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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
It’s them!
>> Big Island
When Daren Guy and Sushi Leclaire at last spotted a yacht without sails rounding Pueo Point, they held their breath, startled by this new thing called hope. And when Daren knew that it was indeed Wet Spot and cried "Yes!
It's them!" he and Sushi jumped about and shouted, waved their arms and yelped as if they were being rescued off a desert island. At least, it seemed so at the time.
But now they directed their shouts and gestures toward the approaching boat, and could see Sonya at the wheel and Sushi's 12 Filipinas on deck waving back.
And Daren and Sushi -- who by twists of fate had ended up as unwilling partners and could hardly wait to be rid of each other so they could get on with plans that would make them each incredibly wealthy, but who had endured this awful waiting and dreading through the dark night together -- high-fived and hugged.
But just briefly, for each had plans.
Sushi wanted to get the 12 girls off the boat and into the rental van ASAP and before lava closed the road get them to the house above Kona where the living room was set up as a video production studio.
Daren could hardly wait for Sushi and the girls to leave so he could turn his attention to Sonya. While gathering firewood last night, he'd found a kiawe branch, four feet long, thick like a club, with plenty of sharp barbs at the business end. Nice. He needed some kind of help until he could get the spear guns and Sushi's Glock away from her.
And then, once Sonya was out of the way, he would sink Wet Spot and return to his old man of the sea costume until he could find his cousin Virgil Root, the TV outdoorsman who was shooting some shows in Hawaii. And then he would assume his cousin's identity, briefly at least, and become a ridiculously wealthy man.
The yacht was so close now that Daren and Sushi could hear the girls' babbling laughter and hellos across the water. Sonya, Daren noted, had a spear gun at her side as she steered the yacht into the bay and cut the engine. It took her and two of the Filipinas to lift the anchor and drop it over the back.
From the deck, looking at Daren and Sushi waving from the shore, Sonya's gaze went beyond them to where the streak of lava coming down the hill was closer now, the smoke from its orange edges thicker.
And then her eyes followed Daren and Sushi as they whirled around at the sound of a blue Jeep driving out of the kiawe jungle and onto the rocky point above Pele's Bath. Three men got out. Sonya recognized the bald one from TV.
So did Daren. Hey, cuz.
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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