The black lab jumped into an incoming wave, splashed around, then followed his master as they walked in my direction. The surfer and I were about thirty feet apart when the dog stopped to check out something in the sand.
I’d heard of surfing-dog contests and briefly wondered if surfer dude had ever thought of teaching his dog the fine art. That would be cute. I shrugged off the thought and turned my attention back to Kong, who was loosening his ankle strap. The surfer and I half-waved to each other as we passed. The dog must have realized he was being left behind and gave up on his sand-treasure. He ran after his master, but slowed to a trot as he approached me. I bent down to give him a pat on the head. “Good boy.”
The dog sniffed, then pointed his nose at my ketchup-bandage. A prickly sense of foreboding crawled down my spine. Did dogs like ketchup? I backed away, afraid he might decide to take a bite out of my leg, then realized the awful truth. The bandage was loose. My new friend was curious and maybe hungry. I risked one last pat on the head before walking away. He followed, his nose working overtime.
Kong lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “You’re still here. And you brought a buddy.”
I tried to shoo away the pest. “He’s not mine. Belongs to that guy.” I glanced over my shoulder, where I saw the surfer staring at me and the dog. “Go on, boy. Go! Your master’s waiting.”
The dog sniffed again. He took a tentative lick.
No way. This wasn’t happening. “Go on, boy.” I waved my hands harder, but the dog wouldn’t leave.
Kong was grinning. “He likes blood. Must be part shark.”
I tried backing away. The dog followed. I heard a whistle. The surfer watched us, looking pissed.
“Shit, get away, you little blood sucker.”
Kong laughed. I stumbled and nearly fell in the sand. The dog chased me. We were playing catch the ketchup and I was the bait.
In the distance, I heard, “Goddammit, Cody, get over here!”
The dog peeked cautiously at his owner, then seemed to make up his mind because he zeroed in on my bandage with a single-minded purpose. Long drops of saliva dangled from his mouth. The drool swayed with his movements in ever-widening circles until it landed in the sand.
“Goddammit, what are you doing with my dog! Cody, come.”
Kong sank to his knees in the surf, laughing so hard he couldn’t stand. Everyone on the beach was pointing, laughing, and having a good time watching the crazy dog chase the lunatic.
I began to run in circles. “Get away from me. Go, shoo!”
Kong had tears running down his cheeks. The surfer dropped his board and charged toward us. “Hey asshole, leave my dog alone. Cody, come.”
“Get your damn dog aw—ay!” My foot landed hard on something sharp. My knee buckled and I fell backwards into the sand.
Cody was on me before I could say, “Oompf.”
I lay stunned while Cody licked and nibbled at my “wound.” Now, Cody was tugging on the bandage. A mixture of emotions ran through me when I glanced down. Cody had worked my ketchup-soaked bandage loose and was dragging it across the sand. I felt anger at the dog and his owner, but was petrified Kong would realize I’d faked an injury. The surfer ran to Cody and grabbed one end of the bandage. The dog planted his feet and bared his teeth at his owner. The two were suddenly engaged in a tug of war.
“Goddammit, Cody! Let go.”
Cody was drawn steadily closer as the surfer pulled him in. Though Cody growled as he lost ground, his tail was up and wagged from side-to-side.
The tug of war continued with the surfer yelling expletives at Cody. “Son of a bitch. The guy needs his bandage. Let go.”
Kong sat in the sand, waves washing around him, laughing. A ring of onlookers had formed. Some cheered on the dog, others his owner. To one side, a middle-aged man with a camcorder videotaped the episode.
There was the sound of something tearing, then Cody’s owner yelled, “Sh—it!” That was followed by familiar sounds, a thud, then a grunt when he landed. Cody ran away with the bandage dangling from his mouth.
He glanced over at me, “You okay, mister?”
I waved my hand and nodded. He jumped up and ran after Cody.
Kong stood over me, still wiping tears from his cheeks and laughing again. “What the hell was that all about?”
I shook my head, not sure what to say or whether to even speak. I was busted. Screwed over by a dog and my own stupid plan.
“What’s that on your leg?”
I rolled my eyes. “Ketchup. Heinz, to be exact.”
To my surprise, Kong fell back into the sand, again laughing hysterically. “You really are crazy, man. You’re a land shark.” He howled, then struggled to his knees. “Be right back,” he said as he walked to the shore. He rinsed off the sand with water from the next couple of waves. When he returned, he was still snickering. “You never surfed, did you?”
I shrugged.
He extended his hand. “Have you?”
I pulled myself up, but when I put weight on my left foot I really was in pain. I looked at the bottom of my foot, saw the skin hadn’t been broken, but it still felt as if someone had tried to do foot surgery with jagged glass as a scalpel.
I mumbled. “Damn, that hurts. And, no, I haven’t.”
“That’s what you get for lying. You got bad karma, man.”
“Oh, please. I don’t believe in that crap.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. The funny part was, if there was anything funny about this, my feelings about that “crap” were changing.
Kong picked up his board. “I got things to do.” He walked away.
This was the worst possible scenario. I was doomed. I had to stop him. “Wait. Kong, look, I just thought you needed someone to talk to. You were alone at the funeral. That tells me it’s just you. I told you before I know what it’s like to lose someone. That’s one hundred percent true.”
He eyed me suspiciously, then glanced down at the ketchup smear on my leg. He chuckled. “I ain’t laughed so hard in I don’t know how long. If nothing’ else, you got high entertainment value. C’mon. I know a place where you can buy me a beer.”
Oh, great. Now I had to buy alcohol for a guy who made people like Stan disappear. “Sure, I’ll buy. Where do you want to go?”
“Koloa. There’s a good pizza place there. We can grab something to eat while we’re at it, I’m starved.”
A pizza place? Lucky me. Apparently, my karma balance had fallen into the red. We headed off to our cars, Kong toting his board as though it were a toy, me nursing my sore foot. On the way, he asked for my name. I gave him the name of one of CJ’s cousins, Marvin O’Brien, a retired jewelry store owner from Redondo Beach. He seemed satisfied and, when we reached his truck, set his board in the back. The laugh lines I’d seen earlier were now gone. “Where’s your car?”
I pointed across the street at Buster. “It’s a loaner, I mean, it belongs to a friend.”
“Follow me.” Kong climbed into his gleaming black Toyota 4x4 Tundra, complete with oversized alloy wheels and tires.
During the time it took me to get Buster turned around, he must have made a phone call, because he was talking on his cell when I pulled in behind him. He drove back on Lawai Road toward Koloa Town and never hung up.
Koloa is a small community that was, like everything else in Hawaii, once driven by sugar. Now, the restored plantation-era buildings housed the typical tourist attractions of art galleries, T-shirt shops and eateries. I found a parking place not far from Kong’s. By the time I got to his car, he’d ended his call. For a guy who was so alone, he’d spent a very long time on the phone. Was he really alone? Why hadn’t the person he’d been speaking with come to the funeral?
The pizza place was in the middle of the block. The aroma of baking dough, cheese and sauce wafted through open-air windows to the wooden walkway fronting the restaurant. The open double doors welcomed us with more of the heavenly mixture of pizza smells, making this one of
the few times I really hated being a celiac.
Kong spotted a table off to one side opposite one of the TV’s tuned to sports channels. It was only 4:30, so the place was relatively empty. I’d bet that during the dinner hour this place, along with the other restaurants in this block, would turn into a madhouse.
No sooner were we seated than a waitress arrived at our table. She wore a maroon T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. Her brown eyes were large behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. Her gold earrings were shaped like fish, as was her gold bracelet. Please, I thought, don’t tell me she was Morah’s friend, too.
“Hey, Kong, your usual?”
Kong nodded. “Howzit, April. Yeah, the usual.”
April adjusted her glasses, which had slipped down her nose, then glanced at me.
“Red wine,” I said.
“Red wine,” echoed Kong. “You don’t drink beer?”
April shrugged, rolled her eyes when Kong glanced up at her, then left.
I played with the napkin she’d placed in front of me. “I have a dietary disorder, can’t have anything with wheat, oats, rye or barley. That includes beer.”
Kong suppressed a smile.
“I know, I know. High entertainment value. Who can’t drink beer?”
“Hey, man, whatever. Fine by me if you’d rather drink wine.”
“It’s got nothing to do with what I’d like, it’s got everything to do with not dying.”
The smile on his face fell. Kong’s head fell forward and I was immediately sorry for my choice of words, I shouldn’t have mentioned the “D” word.
“I miss her. The only time I don’t think about her is when I’m riding a wave—or watching you with that freakin’ dog.” He chuckled. “Sorry.” He tried to stifle the laugh, but failed.
I laughed also. “It’s okay. Looking back, it does seem like a stupid idea.” I paused, then decided to make another attempt at bonding. “I lost my soul mate not so long ago—well, maybe a while—six years. Some days it seems like I’ve been sentenced to this, like, purgatory, yah? Others, it’s not as bad.”
“This pain don’t go away then?”
The waitress arrived with our drinks, a glass of house red for me, a bottle of Kona Brewing Company Pale Ale and an empty glass for Kong. She glanced at Kong with genuine concern in her eyes. “Everything okay?”
He shook his head. “Morah died last week. The service was today.”
April put her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. She was such a sweet girl. I thought you two were gonna, you know, get married, have keiki, the whole package.”
Kong’s jaw tightened. He took a sip of his beer. “Not now.”
“How’d it happen? She was so young.” She paused. “You are, too.”
“There was an accident,” I said.
April put a hand on Kong’s shoulder. “So sorry to hear that. Gotta get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.” She left us to greet a sunburned couple who had entered through the front door.
Kong gritted his teeth. “I don’t believe the cops. Morah wasn’t making meth. It was no accident.”
“I think you knew her better than anyone, including her sister.”
Kong raised his hand to the side of his face. He made a circular motion with his index finger. “Looloobelle.”
“She did seem kind of—out there.”
“She’s a wacko. Man, she and Morah couldn’t be anymore different. Just like me and Des.”
I leaned forward. “Your sister?”
“Sometimes I think she’s crazier than Lu. You know, when Des was in 10th grade, she started selling test answers to kids. She was doing pretty good until one of the teachers got suspicious because her worst students started getting A’s. Des said the teacher reordered the questions on the final math exam. Two punks she’d sold the answers to decided they were gonna get their money back in trade. They cornered Des after school. She was damned lucky I showed up when I did.”
“So you saved her from a beating?”
“Maybe something else. I don’t know, man. I got no idea how far they’d have taken it. What I do know is our basketball team did really bad that year.”
I winced. “Two players were out due to, uh, physical injuries?”
Kong nodded.
I winced again. This time thinking about what he might do to me if he learned what I was up to. “Hope you don’t get mad at me.”
He took a gulp from his glass, looked like he was going to say something, then changed his mind. “Nah, you’re the class clown. The jester. The one who keeps the rest of us entertained.” He raised his glass. He turned serious. “Just don’t do nothing to piss me off.”
My breath caught at the threat, but I raised my glass anyway. “Here’s to jesters.” I doubted he’d think I was a jester if I put together enough evidence to call the cops. “So, tell me about Morah.”
A grim smile formed on his lips. “She woulda loved that thing with the dog. She was one of a kind. Always had a kind word. Lovable. Funny. She’d had hard times. Maybe that’s why she loved life so much. I finally worked up enough nerve to ask her to marry me a couple of days before I left town.”
I twirled my wine glass in my hand. “I heard the note you read at the funeral.”
He nodded absently. “Yeah, you handed it to me.”
“At least you’ve got that. It’s more than just a memory.”
“Look at me. I know I ain’t pretty. Lu called me a Neanderthal once. Bitch. That was about the last time she and Morah spoke. Morah told Lu if she couldn’t be civil, then she had no use for her. I never did nothing to disrespect Lu, but she still hated my guts. You’d think she’d have been happy her sister found someone.”
“Amen, brah.” I raised my glass and sipped. “Maybe she was pissed because her sister had something she didn’t. Jealousy. I hear it’s a big thing between brothers and sisters. I was an only child.”
Kong nodded. He drained the last of his beer and motioned at April for a refill. “You good?”
“I’m a cheap drunk.” Put the emphasis on cheap. The tab for this little pizza run was going to set me back money I didn’t have. I hit him again, it was worth another try. “Maybe Lu was jealous of what you and Morah had.”
Kong continued. “Looloobelle? Love?” He snorted. “She’s cold as they get. Just like Des. Damn, maybe you’re right. Maybe Looloobelle couldn’t stand it that Morah wasn’t like her—lonely and bitter.”
April delivered Kong’s beer, she winked at me when she noticed my glass was still nearly full.
I said, “What I don’t understand is, if Lu and Morah didn’t get along, why’d she set up the funeral? Why go to all that trouble? And expense?”
“Cause I paid for it. All of it. The flowers. The funeral service. Everything you saw there came out of my pocket.”
“I’m surprised your sister didn’t attend. You know, out of sympathy for you.”
“Like I said, brah, Des is cold. Besides, she ain’t been feeling good lately. She’s been damn moody herself.”
“That’s too bad. Funerals are so expensive.”
“Morah deserved it.”
“Business must be good.”
“We’re growing.” He glanced away, then focused on his beer. “Des handles her part, I handle mine. Nice, clear lines of authority. That’s how businesses succeed. Everyone knows what to do.”
“That’s why you were in Honolulu? For business?”
He glanced around the restaurant, at the tables filling slowly with tourists worn from a day at the beach or trying to avoid cooking. Obviously pizza was popular, even in paradise.
“That trip’s eating you up, isn’t it?” I said.
He buried his face in his hands. His scraggly hair fell forward, hiding his emotions. From me. From the world. “If I had been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”
I wondered if he knew that was when Morah was ready to run. “You can’t know that. Besides, if you’ve got a
business that’s got operations on multiple islands, you can’t always be here. You have to do it sooner or later.”
“The trip wasn’t necessary. I shouldn’t have even been the one to go.”
“Why’s that?”
Kong gritted his teeth. His left cheek twitched; his eyes went cold. “At the last minute, the guy who was gonna go got sick. I had to rush to the airport and grab the first open flight. Then, the guy on Oahu didn’t show for the meeting. I lost the weekend because I had to track him down. Finally found him Monday morning.”
“At least you found him. Why didn’t he show?”
“He didn’t say.”
I did a double take. “You didn’t ask?”
“He was dead. Drowned at the marina.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He drowned? In a marina? Anyone who watches any amount of news in Hawaii knows someone might drown this week. And next week. And the week after. It’s a sad fact of life here in the islands. With hundreds of miles of sandy beaches, warm water, and temperatures in the 80s year round, a drowning shouldn’t come as a big surprise. The thing is, the majority of those deaths occur in open water, not in marinas. I had no idea how many marina drownings we really had, but it was hard for me to imagine the primary suspect in my check theft coincidentally drowning in a Honolulu marina right when the cops were closing in? On the same weekend the guy who sat across from me just happened to be in town?
Kauai Temptations Page 15