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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
The ride is everything
» Kaneohe
As an HPD solo bike officer, one of Quinn Ah Sun's favorite turns on all Oahu was the right from Kahekili Highway onto Likelike. He knew it well from his rookie cop days at the Kaneohe station. If traffic allowed, you could come at it with some speed, accelerate trough the turn and lean with the bike, almost scraping your right knee on the pavement. It's a maneuver he wouldn't feel comfortable with riding a Harley, but one the agile BMW was designed to perform.
They were lucky, right and center lanes were open, the light green. Quinn hit the start of the turn at 45 mph and accelerating. (They'd been lucky since leaving Kamasami Khan's hillside home off Lilipuna Road, hardly any traffic at all. Which Quinn thought was good, him being officially part of the protection team for the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa, his passenger, and less traffic meant less chance of being hit by an idiot talking on a cell phone.)
As before, the young lama rode with perfect balance through this high-speed ballet, Quinn accelerating through the turn, upshifting as they came onto the straightaway, going just slightly airborne at the road's tummy-bounce dip, landing with grace.
"Wooo-hooo!" the holy boy exclaimed. "Excellent, officer Ah Sun!"
"You can call me Quinn, your holiness, and you can ride with me any time," Quinn called over his shoulder, braked and downshifted for the entry onto the H-3, again leaning so far to the right the knees of their jeans nearly brushed asphalt. The kid was good, Quinn thought, it was almost like riding without a passenger.
Except that Quinn felt a certain bliss, as happy as he'd ever been, and it was more than riding a great bike on a beautiful morning in Hawaii, more than having made love with his wife Lily just two hours ago, more than knowing Lil was on her way to Kaneohe to prepare lunch for the lama. There was something about this kid.
Again the highway was open, and Quinn quickly upshifted to high. Later the lama would enjoy the view, for that was their goal with this ride, to look back on the Windward side, at the incredible artist's palette of blues and greens, the play of light and shadow on the land. But right now he was enjoying the ride, the rush of air in his face, the purr of the engine, the blur of road rushing beneath and colors all around. The ride was everything.
Traffic, unfortunately, was not so calm on the other side of the Ko'olau. Quinn had his police radio on, but it wouldn't matter. The double murder had just occurred, the chase was on, and he would be the first officer to encounter the perps and their pursuers. He and the second Lama Jey Tsong Khapa.
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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