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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Lady in red
>> Big Island
The chopper carrying Cruz MacKenzie and Nick Ornellas followed the black streak of fresh lava from it's source, a new pu'u at 3,000 feet. The orange leading edge of the lava had entered a kiawe jungle and was tracking toward Pele's Bath, and the dry kiawe ignited and flamed. And as he looked down, Cruz saw a lady in red dancing seductively at the head of the lava. He'd dreamed of seeing the volcano goddess. Perhaps they would also be meeting soon ... he hoped.
"Look at that woman!"
"Where?"
"There! In the lava!"
"What've you been smoking?" Ornellas said. "Ain't no lady there."
If Ornellas couldn't see her, was Pele revealing herself to him alone?
"I don't see nothin'," the pilot said.
"But I think you're right about the boat," Ornellas said. "That sure looks like it could be Pet Shop down there."
They flew ahead of the lava, Cruz looking over his shoulder at the woman who attracted him as no other ever had, or would.
"Wow, what a beautiful place," Ornellas said. Beyond the kiawe jungle was a black lava point and a rough, crushed lava parking area where two Jeeps and a van were parked. Below that was the natural hot springs known as Pele's Bath. Beyond that was a crescent of white sand and the loveliest little bay with turquoise water crystal clear. A yacht anchored 40 yards offshore. On the beach, an Oriental male leading a bunch of brown-skinned women passed a Caucasian male. The two males paused, shook hands briefly. At the shoreline, an Oriental woman in a silver bikini stood in ankle-deep water beside a small Zodiac, spear gun at her side.
"I sure see that lady," Ornellas said.
"Jeez, we got three bodies down over here," the pilot said. He hovered over the scene, where three bodies lay unconscious behind a blue Jeep, red blood spreading across the black rock.
"Let's check out the boat," Ornellas said.
As the chopper swooped over the blue sea, Cruz could see fish swimming. Circling near the yacht was a shark, at least 14 feet long. Mano the shark? If so, Cruz was having a pretty good day, god- and goddess-wise.
"Bingo!" Ornellas exclaimed. "Wet Spot! The mystery boat!"
"Can you get a little lower?" Cruz asked the pilot. "Like real close so I can get a look at the name?"
The pilot hovered just off the water. "Don't know what it was before, but somebody changed the name," he said.
"Pet Shop," Cruz said. "Mystery solved, kind of."
"What the hell's going on over there?" Ornellas said. At the water's edge, the brown-skinned females swarmed the Caucasian male with kicks and punches.
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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