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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Calling the lama back
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Quinn and Lily Ah Sun were up early, gulped a cup of Italian roast that Rosalita had waiting, and went out for a run. They did three miles through the neighborhood, sharing the cool quiet of the morning in the shadow of Koko Head. Quinn loved being able to talk with Lily about anything, but also that they were so close sometimes a simple glance said it all.
Back home, they headed for the big double shower, scrubbed one another's backs, both thinking "let's make love" when the phone rang.
"Rosalita will get it," Lily said, started soaping Quinn's muscular chest.
He reciprocated. "God bless her. Buddha too."
Later, after another shower, Rosalita had a breakfast of fruit and oatmeal waiting.
"You had a call, Mr. Quinn," she said. "A young man, he said it was about a motorcycle ride."
"Your new friend really wants to get on that bike," Lily smiled. "Not what I'd expect from a holy man."
"He's a lama, but hey, he's 18."
"A holy man? That explains it!" Rosalita said. "Just talking with him for a few seconds, I felt so ... uplifted."
"Join the crowd," Quinn said, "join the crowd."
She handed him a yellow Post-it with a 247- phone number written on it
"What?! This is a Kaneohe number! He's supposed to be in Waikiki!"
"I asked him to repeat it," Rosalita said. "It's the right number."
"No, Rosalita, I'm not doubting you." They had a special bond, Lily's new husband and her friend/housekeeper, Rosalita Resurreccion, after Quinn stopped that creep from raping her at knifepoint and took a .22 slug to the thigh. Like Lily, Quinn considered her as much friend as employee, and regarded Rosalita's young daughter Elizabeth as a niece.
"No, not at all," he reassured her. "But this doesn't make sense at all. How the ..."
Rosalita handed him the cordless phone, he dialed the number, soon heard a deep male voice with a local accent saying "H'lo."
"This is Quinn Ah Sun, returning a call ..." Cop instincts kicking in, he didn't want to say the lama's name. "It's about a motorcycle."
"Motorcycle?" the voice said, as much to Quinn as to someone else in his company.
"Yes!" Quinn heard the delightful ring of the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa's voice in the background. Then, clearer, "Thank you for calling me back, officer." In the background, the first voice, "Officer?"
"As one of the guys who's supposed to be on your security detail when you go out, your holiness, mind if I ask how you got to Kaneohe?"
"I will gladly tell you, but please first come to Kaneohe. Come as soon as you can and stay for lunch, and please bring your wife. And the bike."
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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