well, since the old man who skippered this boat turned out to be Daren in disguise. And that hadn't turned out too well at all. Just look around.
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