“I’m not…” Benni and a slight woman with dark hair appear on the beach. They’re trudging forward, trying to run, but being held back by the soft sand and the giant book they’re carrying. Another woman shows up behind them. All three begin shrieking, shooting fear-filled glances over their shoulders. What’s that chasing them?
It’s a miniature biplane. Bright red. It has a white 6 painted on the tail. There’s a weird apparatus beneath the wings. Metal tubes. It’s a mini crop duster. I don’t count, but know it has six nozzles. Crimson spray erupts to the rear and blankets the sand with a heavy mist.
The musicians play faster. The tikis dance in time.
The third woman wears a purple gown. Low-cut. Tight. Is that Mandy? She stumbles and falls into the sand. The miniature plane buzzes her. Red spray settles over her. I suck in a breath. Hold it. She lies still. No movement. Then, the body slowly sinks beneath the sand as though it’s being swallowed by the earth.
I exhale. What happened? How?
The woman with Benni stares at where Mandy’s body had been. She screams. Drops her end of the book. I get a momentary glimpse of the book’s cover. It bears a red numeral—6, again. The numbers must mean something. What? The woman wraps her arms around a tiki like she’s seeking protection. Lightning bolts engulf her. The arcs stop after a few seconds and she crumples to the ground. Benni lets the book fall to drag her friend into the circle.
The spray from the plane settles near the tikis, but inside the perimeter it has no effect. The crop duster cruises along the beach, then banks left. It captivates me.
“Brah, you bettah do somethin’.”
“Like what?”
Kimu hooks his thumb to his right. A man sits astride a surfboard nearby. A mask of some sort conceals his face. I feel I should know him. He’s familiar—but not. He’s smiling. It can’t be at me. It’s as though he doesn’t see me. Or care. His grin is vicious. Evil. He holds a giant crab upside-down. It’s not moving. He does something with one of the legs. Looks up at the plane. It makes its turn.
From shore, I hear Benni’s screams. “McKenna! Help me. The tikis can’t hold out much longer!”
The tikis? They’re dancing faster now. Almost…frantic. As though they’re trying to escape. The shore image dissolves and I’m facing out to sea watching the biplane cruise into the distance. It turns, its course now parallel to the shore. The intent becomes clear when it banks left. It’s coming back for another pass. At the tikis? At Benni?
I glare at Kimu. “Make this go away!”
“No can do, brah. You need take dat guy down. Here…try dis.” He pulls a green fish with white stripes from the ocean. He shakes his head and tosses it to me.
I bat at the slimy beast. It splats against the ocean’s surface and floats without moving. “Are you nuts? That’s a—is it…dead?”
“Real bad stuff dis time. We got plenty more.” He reaches down, comes up with another. It’s a two-foot-long monster. He heaves it at me.
The surfboard shudders with the impact. It’s there. In front of me. My only weapon. I clamp my hands around the tail. One vacant eye stares blankly into space.
“You don’t stop dis guy, we gonna have even more.”
Benni’s screams grow louder. She’s terrified. And all I have is a dead fish? I start to throw it back, but the body is as stiff as…a bat. A baseball bat. I lay down on the board and paddle, the stench assaulting my nostrils.
Behind me, Kimu calls out. “Keep low, brah. You don’t want him see you coming.”
How could he not? My weapon reeks. I’m flailing at the water like a madman. And I could easily vomit. But now, I understand why the man doesn’t notice me. The mask. It’s made of seaweed. Giant kelp turned dry and brittle.
My board glides next to his as the plane begins its run along the shore. He wiggles a crab leg again. The tiny engines on the biplane whine as it dives. He pulls on a different leg. Red spray blankets the beach.
I grab the fish’s tail. Hoist it high. Take a swing. My blow lands squarely against his temple. His seaweed mask flies off and he tumbles into the water. I see him clearly now. It’s Cap Myers.
The force of the impact also knocks me off-balance, but before the fish and I hit the surface, the mini-biplane tilts to one side. The wings wobble. One nozzle touches sand. It cartwheels end-over-end, bursting into a fiery ball of flame mere feet from the tikis.
A flurry of bubbles and surf surround me. I’m touching bottom. It’s soft, silky. The water isn’t deep, so I stand, still gripping the dead fish’s tail. I won’t—or can’t—let go.
Myers stands opposite me. He seizes a speargun floating nearby. I flex my knees. Swing.
He groans at the impact. Loses his grip on the gun and staggers sideways. When he comes up, he’s spurting water and covered in kelp. He thrashes about, trying to free himself from the slimy tendrils, but they cling to him like a spider’s web.
We both stumble toward shore. The current and seaweed are pulling at Myers. He can barely move. Neither can I because the weight of my weapon holds me back. Myers stops at the water’s edge. A tangle of kelp encircles his ankle. The air vibrates with the intensity of rolling drums.
I push harder. Rush at him, my fish held high.
The blow knocks him over. He lands face first. The ground rumbles and vibrates beneath my feet and a second later, the seaweed around his foot tightens. His fingers leave claw marks in the sand, but the next wave erases them. Behind me, the music reaches a crescendo. The cymbals crash.
Myers’ body is gone. Lost in a final pull of heavy surf.
The seas flatten. No waves. Just…peaceful. I turn and stare at the musicians. They’re packing up. Kimu is watching from his board, smiling and nodding as he drifts away. He signals me with a shaka sign, then turns and paddles out to sea. I wade to where Myers disappeared. There’s nothing. No trace. Seriously? The ocean simply swallowed him? Like the sand took Mandy? How can this happen? When I look again for Kimu, he’s gone.
“McKenna? Are you okay?”
It’s Benni. Did she just shake me awake? “Pinch me.”
She thumped my temple with the flick of a finger.
“Ouch!”
“The way you were thrashing around, I thought you might be having a heart attack.”
“No, nothing like that. But, I think Hisao was right. I have no idea what we’re dealing with. This is way over my head.”
28
Moonbeams entering through the clerestory windows cast geometrical patterns on the walls. There was no ocean. No evil man or killer kelp. This was just us, alone and lying here in peace.
“What do you mean, over your head?” Benni was on her side, facing me. She reached out and stroked my brow.
“Oh, nothing. Maybe it was something I ate.”
“Do you think the Ahi Poke disagreed with you? You’re not really used to raw fish.”
How could I tell her about the dream when I barely fathomed it myself? I turned to face her and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Could be. I’m going to have to see what happens the next time I have it. Let’s get some sleep. I’m sure I’ll be fine now.” But, I wouldn’t be fine, okay, or anything else so easy. It might take me half the night to unravel Kimu’s message.
I rolled onto my back, and Benni curled up beside me. She draped one arm over my chest and breathed softly. I was way too wired to sleep though. Dead fish? Tikis? Biplanes? An orchestra on the beach? For crying out loud, what was he telling me this time? Don’t go to concerts near the water?
The first drops of a gentle rain began to fall outside. Slowly, the pattering on the lānai cover grew louder. Raindrops slapping on leaves murmured a steady rhythm. My thoughts droned on, all the while in time with nature’s music. Over and over. Same questions. No answers. I whispered, “What do you want with me, Kimu?”
Next to me, Benni s
tirred. She pulled her arm back, rolled away, and muttered, “I love you, too.”
Her words added a new dimension to my uncertainty. What secrets was I picking at? Would I endanger her, too? The whirling fan blades above flickered with reflected light. One thought blurred into another. Two questions merged to form one. Soon, there were no separate thoughts, only a long rush of images and voices pulling me deeper toward a fretful sleep.
The stream slowed, then stopped. One image filled my thoughts. Benni. She stood in the center of the tikis wearing a white sundress with a tropical print. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. In that moment I knew we’d overstayed our welcome on Maui. I wanted peace in my life. Not a dead guy haunting my dreams. Or someone trying to kill me.
My phone pinged at 6:15 with a text message from Hisao—meet me out front. come alone.
Now what? Unless he intended to recant his story from yesterday, what was the point? I messaged back—do you have new info?
The reply was almost immediate—5 mins.
I dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, left a note for Benni telling her I was going for a walk on the beach, and snuck out the door. All I wanted now was to leave Maui. I despised abandoning Hisao, but did the man even want my help? I thought not.
The meeting wouldn’t take long unless Hisao had new information. The bottom line was I’d tell him we were leaving if he didn’t give us something of substance. Deep down, I hoped Mrs. Nakamura might understand. With luck, I’d be back before Benni awoke.
The morning air, cool and heavy with moisture, clung to the beginnings of day. Shadows, still long, gradually receded. Wisps of clouds in the clear blue sky, the only traces of last night’s rain, reflected varying shades of white and gray.
The Ilikahi was still quiet. For now, it appeared I was the only one moving in the complex. My solitude wouldn’t last long though and soon the other guests would be rising. The complex was at the end of a long, narrow driveway so secluded the only sound as I walked was the slap of my slippahs against the bottoms of my feet. The steady rhythm lent a special note of peace to the almost perfect morning.
Most of the homes in the immediate neighborhood had driveways with a garage or carport. Consequently, only a few cars dotted the road. There was a white SUV across the street, an old Toyota a few doors down, and a black limousine down the block. I didn’t see Hisao’s truck. The limo pulled out and drove in my direction. A car-for-hire taking travelers to the airport? When it rolled to a stop, I thought someone had made a mistake. A stern-faced driver wearing a muted-print aloha shirt and khakis exited and approached.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Get in, brah.” He opened the rear door. The guy was built like a concrete block wall. Square. Strong. He didn’t look like the type who would tolerate any BS. And, judging by the bulge on his hip, he carried a gun.
A ripple of fear ran through me. “I’m sure you have the wrong guy.”
“Hisao Fujita sent me.” The driver said as he motioned at the back seat with one finger.
Message received. Don’t argue with the big guy. It seemed unwise to ask what would happen if I tried to escape. I could scream, but who would hear? I could run—about five feet before this linebacker picked me up and threw me in like a sack of potatoes. Or I could be brave and see what this was all about.
The driver seized my shoulder, patted down my pockets, and took my cell phone. “Don’t move, brah.” He glared at me for a second, then pulled a heavy duty paperclip from his pocket, inserted the tip into a hole on the side of the phone, and popped out the SIM card.
“Hey, you can’t do that!”
My jaw flapped up and down, but he seemed unperturbed as he handed over both pieces.
“You ain’t gonna need it fo’ now, brah.” His thick pidgin accent made his version of English sound like a foreign language.
Who were these guys? What were they up to? I had to get away from them. Besides, Kimu had included no limousines in the dream. It was as though a bone-chilling hand gripped my spine.
The driver shoved me inside and I landed on the seat quite unceremoniously. Holy cow. The man next to me was Cap Myers. I didn’t think it was his real name. “Why did you disable my phone?”
“You can reassemble it when we’re done.” His voice was strong and confident with no hint of nervousness.
“You obviously know who I am. Who are you?”
No answer. The door slammed.
“You’re Myers.”
He said nothing, but a little twitch of his right cheek revealed his reaction.
“Maybe we could reschedule?” I grabbed the handle and pulled, but they’d locked the door. I was so screwed. Why had I left that note? Why hadn’t I hit my phone’s panic button when I could have?
The car rolled away from the Ilikahi and my friends. I was alone and on my own. My confidence eroded as we drove.
The limo smelled of new leather. The interior temperature was cool, but the space felt close and warm. I couldn’t breathe and fingered the neckline of my T-shirt. Now that I was getting a good look at Myers, I realized how dangerous he looked with his shaved head and scruffy beard. His aviator glasses reflected my image. His ears lay flat against his head.
He’d dressed all in black. Shirt. Pants. Casual shoes. Who did this guy think he was? James Bond on a secret mission?
We slowed to a crawl for speed bumps, then cruised to Shaw Street and exited the neighborhood.
“You’ll be back. If you cooperate.” He sounded almost bored as he picked a piece of lint from his trousers and dropped it into the ashtray.
What kind of BS was he pulling? If he wanted to intimidate me, he was succeeding. The thing is, I couldn’t let him know it. “Did you want something or are we just out for a drive?” My comment fell flat. Myers wasn’t impressed by my bravado. Neither was I. I’d shown weakness, not strength.
We took the bypass road and sped up. Myers appeared unconcerned by my presence. He made no move to show emotion behind the lenses of his mirrored sunglasses. He had the act down. Really well.
Unless I was mistaken, we were about halfway to Lahainaluna, and I found it hard to believe we were headed to the Fujita home. “Where are we going? You said you were here on behalf of Hisao. Why didn’t he come himself?” Nothing. What was this guy, a stone wall? “If something happens to me, people will figure it out.”
“Not likely.” Myers settled back into his seat.
He was right, even I felt the threat to be empty. Now what? My pulse pounded faster. We’d just driven by the turnoff where Hisao lived. If we weren’t going to Hisao’s home…
Myers’ phone rang. “I have him,” he said, then disconnected.
A video screen rotated down from the roof, and the image was one of me standing on the sidewalk in front of the Ilikahi. A disembodied voice, scrambled, so as to be unrecognizable, spoke. “I hope you are comfortable, Mr. McKenna.”
I straightened, repressing the overwhelming desire to lean closer to the speaker. “Sure, this is a fancy car. Pretty amazing for little old Maui. Nice trick with the video.”
“I have a proposition for you, Mr. McKenna.”
Okay, he wasn’t taking the bait to engage in conversation. We were here for a purpose. “I kind of like to know who I’m dealing with. Why don’t you put your picture up and tell me who you are?” I didn’t expect an answer, but why not try?
“You will be compensated for your time, Mr. McKenna. You have two options.”
The car slowed and took a side road. Brown fields were everywhere. “I don’t really need compensation, Mr…?”
“If you leave Maui within twenty-four hours and never again pursue your investigation into the death of Teddie Lawler, you will receive one million dollars.”
“One mil…” Right. Like I believed that one. “A million dollars? Just for going home?” And letting Hisao Fujita pa
y for a crime he didn’t commit.
The image on the screen changed to that of a bank statement. It looked familiar. What the…it was mine. Less than two hundred bucks. My normal condition.
“It appears you are having trouble making ends meet, Mr. McKenna. Payment will be made into a numbered account and you will not divulge our transaction.”
I gulped. A million dollars. My money woes would evaporate. Gone forever. “You must have a lot at stake.”
“My affairs are not your concern. Are we clear?”
Crystal, as they say. If the inside of the car had seemed close before, it was now oppressive and my breathing labored. I shot a sideways glance at Myers. He was as cool as ever. My pulse felt like it was going off the scale. Was this how a panic attack felt?
How would I explain my sudden inheritance? Better to be alive and rich than dead and—wow, a million bucks. Benni and I would never have to worry about money. But, Hisao…his life…that of Mrs. Nakamura’s granddaughter…so many lives would be ruined.
The car stopped at the entrance to an abandoned cane haul road. One lane. Dirt. This was all useless land. No useable water. It was the perfect place to make someone vanish.
“You have not yet answered my question, Mr. McKenna. Are you in agreement with my terms?”
A dump truck rumbled at the road’s junction. Black smoke belched from the exhaust pipes. Why had I come to Maui? I just wanted to marry Benni and settle down. No more crime. No more bad guys. “Do I have another choice?”
“I think you understand your other option, Mr. McKenna.”
The driver stepped out, approached my door, and pulled it open. This time, the gun he’d hidden was visible. The smell of dust and dirt wafted into the car. I scanned the area. Dirt. Weeds. Dry brush. We were in the middle of nowhere.
Myers sat watching me. Silent. My reflection was that of a man scared to death and I could not let these thugs see that.
“I’d like some time to think things over. I don’t want to have victim’s remorse or anything. Maybe James Bond here could take me home now.”
Maui Magic Page 16