Making it pono

"Ha! That's a good one!" Randy Makapu'u said, laughing the laugh of a braddah not amused by practical jokes directed at his own self. "Now why the f--- I'm here already?"

Tokelani Green and the attorney Jeff Lam exchanged a glance across the polished koa conference table in the offices of the State Land Board.

"Not the first time this has happened," Tokelani said to Lam, "it's just too much... " Then turning to Randy, "I know it sounds incredible, too good to be true, right? But I can assure you, all of this land at Makapu'u... " She pointed to a large map spread out on the table. "... belongs to you."

Randy, 30, had escaped Nanakuli High with a sympathy diploma and felt lucky to be working as a security guard for Portagee Protective. Get uniform, get stun gun, li' dat. He never expected to be a wealthy man. But now... he began to tremble. "Cannot be... "

"Can, Mr. Makapu'u," Tokelani said. "Definitely can."

A tear ran down Randy's cheek. No shame. He turned the map to get a better perspective.

"All this... " he said, a thick brown finger tracing a blue line that began at the Sandy Beach side of the Makapu'u Lighthouse, continued up a ridge to the top of the Ko'olau, followed the mountains and ran down another ridge, ending at the beach on the Kailua side of the Shriners Home. "I get all this?"

The attorney cleared his throat. "Ahem... "

"Well, not exactly," Tokelani said. "Let me explain. I take it you've never heard of the Pono Commission?"

"First time when you send me the letter."

"We're fairly new, and prefer to work quietly. Basically, someone in the Legislature - and how it happened is still sort of a mystery - tacked a provision onto last year's tax bill that created the Pono Commission. We're charged with righting old wrongs, making it right."

"In your case," the attorney said, "as I said earlier, we've found a terrible mistake was made years ago. The title for all of this land at Makapu'u rightfully belongs to your family, and you're the only Makapu'u we can locate."

"So I get 'um or wot?"

"There's no way," Tokelani said, "that we can displace Sea Life Park, the Oceanic Institute, the UH research facility, the lighthouse, which is a national historical site, two popular surfing beaches and several homeowners. But we do want to make it pono."

"We're offering a land swap," the attorney said, sliding another map down the table. "On the Big Island." He pointed to an area outlined in red.

"Nothing but lava out there," Randy said dismissively. He'd fished the Kona coast.

"Lava," the attorney said, "luxury resorts and golf courses."