Two To Mango

by Jill Marie Landis

  “Bunch of pussy toad whiners.” Pat tapped out a rat-a-tat-tat on the can.

  As the women argued among themselves, Kiki bent over to tie a knot in the kukui leaf bag. When she straightened up, she noticed the office door was open about an inch. A red glowing dot inside the otherwise shadowy room caught her eye. It reminded her of the way a rat’s eyes lit up when hit by a beam of light.

  But if there was a rat in the office, its eye was a good five feet above the floor.

  She was looking at one big rat of the two-legged variety.

  With as much nonchalance as she could muster, Kiki strolled over to the bar.

  “Sophie, did you say Em was in town?”

  “Yeah. Louie, too. They went to pick up some extra stuff for the art show tonight. The bread dough artist is coming in later to set up so you all can’t be here too long.”

  Kiki let her gaze flick over to the office door for a beat and then continued to make her way along the bar, moving casually. She was able to approach the door without being seen.

  She was creeping along with her back pressed against the wall beside the door when Pat suddenly noticed. Kiki put her finger to her lips, but it was too late.

  “What in the world are you doing, Kiki?” Pat asked.

  Cover blown, Kiki gave a Ninja shout, raised her foot and kicked the door all the way open. There was a cry and a crash behind it. Kiki rushed in and found Marilyn spread-eagled on the floor on her back. A camera lay a few feet away.

  “I knew it!” Kiki cried. “I saw someone spying on us.” She planted her hands on her hips. “You. You are beyond despicable, Marilyn Lockhart.”

  “I am not!”

  There was a stampede to the office door. Everyone but Wally crowded around. He kept right on cutting out felt taro leaves.

  “I can’t see! I can’t see!” Stuck behind them all, Little Estelle started tooting the Gad-About horn.

  As the Maidens flanked Kiki, she grabbed Marilyn’s camera and waited for the woman to pick herself up off the floor. A trickle of blood slid out of her nose. Marilyn wiped it off, looked at her hand and whimpered.

  “You could have killed me!”

  “She was filming the practice through a crack in the door,” Kiki explained.

  Marilyn tried to grab the camera. “I was not.”

  “The camera light was glowing like the eye of a big fat rat!”

  “You’re crazy,” Marilyn sniffed. “You’ve finally lost it, Kiki.”

  Kiki held up the camera for all to see.

  “Me? I’m crazy? I don’t think so.” She turned the camera over and fiddled with it for a minute then handed it to Trish. “Can you work this thing?”

  “Probably.” Trish studied the buttons.

  “It’s broken,” Marilyn sniffed.

  “You wish,” Kiki said.

  Flora, in a muumuu that made her look like a rainbow had exploded on her, drifted away from the group and sat down on one of the carved tiki bar stools. She tried to order a burger and fries, but Sophie told her to hold on a second.

  “Got it.” Trish started the playback on the video. The women pressed closer. Kiki smiled triumphantly as the proof unfolded before their eyes.

  “Oh, Marilyn,” Trish didn’t hide her disappointment. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

  “Did she?” Big Estelle wanted to know. “Did she film our dance?”

  Trish nodded. “She did.”

  “Everybody move. I’ll run ’er down,” Little Estelle yelled.

  “How could you?” Big Estelle asked Marilyn.

  Little Estelle thought her daughter was talking to her. “It’s easy. I’ll just put the Gad-About in drive and floor it.”

  “I’m going to be late for my appointment.” Suzi walked back to her table to get her notebook and purse and then suddenly stopped. “Someone promise to call me if Kiki kills her.”

  “I will,” Trish promised.

  Kiki grabbed Marilyn’s arm and started tugging her toward the bar. Marilyn started bawling and shouted, “No! Let me go.”

  Before Kiki knew it, Sophie and Pat Boggs had flanked her.

  “Let her go, Kiki,” Sophie ordered.

  “No! We have to deal with this. Call 911. Let’s tie her to a chair until the police get here.”

  “Tie her to the back of the Gad-About, and I’ll drag her around the parking lot!” Little Estelle clapped with glee.

  Sophie put her hand on Kiki’s arm. “What are you doing?”

  “She has to pay! She could have ruined our chances to redeem ourselves.”

  Pat smiled and hooked her thumbs into her pockets. “When’s the last time y’all hung somebody in this town?”

  “This isn’t just a bar, this is a restaurant, and we’ll be serving lunch soon. We can’t have this mob hysteria going on in here,” Sophie warned. “Now let her go.” She turned to Marilyn. “You owe Kiki and these ladies an apology, and then you need to leave.”

  “She’s not getting away with this!” Kiki felt her eyes start to bulge. They were actually throbbing in their sockets, and she was trembling uncontrollably.

  Sophie turned to Trish. “Erase the video of Kiki’s choreography.”

  Trish pushed buttons, waited, then nodded. “Done.”

  “Now give Marilyn her camera,” Sophie said. Trish did.

  Kiki was about to blow. “Who were you filming for? Jackie Boo Song? I mean . . . Jackie Loo Tong?”

  “I didn’t think it would matter,” Marilyn shrugged.

  “Then why hide in the office like the rat you are. Why not come in, sit down, and say you wanted to film us? Because you knew it was wrong. You were spying for your new kumu.”

  Marilyn remained stubbornly mute and stared daggers at Kiki.

  “That choreography belongs to me and Sophie.” Kiki was nose to nose with Marilyn now. “It’s against every rule of hula and ethics to tape someone else’s dance and copy it. Even if you didn’t know that, Jackie Too Long certainly does. I mean Jackie Loo Tong.”

  Marilyn looked like she might burst into tears, but the way she was glaring, Kiki knew they were fake. There was no apology coming either. Then again, rats never apologized.

  21

  Speaking in Tongues

  Em walked into the bar with Louie right behind her. They’d made a quick trip to town and unloaded the car. It had been a pleasant, normal experience. She should have known that bliss would be shattered the minute she saw the Maidens’ cars in the lot.

  “What’s wrong, Marilyn honey?” Louie hurried to her side and tried to get Marilyn to look at him.

  “Your precious fiancée here was filming our competition dance for her new kumu, that’s what,” Kiki said.

  Louie’s jaw dropped. “That can’t be true.” He turned to Marilyn again. “Can it?”

  A strangled cry that sounded like an immature rooster’s first crow burst out of Marilyn before she shoved Louie aside, pushed past Em, and ran out the back door.

  Louie ran out after her, his aloha shirt flapping.

  Suddenly Kiki reached for Em and grabbed onto her arm. Her mouth opened and closed like a grouper, then she started panting. It looked like she was trying to say something, but her mouth wasn’t working.

  “Calm down, Kiki,” Em told her. “No harm done, right? How about we get you a drink?” She turned to Sophie. “Medicinal martini. Quick.”

  Kiki sputtered. “Sthgudbeita. Kakapatazila.”

  Pat slapped herself in the forehead. “Holy crap. She’s speaking in tongues.”

  Everyone was staring.

  “Pull yourself together, Kiki,” Em urged.

  “Yeah, calm down,” Pat advised. “If you killed Marilyn, the worst that could happen is that you’d end up in jai
l, but a stroke will ruin your dancing.”

  “The Defector isn’t worth jail or a stroke,” Little Estelle said.

  “You think we’re still going to have to make those leis today?” Big Estelle asked no one in particular. “If not, I’m taking mother home.”

  Em could tell Kiki was still seething.

  “Plumuffcaditpla!” Kiki suddenly yelled. Her eyes were wide and panicked as she slapped her palm over her mouth.

  “Seeing as how Kiki can’t string a sentence together at the moment, I say you’re all dis-missed.” Pat saluted. Everyone but Trish collected their things and ran.

  Em lead Kiki over to the bar and helped her onto a barstool beside Flora.

  “I’m going to leave you right here for a minute. Sophie will get you a double martini with extra olives while I go tell Kimo he needs to take you home.”

  Kiki tried to protest but only managed, “Bulahlapopa.”

  Em watched Sophie fill a martini glass with ice to chill it down for Kiki’s drink.

  “You’re sending Kimo home?” Sophie didn’t try to hide her panic. “It’s almost time for the lunch crowd. There may be a cruise ship van coming in.”

  “We can’t let her drive in this condition. She can’t even talk.” Em leaned over the bar and whispered, “Do you think we should call 911?”

  “N . . . ne . . . no!” Kiki shook her head. “No neen on on.”

  “I’ll drive her home,” Trish volunteered. “She’ll be all right. This happened one other time when we were performing at a party in somebody’s driveway, and it started to pour rain. Kiki ran to save the boom box, and when she pulled the plug there was an electrical arc, and she was thrown clear across the driveway. Only spoke gibberish then too. It wore off in a few minutes, and she was fine.”

  Sophie set a very full martini on the bar. Kiki slid it toward herself and sucked down half the glass without lifting it. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “Bebba. Mooch bebba.”

  Sophie started frantically clicking the stud in her tongue and turned around. Em made sure Trish had Kiki under control then she ran through the office and out the back door. She found Louie with Marilyn beside her car.

  “I thought you loved me,” Marilyn cried.

  “I do, but right now I don’t know who you are.” Louie was glummer than Em had ever seen him. His arms hung limp at his sides, his head was bowed.

  “Those women hate me.” Marilyn reached up and played with the top button on his aloha shirt, but Louie didn’t touch her. “I don’t know why, but they do. I’ve tried being nice, but nothing works, so when my new kumu asked if I would help him out, I agreed. I didn’t know it was wrong.”

  Em wondered how Jackie Loo Tong could see the Hula Maidens as competition. Just how far would the man go to win? She hoped she hadn’t urged Kiki to enter the Maidens in a competition that might literally prove to be dangerous.

  She could see Louie weakening.

  “You’d better leave, Marilyn,” she said. “Let everyone cool off a bit.”

  Marilyn turned to Louie. “Honey? Do you really want me to go like this?”

  Louie’s shoulders sagged. “It’s probably the best thing to do right now . . . maybe . . .” He glanced at Em. She turned away but wasn’t about to leave him alone with Marilyn. “Maybe we should call off the engagement. Just for now. Until things settle down.”

  “But . . .” Marilyn started sobbing into her hands.

  Louie looked like he might give in and invite Marilyn over. Em ached for him but didn’t mind playing the heavy. There was no telling what Kiki would do if she ran into Marilyn right away.

  “I think you’d better go, Marilyn. Please,” Em said. “Louie needs some time to think this through.”

  Still crying, Marilyn took her car keys out of her pocket and got into her Lexus. Louie gave her a forlorn wave as she backed out of the parking stall, but she didn’t look at him. She was pulling onto the highway when Sophie popped her head out of the back door.

  “You better get in here, Em. The bread art guy just showed up and so did your cop. Kiki wants Marilyn arrested.”

  “Are you all right?” Em asked Louie.

  “Sure.” He shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his baggy linen shorts. “Go ahead. I’ll go to the house and work on a new drink. Take my mind off of things.”

  “Take it easy on Dave. Not too many samples for either of you, okay?”

  “Right. I’ll be over in a bit.”

  “No hurry.” She hustled back over to the bar where she found Roland cornered by Kiki. The usual spray of flowers in her hair was quivering. Her pareau was drifting dangerously south and needed a good tug up over her breasts. If Roland noticed, he didn’t let on. He kept his focus on the small notebook in his hand as Kiki waved her arms and opened her mouth.

  “S . . . hehehe . . . neeeeeds . . . gooooo . . . jaaaaaail.”

  “You want to press charges?” Roland tried to take a step back but was up against a table. Em hurried across the room.

  “What happened?” He looked at Em the way a drowning man eyes a life ring floating toward him.

  Em let Sophie explain the situation in as few words as possible. When she was finished Roland shook his head.

  “Really, Kiki?” The corner of his mouth lifted. “You want me to jail someone for videotaping a hula?”

  “Yessssss. Yessssss.” Cobra like, Kiki slowly swung her head back and forth then up and down hissing the word. “Law ginst. Against. It. Stealing.”

  “I don’t think there’s an actual law on the books against it, but I can understand why you’d be upset. How about I swing by Ms. Lockart’s place and give her a stern warning?”

  “Not . . . good . . . enough.” Kiki shook her head no.

  “I’m afraid it’s going to have to be. I’ll give her a stern warning, and you concentrate on getting your ladies ready for the competition.”

  Em helped Kiki to a booth closer to the kitchen and went to talk to Kimo, who assured her his wife would be fine as soon as she calmed down. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  When Em returned to the bar, Roland was still on the threshold.

  “I’ve got to run,” he said.

  “Sorry you can’t stay. I owe you a lunch for this.”

  “All in a day’s work.”

  Just then Marco the bread artist came up the steps with an armload of boxes. Em introduced them and then told Marco he could put the boxes in her office. He went on through.

  Em turned to Roland again. “This competition is driving the Maidens crazy.”

  “How can you tell? They always seem crazy to me.”

  “Good point.” She thought he seemed hesitant to leave. “You sure you don’t want to stay for lunch?”

  “I do, but I can’t.”

  She caught herself staring until Marco walked back out of the bar.

  “I’m going to need some help,” he told her. “I’ve got a right hand and a couple of heads left to bring in.”

  Em looked up at Roland again. “Go,” she said. “Around here insanity is infectious.”

  22

  Practice Makes Perfect

  The lobby of the Island Holidays Resort was filled with carefully placed columns and potted palms, perfect hiding places for Kiki to avoid the Maidens. Earlier they’d come straggling into the hotel toting all of their hula gear like a lost tribe. As soon as they were all settled in their rooms they started assailing her with questions.

  She peeked around the column. None of the girls were in the lobby, so Kiki darted to a potted palm then made a run for the bar in the Island Fantasy lounge. She spotted an empty chair and plopped.

  “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

  Kiki groaned. Lillian was
suddenly standing over her, clutching the front of her pareau.

  “What is it, Lillian?”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be in line to go into our rehearsal on the stage by now?”

  Kiki looked at the clock on the wall behind the bar. “You are supposed to be in line. I have twenty minutes.” Time for a cocktail or two if she chugged them.

  “They said we get badges. Where are the badges? And how about passes? I bought a pass for MyBob, and he’ll need it to get into the competition. Do you have them? Do you have the programs? I thought we were getting programs.”

  “And what about T-shirts?” Suzi appeared beside Lillian waving a piece of cardboard around. “I heard we get complementary T-shirts. Do you have them? I’m going to have everyone put their room numbers on this chart so we’ll know where to find them. What’s your room number, Kiki?”

  “I was first.” Lillian’s lower lip quivered.

  Kiki rubbed her temples and sighed. “When I get the packets, you’ll get your stinking badges, Lillian.”

  Lillian snuffled and scurried away.

  “That was cold, Kiki.” Suzi watched Lillian leave.

  “You are all driving me crazy.” Her head was splitting. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  Suzi sat in the empty chair next to Kiki’s, her room chart momentarily forgotten. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Order me a drink, and tell me why we’re doing this again.”

  Suzi waved to the waitress.

  “We’re here to repair our reputation. You have to admit, since the Marilyn smoothie debacle, things have been going great. We have three coolers full of flowers, and we know what to do with them, thanks to you and Wally and your lei making workshop. And so far, Pat’s backed you up and has been keeping the peace. Lillian’s only cried four times. Who knew Wally would be so good at weaving haku leis? And he helped you sew all those felt leaves on the dresses.”

  “By the time we finished I was thinking Spandex Elvis jumpsuits covered in rhinestones would have been simpler,” Kiki mumbled.

  She’d made the aqua taro patch gowns for Suzi, Flora, Trish, Lillian, Big Estelle and herself. She’d crafted a ke kepa, for Pat Boggs to tie over her shirt and an extra dress for Little Estelle after she threw a fit and threatened to disrupt the performance if she didn’t get one.