Twinkling of an eye

"Wha ... What was that?!" the young chief Kaneloa exclaimed when the shaking stopped.

"Takeoff," replied Ola, goddess of life.

Entering the realm of the gods was, in fact, rather like being launched off the deck of an aircraft carrier, a frantic dance with five or six Gs.

"Whew!" Kaneloa said. "Cool!"

"It is, isn't it? Now nestle down, bebbe, and have something to drink. We'll be there sooner than you know."

"How soon?"

"The twinkling of an eye. You ever here Buddha talk about how much can happen in the twinkling of an eye?"

"Uh, no. This is the first time I've been past Bellows."

Kaneloa did as he'd been instructed, and suckled the sacred milk of life -- nourishing and refreshing, if you were writing the ad copy. He wasn't aware of Ola walking, as she had back in Molokai when she'd rescued him from the toxic Tube of Ka-lai-pahoa, but they were moving, he could tell that, even without any other physical references.

"Like I said, bebbe, you have a test awaiting you," Ola said, stroking his head like a baby's. "More than just testing for the hand of the princess."

"Honestly, I don't think I have much of a chance," he said, coming up for air. "I mean, she's descended from the gods and from Kamehameha. I'm just a lowly chief of excrement haulers."

"Don't sell yourself short, bebbe. There's a rumor going around about you."

"Going around where?"

"Here. Among the gods and goddesses."

"Ah." Kaneloa went back to nourishment and refreshment.

After a while he said, "The Great King is calling."

"I hear him too. Yes, it's you he's calling. That's why I got the buzz from Pele to come get your young okole over to the Big Island."

"Eh, that smell... "

"Beautiful, yes? The royal tuberose plantation of King Kavawai. One of the best things about the world of the gods is that the best parts of the human world -- the scent of flowers, the music of laughter, a prayer of compassion -- drift into our world. OK, bebbe, you just about filled up?"

"I feel great, mahalo."

"Here we go, hang on ... "

Once again the world went goofy, and when his senses returned, Kaneloa found himself standing alone in a sea of white tuberose blossoms. The royal tuberose plantation. But no Ola. Yet he heard her whisper in his ear, "Sorry, bebbe, I no can appear to play favorites, know what I mean? But good luck."

Kaneloa heard a distant pahu drum echoing through The Tube, and followed the sacred sound.