My Kind of Town

Don Chapman

Slumping tiger,
crouching girl

>> Kahala

It was normally about 3 1/2 minutes from the Olive Tree to the gated estate Fon Du shared with other so-called employees of the Bank of Lhasa's Honolulu office. This time he made it in under three, Bodhicita Guzman driving him crazy the whole way as she stroked his thigh. He was in such a heated rush, they forgot the Styrofoam containers of take-out lamb shank and fish souvlaki in the backseat of the black Mercedes. Fon Du had never in his 34 years felt such longing, such need, and he knew he could never be without this woman Bodhicita.

Who was wondering what the hell was in the vial Kamasami Khan gave her, which she'd emptied into Fon Du's wine barely 30 minutes ago. Khan said it was supposed to make her job "softer." Wrong-o.

Like a hound in heat, Fon Du practically bounded through the large home, barely acknowledging his brethren. He led Bodhicita into the master bedroom, closed the door and pulled her into his arms, kissed her deeply.

" I...I can't explain it," he panted. "I've never wanted anything as much as you ..."

He started to unbutton her blouse. "Whoa, Tiger."

He loved it when she called him that. Like Tiger Woods. Having seen the Internet photos, he'd put Bodhicita up against Mr. Woods' fiance any time.

"I thought you said you needed a massage tonight?"

"Yes! With the oil!"

She kneaded away the stress of the day in his neck and shoulders, using elbows, knees and other parts, driving him ever more crazy, whispering in his ear, "Just hold on, Tiger, it's gonna be sooo good."

It was then, with the Viagra fully kicking in, right in the middle of a full-body massage, the time-release sodium pentathol engaged itself in Fon Du's bloodstream.

"So how was the thing with the lama today?"

Suddenly he was a manic, talking two-headed monster, and Bodhicita was urging on both. The blessing of a shrine at the young lama's boyhood home had been a fiasco, he blurted. The new man, Yu Dip, posing as a monk, had been arrested after his pistol somehow flew into the air. Worse, the lama kicked Dip in the head, knocked him out. Very troubling, Buddhists reacting so aggressive. Worse, idiots on the diplomatic side forced the cancellation of the lama's visit to the Capitol.

"Fools! I had two men there, it was an easy shot."

But there would be other opportunities. The lama was scheduled to meet with Hawaii's religious leaders the next day. They would have a man there, "dressed in the robes and head wrap of a Muslim imam."

She rolled him over. Crouching, she started on his legs.

That's when the time-release muscle relaxant overpowered the Viagra.

"Uh oh, Tiger ..."

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


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