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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Fully vested lama
» Liliha
From the shouts and cheers and screams that erupted from the swelling crowd in the street, you'd have thought John and George just came back from the dead for a Beatles reunion concert. Instead, it was the first reincarnate of Lama Jey Tsong Khapa stepping outside onto the porch of his parents' home, bowing to the crowd with fingertips pressed together and touching his nose, then smiling and waving.
In the small front yard, surrounding the soon-to-be-dedicated shrine that was now hidden beneath palm fronds, the monk Lawang, one of the young lama's mentors, had set up an altar covered in bright silks where incense burned in the hands of golden, bejeweled statuettes of Buddha bedecked in ginger-maile lei.
Rimpoche Rimshot, the young lama's primary mentor, led him, his parents and brother down the steps, and 200 monks in mendicant robes began to chant.
Among them, Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka mostly lip-synched along, and noticed that the "monk" who seemed to be packing a piece was not even bothering to fake the words. He would stay close, but behind, shielded from the eyes of Sherlock Gomes.
HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes, watching from the street with solo bike Officer Quinn Ah Sun, also noted the hard type in monk's attire was not chanting with his brethren.
He noted too that the three hard types who'd identified themselves as Chinese bankers with the Bank of Lhasa had not joined the cheering and seemed, if anything, tightly wound, ready to spring.
Gomes further noted that if there were a plot against the young lama, HPD was undermanned, just a couple of officers for crowd and traffic control, himself, and Quinn and three other solo bikers. The only security the Tibetan Buddhists provided the lama was four non-violent monks, two of whom were in their 60s or older. Fortunately, Gomes had asked Quinn to call in a request for some quiet muscle, ASAP. Quinn had also passed the word to his uniformed colleagues to watch the guys in gray suit, tan suit and green aloha shirt. The bogus monk was Quinn's.
"Save my place," Gomes said to Quinn, flashed his badge to the young monk guarding the gate to the yard and joined the small group gathering around the shrine. Anything happened, Gomes was covering the young lama. Too bad he hadn't thought to put on his bullet-proof vest. Too late now.
Meanwhile, Michael Tenzin-Campbell, the lama's stunt double, was glad Kamasami Khan insisted he wear a vest beneath the flowing gold and crimson robes. "It'll take a head shot," Khan had said. That was good to know.
And then Rimpoche Rimshot was introducing members of Kagyu Thegchen Ling, the Tibetan Buddhist center in Nuuanu, and City Council Chair Donovan Dela Cruz, and the dedication ceremony was beginning.
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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