Paniolo Pete

by RJ Krause

Chapter 22

  Maile’s Straight Right Hook

  I just went finish my rounds and was headin’ up da street when I saw Paniolo come riding his horse into town. I never see for him long time, so I figure I go say aloha and see what’s up. We talk story for awhile and he went tell me he just come back from New Zealand and had some stuff for take care of. I told him okay, we talk later and left him in front of that haole Maxell’s office place. I went cruise down the street to ‘Matsura’s’ and figure I go eat before I head back to da jail.

  No sooner I went sit down than BAM! I hear glass breaking outside. I grab my sushi and soda and went out to see what’s going on. In front of Maxell’s, there was one haole layin’ on da ground. He no move and the window behind him all bust up.

  I hurried up there fast and inside the office I saw two more boys all bust up and knocked out on the floor. That crazy horse of Pete’s was standin’ inside the office place and had his backside up against the wall. I no see Maxell anywhere. Paniolo Pete was just standing there smiling and Auntie Pukilani was laughing and slapping her leg. That big old horse just stood there watching the whole thing.

  I no can see what’s so funny with all these punks who work for Maxell all out flat, so I ask Auntie what’s up. Now, you all know Auntie Pukilani and she one big wahine. When she laugh, everything shake all over, and I tell you, she was shaking plenty. Auntie was laughing so hard, she cannot answer.

  I went talk to Paniolo. I told him I no like arrest him, but if Maxell press charges, I got no more choice. I not one judge, but da law is da law. I no like all dis kine trouble in my town and if Maxell press charges, I got no choice but to arrest him.

  Now I’ve seen braddah here scrap before so I no like try take him by force. I figure he’ll come nice kine if I explain what’s up.

  “Why Moku,” he went tell me, “I’m not sure that I did anything wrong, but I’ll be glad to clean up the mess that my horse made on the floor. I’m sorry about that, but sometines when he gets excited he forgets where he is and just answers the call of nature.”

  When Auntie heard this, she went laugh even harder and tears were falling down her face she was laughing so hard. Then Paniolo ask Auntie if she thought he had broken any laws. When she finally calm down enough to answer, she says to me, “Shoot brah, those punk haole jump Paniolo and they get what they deserve. Besides, you no can arrest him for protecting himself. If it never happen so fast, I like broke their heads too. Try ask Maxell if he like press charges.” Then Auntie went crack up again. I’ve known Pukilani since small kid time, and I never seen her bust one gut like that.

  From da wall where that horse was leaning, I heard one moan and went to see where it was coming from. All I could see was two legs behind the horse. Then Paniolo tell his horse to move so he could talk to Maxell. That horse went walk away and standing up against the wall was Maxell.

  I no could help it, and I bust up laughing too. The big shot haole who was making trouble for all the ranchers was standing up against the wall covered in do-do. All his fancy clothes was one big mess. Auntie went tell me when da fight started, Pete told his horse to watch Maxell. That big old horse just back up and pin Maxell against the wall. Now, that horse is plenty tall and Maxell not so tall. When Kokoro back up, Maxell was face to face with the horse’s ‘okole. I no could help but laugh!

  I went ask Maxell if he like press charges, and he just shout and run out da door. Last I saw him he was still covered in horse dung and drivin’ his fancy truck out of town. I no think he come back.

  With the story told, the big Hawaiian sheriff leaned forward in his chair, scooped some food onto his plate and started eating. Now I reckon Moku pretty well described what all had happened, and we heard Auntie Pukilani’s version later that week. There was just one thing I couldn’t figure out and bein’ naturally nosy, I had to ask.

  “Pete, if you don’t mind me askin’, one thing strikes me as right peculiar. How did you ever get ol’ Maxell to kiss your horse’s butt? I always thought that old war horse didn’t take a likin’ to strangers.”

  “Well Bill, I guess even old Kokoro gets to feeling lonely now and then and needs to be kissed.”

  Panilo Pete smiled at me, gave his famous wink, and helped himself to more lomi lomi salmon. We spent the rest of the evening eating, talking story, and listening to Pekela and Pua entertain us with song and slack-key guitar. It was another of those beautiful Hawaiian evenings spent surrounded by loved ones.

  When we were all finished and Pete was standing off to one side by himself, I approached him with something that had been kind of worrying me. I reckon I just like to see stories have happy endings, so I asked him about Auntie Pukilani and the other girl who worked for Maxell. I assumed they were both unemployed over what had happened.

  “Why, I hadn’t even thought of that, Bill. I guess I’m still tired from my trip and not thinking straight. You’re right, though. It was my fight, and it was me who caused them to lose their jobs.”

  Pete stood there and stared at the fire for awhile. I could tell he was deep in thought. After several minutes, he finally spoke.

  “Bill, while I was down under in New Zealand and Australia I had plenty of time to think. I had an idea I wanted to discuss with everyone, and now might be the right time to bring it up.”

  There was quite a lot to the discussion, but the gist of it was that Pete wanted to move the coffee packaging out of the barn and into town. It was growing so fast that Noelani needed a bigger area and more help to keep track of all the orders. It was decided that the bookkeeping and packaging end of the business would be moved into the vacant area where Maxell’s office had been.

  “I figure Maxell no need the space,” laughed Noelani. “Besides, his fancy clothes all stink now so he no need office. Better he work in a barn.”

  Pete decided to ride into town the next day and square things with the bank. While he was there he would ask Auntie Pukilani and the other girl if they would work for him in his coffee company. Although he had first agreed to stay away for awhile to let things cool off, everyone agreed that a new business would make the bank happy and be good for the town.

  The night was getting late, and we all had that contented feeling that comes with good food, sweet slack-key music, a warm tropical breeze, and talking story with family and friends. We were all about ready to go to bed when Pua asked Paniolo Pete about his trip.

  “Hey, how come you never tell us about what you went do for the last three years? When Maile and Tanga came back they said you went on a walkabout. What’s one walkabout?”

  Even though we were all pretty tired, the prospect of a new story woke everyone up. Noelani started another pot of coffee and the boys threw some more wood on the fire.

  “Let’s see, where should I begin?” Pete said with a gleam in his eye. “I suppose I’ll just start at the beginning and work from there.”

  He told us about boarding the luxury cruise ship at Aloha Tower in Honolulu and how excited everyone was about the voyage across the Pacific. The sadness over the farewells to friends and family was forgotten once the ship set sail and the excitement set in.

  “Tanga and Maile were getting into their new roles as husband and wife, so I kinda left them alone and went exploring on that great ship. It was one of those big luxury liners with restaurants, a swimming pool, and even a movie theatre.”

  “It must have been the second or third day out when I noticed a group of men shooting off the stern of the ship. Being an old cowboy, I naturally strolled over to see what kind of hunting they were doing out in the middle of the ocean. Well, they weren’t shooting anything live, just practice shooting on clay disks they called pidgeons. The sport was called skeet shooting. They all had fancy guns and one young man in particular, seemed mighty impressed with himself.

  “Now I suppose I like good competition as much as the next guy, but it raises my hackles to listen to a braggart. He was some Earl from England and claimed he had won every contest he ever e
ntered. When I asked him if I might borrow his gun and have a go at it, he reacted like I’d asked to borrow his wife’s pleasures.”

  “‘I say ol’boy,’ this fancy dude said to me, ‘it’s a jolly good thing to want to have a go at a gentleman’s sport, but if a man doesn’t have his own bloody gun he can hardly expect to borrow one. Be a good chap now and run along back to those heathens you came on board with.”

  “What?” yelled Noelani, “he went call my daughter one heathen? I hope you bust him up, Paniolo!”

  “Well, I may not know much about these gentleman sports, but I do know when a man is insulting my family. Of course, I figure all three of those fellas put together wouldn’t amount to more fight than a scared calf, so I just let them be and walked off.”

  “Now, sometimes fate has a way of playing your cards for you, and I suppose that’s what was about to happen. I left the deck and wandered into the galley and starting visiting with one of the old cooks. As we were talking, I noticed an antique Remington 22 caliber bolt action rifle leaning against the wall behind him. I asked him what it was for and the cook told me it was for sharks, rats, and any other varmint he took a fancy to shooting. He was a skinny black man from Mississippi who looked to be about a hundred years old. He had the gait of a man who had been at sea most of his life and we hit it off right from the start. We got to talking about hunting and fishing and the next thing I know, I was asking to borrow his rifle. When I told him what I was planning to do with it, he laughed and told me a 22 rifle was no match for a shotgun at shooting skeet. I had to agree but told him I was a might out of practice and that should make it a little more even.”

  “Anyway since it’s getting pretty late, to make a long story a bit shorter, I borrowed his gun, and in no time I was squaring off with that English Earl. Most of the kitchen crew had followed me up on deck to watch. ‘I say old boy,’ the English fella says, ‘what say we have a bit of a wager. Say fifty pounds to make it a bit more of a sport. Ten birds and the best out of the lot takes all.’

  “I told him I’d take his wager, but if he lost he would agree to apologize to my friends for calling them heathens. So we flipped a coin to see who would go first and he won the toss. I will say one thing for him. He was a pretty good shot with that fancy shotgun he was using. He hit seven out of ten and was rather pleased with himself when he was finished.”

  “Now, I’m not the best shot here in the islands and I suppose all you Kahiona boys and Pua as well can probably outshoot me with a 22. But this stuffy Englishman was going to have to work a little harder than that for his money. When the machine released the clay pidgeon and it flew off the back of the ship, I aimed that old Remington and poked my shot. ‘Looks like you missed, you bloody fool,’ the Earl pipes up. ‘Did you honestly expect to hit the target with a single shot rifle? My advice to you old boy is to stick to shooting cans on your barnyard gate instead of competing in a gentleman’s sport.’

  “I’ll admit I was a might confused because I know I had sighted that bird true. While I was standing there feeling kind of foolish, that old black cook who had lent me the rifle came over and whispered in my ear. We smiled at each other and the next nine birds they threw for me exploded pretty as you please.

  “The English gent was fit to be tied, but true to his word he went below deck to apologize to Maile and Tanga for calling them heathens. Now, I gotta tell you Noelani and Keala, you would have been so proud of your little girl the way she knocked the Earl out with a straight right hook! When I came down the stairs and saw Maile take that swing, she smiled at me with that innocent look and gave me a little wink. Then she closed her door and I suppose went back to some more honeymooning.”

  “She really went knockout that loud-mouthed haole?” asked Noelani in an excited voice.

  “I went teach her that punch small kid time” said Keala. Both parents where glowing with pride over their little girls virtue being restored.

  I could see everyone was getting a might tired and Paniolo Pete seemed to have finished his story. There was one thing that was bothering me, though. But before I could say anything, Pete asked to be excused and promised to tell us more about his trip once he had some rest. After all, it had been a pretty exciting two days since his return. Well, I just couldn’t wait, so as he started walkin’ toward the house I followed him. I had to know what the old cook had whispered in his ear.

  “Why Bill, he told me not to aim for the center of the disk. He said to just shoot the clay on its side so it will explode. My first shot just made a clean hole in the top. I gotta tell you, Bill, it was sure easier to shoot the disks on the side rather than on top.”

  Pete smiled, turned, and gave me a wave as he headed into the house. I thought about what Pete said. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how shootin’ the side of something maybe an inch thick with a 22 off the back of a moving ship could ever be called easy. But I reckon maybe it was to a man like Paniolo Pete.