Two To Mango

by Jill Marie Landis

  “You sure? That would be great.”

  Tiko not only packed up the smoothie packets but she also cut an armful of tropical, torch ginger, crab claw heliconia and pink gingers and helped Em load them into her car.

  “Will you be going to the Kukui Nut Festival?” Tiko asked.

  Em opened her car door. “I’m going along to support the Maidens.”

  “I hope they do well,” Tiko said. “They seem like a fun group.”

  “You should think about dancing with them if you ever have time. They only have one rule,” Em said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t fall over.”

  Tiko laughed. “If I ever have time again, I’ll think about it.”

  Em pulled into the Goddess driveway and parked by the back door to the office.

  She called out to Sophie to let her know she was back. A handful of tables were filled with tourists enjoying early happy hour. Em went back to unload the boxes and stack them against the wall in the small space she thought of as Grand Central. When she went back outside to move her car she noticed their neighbor, Nat Clark, unloading groceries from the back of his SUV. He saw her just as he pulled out a huge cardboard box full of Costco items.

  “How’ve you been?” he called out.

  She crossed the parking lot rather than shout. Nat rested the box on the tailgate and waited. A successful television writer who lived in the refurbished cottage he’d recently purchased, Nat was handsome in a bookish way behind his thick tortoise shell glasses. He’d bought the beach house next door as a retreat from the hectic life he lived in both Honolulu and L.A. His only regret was that he couldn’t spend more time on Kauai.

  “I thought you wouldn’t be back for another three weeks,” Em said.

  Nat had left her the spare keys to the house in case there were any weather disasters or he needed something.

  “We wrapped early and then found out the show was cancelled for next season.”

  “That’s a bummer. I’m sorry,” she said. “I liked watching Crime Doesn’t Pay: Hawaii.”

  “Yeah. Well, right now it’s not paying for me.” He shoved his glasses up his nose. “My agent already has a line on another show, and until I hear anything, I’m ready for some R&R. Everything looks great around here, as always.”

  “We’ve had good rain, so everything is green. I haven’t smelled any gas leak or seen any water gushing out of your pipes. No one has walked out with your 60 inch TV, either.”

  “Great. Thanks for keeping an eye on the place. Everything else all right? What’s going on at the Goddess?”

  “Nothing out of the usual. Poor David Letterman is in a champagne-induced coma, the Maidens are gearing up for a hula competition—if they can recover from a case of unintentional intestinal poisoning—and Uncle Louie just announced his engagement to Marilyn Lockhart.”

  “That’s why I hate to leave this place.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “No, really. My agent is shopping me to a big cable network where I’d be working on reality TV concept development.”

  “You mean you’ll have to come up with shows like the ones where little people save pit bulls or moms dress toddlers up like show girls to win rhinestone tiaras?”

  “Exactly. There are enough situations percolating in your Uncle’s bar to keep me in ideas for years.” He hoisted the box. “I’ve got some stuff in here I need to put in the freezer. You have time to come in for a drink? I’ll pick your brain.”

  Sophie would be nudging her to take him up on it. He was charming, he had three homes, and he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. But thanks to her ex, she was still leery of men.

  “I need to pick yours too, about your suggestion for us to publish Louie’s Booze Bible of tropical drinks. We don’t even know where to start, but I’ve got a mountain of things piled up in the office.” She thought of Sophie urging her on and added, “But I’ll take a rain check.”

  “Anytime.” He gave her a broad smile and picked up the box again.

  He was good looking for sure, but he couldn’t twirl flaming fire knives.

  19

  Kiki Switches Course

  “What do you mean you’ve decided on a different dance for the competition?”

  Wally Williams—long-time partner of the late world-renowned pianist Fernando—tossed a handful of costume sketches on the table in front of him and threw his hands in the air. The sketches scattered, some drifted to the floor.

  Sophie walked out from behind the bar as soon as she realized trouble was brewing. She hurried across the room to position herself between Wally and Kiki. She watched a bead of sweat escape Wally’s artfully coiffed hair. It looked like he’d cloned Donald Trump’s do.

  The rest of the Maidens huddled in silence around the table. No way was anyone going to speak up. Even their new “Sarge” Pat Boggs waited for Wally and Kiki to sort things out.

  Kiki leaned around Sophie to get into Wally’s face, “I have decided against the Elvis Medley, that’s what I mean.”

  “You can’t switch songs this late in the game. I’ve put too much time into costume designs.”

  “I don’t want to wear a muumuu version of Elvis’s white jumpsuit, that’s all I’m saying. He’d rock and roll over in his grave if he saw your designs.”

  “I worked in Las Vegas, remember? I knew Elvis. You, madam, did not.”

  “What does that have to do with the price of poi?” Kiki wanted to know.

  Pat Boggs beat the snare drum to get their attention. “Kiki, did you just drive in from the far side of stupid? You can’t change the darned song this late in the game. Y’all barely remember the one you already learned. Y’all got memories as long as my dick, and I don’t have one.” She hit the drum hard once to make a point.

  Kiki’s lower lip jutted. Her fingers curled into fists at her side. “If you don’t stop beating that thing . . .”

  Sophie braced herself and wished Em would walk in. “How about we all cool off and listen to each other. Kiki, why change the song now?”

  “I woke up in the middle of the night and I remembered Kawika told me they give extra points for songs in Hawaiian, for songs written by Kauai composers, and songs about Kauai. I remembered one of my neighbors wrote a song about the Hanalei taro fields in Hawaiian, and so I went over early this morning and woke her up and I have permission to use the music.”

  She turned away long enough to fish through her purse and then held up a CD. “It’s only got three verses, and we can learn it in no time.”

  “What about choreography?” Sophie was worried about Wally. He was sweating and panting as if he’d just run a marathon.

  The Maidens waited to hear what Kiki had to say, all but Little Estelle, who had opted to stay home and watch a twenty-four hour Zumba marathon on the Fitness Channel.

  Kiki took a deep breath before she turned to Sophie. “I have most of it worked out, but I was hoping you could help me polish.”

  “This is going to put you behind schedule,” Sophie warned. “I really don’t have time to devote helping you with new choreography right now.”

  “With the Kauai composer’s song we’ll earn a whole lot of points before we even hit the stage.”

  Wally lost steam and sank into the banquette beside Lillian, who had been one of Fernando’s biggest fans.

  “I’ve worked for days on these designs.” Wally indicated the pages on the table and the floor with a limp wave. “Do you know how many episodes of Project Runway I had to sit through to come up with all of this?”

  “I really don’t care,” Kiki sniped. “There was nothing Hawaiian about them except for the shape of the muumuu.”

  “And I’d have made them white jumpsuits if you’d agreed. And what on earth is wrong with rhinestones
and chiffon?”

  “We are not drag queens, that’s what.”

  “Hey!” Pat hit the drum. “None of that. Be civil, lady.”

  Kiki turned on Pat. “I warned you.”

  Before anyone could stop her, Kiki sidestepped the table, grabbed Pat’s drum and heaved it out the open window.

  “What were you thinking?” Pat knelt on the banquette and hung her head out, looking down the gravel driveway. “You busted it!” she yelled. “You owe me a new drum.”

  Just then Louie’s truck pulled in off the highway, headed for the house.

  “Oh no! Hell no!” Pat shouted and waved to Louie, but he didn’t hear her. There was a loud thud and crunching noises as he ran right over the drum and drove on.

  “Yes!” Kiki clapped her hands. “He killed it.”

  All of the Maidens started talking at once after Pat ran out the front door.

  “That’s it!” Sophie shouted. The room went silent. “Kiki, you’ll have to replace that drum.”

  “It was worth it.”

  “You have a point about helping raise your scores, but I think it’s really late to start a new dance.” Sophie turned to Wally. The women were giving her a headache. “Can you design a dress with a taro patch theme?”

  “Taro grows in mud,” he grumbled. “How can I create with that image? My mind is a blank.”

  “Well, I can certainly come up with something,” Kiki announced. “No problem. How about you just help us with makeup on the day of the performance?”

  Wally sniffed. “I suppose that would be all right. Designing won’t be any fun anyway if you don’t use the Elvis routine.”

  “Well, I’m not going to, so get over it.”

  “How long is it gonna take you to have the song ready to teach?” Sophie asked.

  “A couple of days, if you’ll help me.”

  Kiki had put her on the spot. Sophie looked around. The Maidens were waiting for her answer. She couldn’t let them down, not after the way they’d banded together to help prove her innocence a few months ago. She sighed and shook her head.

  “I must be crazy, but all right. I’ll help you with the new song. How about we work on it together tomorrow morning and see how it goes?”

  “Anytime,” Kiki agreed. “In the meantime I’ll make notes and have as much done as I can for your approval.”

  Sophie heard a mournful tapping sound and looked outside. Pat was in the driveway holding her drum. The drumhead was torn off, the rim flattened. She tapped the drumstick against broken wooden shell and mournfully marched through the lot toward her van.

  “I say we adjourn and go into Hanalei for lunch,” Kiki suggested.

  Looking forward to some peace and quiet, Sophie didn’t try to talk them into the pulled pork special. Five minutes after they left, Em walked in from the office with a stack of clean dishtowels.

  “What’s up, Sophie? You look so down even your spikes are drooping.”

  Sophie ran her hand over the gelled points of her hair. They were still standing at attention.

  “Just kidding,” Em said.

  “Nothing but chaos over here this morning. Kiki’s changed the performance number, and Wally’s been taken off of costume design and demoted to sewing and makeup.”

  “I knew that was coming. Where are they?”

  “They all went to lunch in Hanalei.”

  “Good.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I need a Maiden break.”

  A van load of tourists wearing “John Family Reunion” T-shirts followed the male driver inside and lined up behind him in the doorway. Sophie grabbed a pile of menus.

  “Is this where we sign up for Snorkel-O-Rama?”

  “The trip up the Na Pali?” Sophie pointed left. “You have to drive back to Hanalei town, and you’ll see some tour boat offices on the highway.”

  “We never passed a town.”

  Em winked at Sophie. “You did,” she said. “It’s small. A couple blocks of stores and a post office.”

  “I’m hungry,” one of the kids whined.

  “Me, too!” Three more shouted.

  The wife looked around the room and pursed her lips. “I’d rather eat at the hotel.” She sounded just like the whiny kid.

  “If they serve lunch we can eat here. Do you serve lunch?” The man asked.

  “Sure. We have a great mahi mahi sandwich special today,” Sophie said. “And pulled pork.”

  A teenager with ear buds pretended to gag. “I hate fish!”

  “We hate fish.” The younger kids took up the cry.

  The whole group turned and walked out without a word.

  “Aloha. Thanks for coming.” Sophie put the menus back on the bar.

  “Can’t win them all,” Em said. “Is it really going that bad with the Maidens?”

  “Time is running out, Kiki wants to choreograph a whole new song and have the Maidens learn that instead of perfecting an old one.”

  “Any way she’ll listen to reason?”

  “No. She’s on a tear. She not only demoted Wally, she tossed Pat’s drum out the window.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Then Louie ran over it.”

  “He didn’t say anything about it when he came in.”

  “He probably doesn’t even know he did it.”

  “He’s at home mixing up a new drink in honor of the Maidens’ performance at the competition. Trying to make up for Marilyn’s smoothie incident.”

  “Hoping to smoothie the waters?” Sophie went back to the bar.

  “Nicely put.”

  “If I’m going to help Kiki with the dance this week and go to the competition, you need to think about hiring part time help.”

  Sophie left Em alone to mull it over and went to get a bucket of ice out of the ice machine. By the time she returned and dumped ice in the deep bin beneath the bar, Em had a suggestion.

  “What about Buzzy? He’s always here. He’s stood in once or twice in an emergency and seems capable of handling his handyman work. He’d probably fill in once in a while for free beer.”

  “How will you keep him from drinking while he’s behind the bar? Besides, the last time he was in he told me he was dating a dolphin.”

  Em laughed. “It sounded like you said he was dating a dolphin.”

  “I did. He is. Or so he claims. She lives at Tunnels. They commune telepathically.”

  “Please tell me he’s not having sex with her.”

  “Not yet. She wants to get to know him better.”

  20

  I Spy a Rat Close By

  Two days later Kiki felt like the dance was ready and called the Maidens together for a morning practice.

  She refused to call Pat Boggs but Sophie had. Kiki put Pat to work running the boom box and keeping the girls in step, which freed Kiki up to fine tune the movements. Suffering the loss of her drum, Pat improvised with an empty Crisco can that Kimo had in the kitchen.

  As the music played, Pat would occasionally yell, “Freeze!” and stop the CD player. The dancers froze, and Kiki would run around between them and adjust their arms and hands to the correct positions.

  Wally sat at a table in the far back corner with Little Estelle. The pair was busy cutting taro leaves out of two three foot stacks of green felt squares. Kiki’s plan was to sew each of them onto silver and aqua colored muumuus to represent taro patches. The felt leaves would flutter as the Maidens moved.

  “Hit it,” Kiki said.

  Pat hit play on the boom box. The Maidens started dancing. Sophie worked behind the bar but was on call in case Kiki needed her. Wally and Little Estelle were busy whispering about the dancers and cutting out leaves. Kiki was in shock; for the moment, all was right in her world.


  They danced for another twenty minutes, stopping, starting, adjusting. Everyone but Lillian was making headway. A tall Hawaiian in a tank top, shorts and rubber slippers walked through the door with a bulging black Hefty bag slung over his shoulder. Kiki asked Pat to stop the music.

  “Hi, Benny.”

  He dropped the bag on the floor. “Here you go, Kiki. A t’ousand kukui leaves. Is Kimo in da back?”

  “For sure. He’s got a big pan of ahi poke for you. Mahalo for these.” She opened the bag and peeked inside. A pan of seasoned raw ahi tuna was a small price to pay for the leaves she needed.

  Benny smiled and waved at all the Maidens as he went toward the kitchen.

  “Take a break everybody. Gather round.” Kiki pulled a handful of leaves out of the bag. “These are kukui leaves. We’re going to make head lei out of them for the competition.”

  “They’re gonna wilt by then.” Flora picked up a five pointed leaf and rubbed it between her fingers.

  “We’re making one lei each this afternoon for practice and another the night before the competition.”

  “What?” Suzi stopped texting and looked up from her phone. “Two head lei workshops? Why? I can’t do anything this afternoon. I have a meeting.”

  “I want everyone at my house this afternoon for the mandatory workshop,” Kiki said.

  “I need some notice ahead of time, Kiki. I have a job, you know,” Suzi said.

  “Making adornments is part of the competition.”

  “I’ll make it for her,” Trish volunteered. “I don’t have to work until I shoot a wedding tonight at Hanalei Colony.”

  “That’s not the point.” Kiki took a deep breath. “All of you need the experience of making your head lei.”

  “I hate crafts,” Big Estelle said.

  “I gotta get home. I’m having the shakes,” Little Estelle called out.

  “Then put those scissors down before you cut off a finger,” Wally warned.

  “I’m having Zumba withdrawals,” she said.

  “Can’t we pay someone to make our head lei?” Suzi wasn’t going to give up.