by Eve Gaal
A restless goddess. Her heart skipped a beat at the realization that she herself was restless. “I guess I know how she feels,” Penny said wiggling her toes. Those toes had brought her everywhere she ever wanted to go, including this magical land of enchantment. Maybe her defiant act of leaving would shake some sense into John, who should be up here holding her hand right now. Maybe her dad would appreciate her, maybe Tina would stop pressuring her and maybe Ron would learn how to manage his department and use his backbone to spread the workload. The time had come for her to reposition her priorities and if that meant unleashing the demons that tied her to a boring life at home, well then so be it.
Everything she left behind started flowing back into her mind like hot, molten lava. Why should she hurry home to a bunch of ingrates who took her for granted while expecting her to be positively, perfectly predictable? Finding her destiny may not have anything to do with the same people she always worried about. They would have to learn to take care of themselves. The goddess in her knew that life could offer her more if she stuck to her dreams and dared to seek out unique opportunities.
Looking out over some cruise ships in the harbor she asked, “What's that?” She pointed several miles off the coast to a small green island.
“That's Niihau, a deserted island, with very few residents. Do you want to fly over it?” Swooping down over waving surfers, Mac hovered above a school of dolphins playing on whitecaps, before heading out towards the open sea.
Giggling at the dolphins and the surfers, she looked over at Mac, “Cool–but first explain why I should go to Hilo? I just want to go to Honolulu and go home.” Her words were soft and slightly skewed into a lie. The truth was, she felt uncomfortable thinking about Darin's stubborn attempt to set her up with an 'advertising dream job', but that didn't mean she wanted to rush home. He can take his gold-plated ticket to Hilo and….
Interrupting her thoughts, Mac asked, “What?” He had been off and on with someone on the radio, and didn't hear a word Penny had said. “Did you say you want to see Niihau?”
“Yes, yes, sorry, this is all so amazing.” She needed to relax and enjoy this moment for herself. This was her time to appreciate the contrast of blue ocean against lush jungle. Besides, the truth was, the goddess in her didn't want to head home just yet.
“Penny, I just do what I'm told and I was told to give you a ticket to Hilo after a personal tour of the local area.” Listening to something in his headphones, he reported his location and then asked, “Are you having fun?”
“Of course,” she smiled, looking down at flashing schools of fish.
“Darin's not really my boss, but he's friends with the people who give my company air-travel time and even advertising in return for emergency air rescue service when it's needed. We also served together in Desert Storm.” Pausing and all of a sudden looking very grim, he continued, “Darin's great, but he's not the same guy I knew on base.” Quiet and serious, Mac finally smiled, “Right now you're a tourist but since this is a comp, they want me to log it as air rescue.” He stopped and fiddled with his controls looking very intense. “Excuse me, Penny, I've got a call.” He turned off the microphone and started speaking to someone on the line.
She could hear Mac apologizing about something and decided to watch ahead for the approaching island. Waves splashed against the coastline, seals frolicked playfully near tide pools and seagulls played with seaweed on the sand. Mac yelled and cursed into his receiver, “I'm nowhere near there, I just left Waiamea.” Penny watched him slowly hover above a small strip of sand near a rocky beach. “I know you said it's an emergency, but–oh forget it– I'll be there in an hour.” Landing the chopper, he turned on his microphone and said, “Penny, I've got a real emergency. I have to go.” A tiny cloud fogged over her sparkling emerald eyes. “I'm sorry, do you think you could enjoy some quality beach time on this beautiful island?” He asked, glancing at his instrument panel. “It looks like a great place to start working on your tan,” he said with a wink, reaching for her bag so she wouldn't forget it.
“I've got it,” she said, pulling the bag away and feeling slightly perturbed. “I thought you were going to at least take me to the airport.” Pushing the door open, she jumped out onto the warm swirling sand and closed her eyes.
“I was, I promise, but I have an emergency, please understand,” he shouted. “Oh wait, just in case they send someone else after you.” He reached into his pocket, leaned down and handed her some papers. “Here's that ticket to Hilo.” Glancing at his watch, he said, “I've really got to go Red. Don't worry, everything will be fine. This is a gorgeous place and I think you'll really love it. Just don't talk to anyone.”
“Aren't you coming back?” She yelled up to Mac. A real dragonfly would have dropped her off at home. Instead, she felt stranded on what looked like a deserted island. Everything about this vacation made her feel like she had entered the Twilight Zone, or maybe, she observed, she had found Atlantis.
“I think I'll be back, but it might be someone else, that's all. Bye.” Waving goodbye, he spoke rapidly into his radio.
“Wait,” Penny screamed before closing the door. Looking around she didn't see anyone on the island. Far off in the distance she saw a few rustic buildings. “Why can't I talk to anyone?”
He leaned over to pull the door closed and started ascending up off the whirling powder. He hovered above, and though her eyes were closed, she heard his answer come through the speakers loud and clear. “Because it's forbidden.”
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Six
Every woman has an Achilles heel. Her ex-friend Bonnie had warned her about pilots. “Some of them are disgusting dogs with a bitch near every airport,” she repeated over and over using various colorful adjectives that used to make her laugh. Amusingly shocked by her friend's descriptive language, she had completely missed the point. Of course, Arlene figured, ten years at the airlines made her friend jaded and old fashioned, almost as if Bonnie watched the world on a tiny fifties style television rather than the theater style sixty-inch she enjoyed at Dan's townhouse. Her retort to Bonnie was that dogs were loyal and it was the crabby men she wanted to avoid. His looks alone were worth the trouble, she rationalized. Plus he had a wonderful sense of humor. Then there was the whole uniform thing–making her heart leap like virgin elk bouncing through a forest in spring. Bonnie had rolled her eyes and raised her voice as they fought over the stupidity of men in general, while debating Dan's obvious flirtations. The drinks didn't help the simmering discussion and pretty soon, Bonnie started treating her like the stupid one. “Don't marry him, you'll be sorry,” she had said after her second White Russian.
“He can't help being irresistible to everyone,” she had told Bonnie during their escalating argument. “There's nothing he can do about it,” she remembered shouting defensively across the shaking booth at Bennigan's Bar and Grill.
Then Bonnie yelled back, her eyes flashed as soft tendrils of hair moved erratically around her face, making her seem animated and alive with a deepening fury. “Are you nuts? You act like he's a victim–please spare me.” A second later, Bonnie told her to shove it. Sad, how one fight ruined their long lasting college friendship. When she stormed out of the restaurant and left her with the bill, Bonnie had also left her with a mysterious feeling that hung above her like a nimbus cloud full of rain. The cloud clung mysteriously and made her wonder about her friend's passionate wrath against pilots. Bonnie and Dan? Nah, but something strange kept whispering doubtful ideas that she didn't want to hear.
Sitting in the strange military airfield, she thought about her life and in retrospect, she hated every inch of her friend Bonnie for being right. Admitting defeat were actions for generals, presidents and perhaps a discarded pilot's wife. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him to re-grout the bathtub.
Every time she tried thinking of something positive, her mind hit a brick wall faster than the small planes landing on the tarmac outside the window. Dan had turn
ed into a complete crab. A hermit crab, who kept his own hours, had his own room and called when he felt like it. “I didn't want to bother you, precious,” he'd say, arriving home for breakfast with flowers in one hand and fresh squeezed orange juice in the other. Every time she questioned his negligence towards her, he brushed it off with his bad boy smile and told her the weather over the Rockies or the currents from the Gulf were affecting flight schedules.
“You know, I'd rather be with you than in a cockpit, precious,” he'd mumble. Playing with her hair and gently caressing her forearms, he'd wrap his claws around her in a tight embrace. Sometimes she'd cook for him and try to surprise him with a homemade gourmet meal, but he'd call to say he might be running late and he didn't feel like eating anyway. Marriage had to be something better than this preposterous relationship she shared with Dan. He worked the majority of holidays, most weekends and he rarely visited her parent's house for dinner.
The hardest part to accept was that some of the blame fell on her too. When she saw his face, for example, she forgave him and she'd immediately start gushing about how much she loved having him home. Soon she'd have a laundry list of chores that needed to be done before he disappeared into the sky. The bank called about the mortgage, the screen door fell off its hinges, the smoke alarm needed batteries and similar minor things associated with marital home maintenance. She wasn't blind. His face betrayed him with a look of annoyance that slowly crept into his eyes, while his impatience multiplied regarding the chores. He attempted to remind her about the differences between a pilot and a handyman but not in a nice, humorous or kind way, but in a commanding, mean and belittling way. He made her feel as if she sat around all day just plotting out miserable things to pester him about. The egotistical bastard acted superior, she surmised, maybe more like a king crab.
The military airstrip stepped up duty, filling with diverted flights from Honolulu International. Smoke and ash had sent the holiday travelers scrambling and scurrying to find connecting flights to the mainland. Large 747 planes were still allowed to fly into Honolulu, but the commuters, island hoppers, and all small aircraft were brought to Dillingham. Arlene started crying and thinking about how everything in her world would have to change. This trip marked the end of her marriage, and it was time to face the truth about the crabby dog and his bitches.
Throngs of people rushed around her like sand crabs, pushing and pulling luggage like recently unearthed goodies soon to disappear into a hole or taken home to happy, waiting family members where delightful gifts would make recipients smile. Arlene however, wasn't smiling. Salty tears blurred the sea of colorful Hawaiian shirts into a stylized Monet painting, but her insides felt like that poor guy painted in 'The Scream' by Edvard Munch.
She heard a familiar voice and looked up through her tears. “Precious, is that you?” Dan approached, wearing a blue floral shirt, pushing his luggage and carrying a huge tote bag from Kona Kattie's. Looking up, she envisioned his face as a soft-shell blue crab, coming nearer and nearer with piercing, menacing claws.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Seven
A flight attendant, with bright red lipstick, gently nudged John, “You're in Honolulu sir, we've touched down and everyone is disembarking. Can I help you with anything?”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, trying to wake up. “No—a—thanks,” he mumbled. Standing quickly, he almost bumped his aching head into the overhead compartment. As he slowly headed for the exit, he wondered how he had allowed that wild woman, Tina to talk him into crossing the ocean. He turned around to the flight attendant still behind him, “I was traveling with a tall lady and my dad, would you know where I could find them?”
She bit her lip to indicate she was thinking about his request. “Hmmm, I haven't heard about anyone looking for you, unless they were in first class.” Then reassuringly patting his shoulder she said, “Hold on let me ask Dora, my supervisor.” He clung to the seats in the aisle and waited for her very long walk back from the front of the jet. Finally, she returned with a smile and said, “No one asked about you up front either, but maybe they'll be waiting for you at the gate.”
“Thanks for asking,” John answered, squeezing the railing with both hands as he disembarked. Balmy breezes pulled gently on his bandages, and he thought he probably looked like he just walked off the set of a horror movie. Stepping around someone's carryon luggage, he heard the flight attendant's cheerful voice pierce his ghoulish nightmare.
“Trying to please, that's what we do, sir. Merry Christmas.” She winked, and waved, as he exited into the bustling airport, where hundreds of people waited for cancelled flights to resume. Maybe he'd wake up in the hospital, when the medication wore off, he was thinking. Was he actually in Hawaii?
A friendly looking older woman reached over his head, and placed a lei around his neck. “Aloha,” she said and then she moved over to the next person and put a lei over their neck. “Aloha,” John heard her say, “Aloha, Aloha,” over and over again fading into the background as he headed toward the street.
Outside at the curb, tourists rushed to waiting taxicabs lining the street in the loading zone. Palm trees swayed in the warm breeze and tropical birds made loud cawing noises high up in their branches. The sounds, the unusually muggy weather and the crowds were conspiring to make his head swirl in confusion. Completely at a loss about where he should begin his search for Tina and Penny's dad, he wandered back into the terminal where he decided to buy a magazine. Most of all, he really wanted to sit down. Maybe, he reasoned, if he sat in a conspicuous spot, they could easily find each other.
The flight attendant with the red lips stood ahead of him in line at the gift shop. Smiling, she turned and said, “Hi, I guess I'm stranded for a while. How about you? Did you find your dad?”
John didn't feel like elaborating. “No.” So far this week of his life had morphed into a late night fright festival and all he wanted was to have his typically normal and relatively boring life back, with his relatively normal but creative girlfriend. Miss red lips kept staring at him wanting to talk. The loud rumble of jets taking off and landing, announcements and the sound of the register ringing up another sale filled the crowded store, but awkward silence loomed between John and the smiling flight attendant.
“Great lei,” she said, trying to converse.
“What?” He had heard rumors of liberated and loose flight attendants, but her comment made him uncomfortable. Mortified, he glanced around, feeling her gaze upon him and after looking at the ground, he finally looked up at the sexy flight attendant. Her snug uniform, the name badge that said Heidi and the telltale red lipstick, all pointed at trouble and more trouble at this juncture simply didn't sound enticing. In fact, whatever Heidi was suggesting was the furthest thing in his cracked up brain.
“You're blushing,” she said, pointing to the flowers around his neck. “This is a lei, but I guess you didn't know that, sorry.”
Humbled, John smiled, “Wow, you learn something every day.” These lessons were becoming painful, he thought, thinking of Penny. “I think you're the one who's blushing,” he said. Why can't she be here? Did someone kidnap her and lock her into a dungeon without cell phone reception? Why would she abandon him and leave him alone like this? He had no clothes, no baggage and no one to talk to about anything. He had to talk to someone, anyone, even if she looked like a very alluring television actress with almond-shaped, exotic eyes. Even if her perfect nose had a pale, sprinkling of freckles and her lips were ready for a Hollywood close-up. “Do you want to grab some coffee?”
She paid the cashier, looked him in the eye and said, “I would love some coffee.”
* * *
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jumping up from his desk, Darin rushed over to his favorite stripper. “What are you doing here, Miliani?” Wearing a green tank, old cut-off shorts and matching green flip-flops, she could have been anyone's little sister. Two thick, long braids hung on either sides of her head, and she held a paper cup i
n each hand.
“Just want to bring you a mocha-latte this morning. I had so much fun, and I think you did too.” She handed him the coffee and he set it on his desk.
“Yes, of course,” he said, pulling her close and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I want to show you something.” He took her coffee, set it down next to his and slowly dragged her down a hallway to an unused sales office. The window shade was drawn, and a small window on the door had been covered and taped over with an old Corolla brochure. As soon as he locked the door behind her, he started taking his tie off, and she didn't hesitate pulling off her tank top to reveal her gorgeous orbs of tan flesh.
Within seconds, his hands were all over her, as she lay naked and supine on the desk, legs wrapped around him, enjoying every ravishing moment. Meanwhile, the paging system blared loudly above them.
“Mr. Martin, you have a customer at the front desk.” The young operator's voice filled the room.
Ignoring the page, Darin thrust everything he could into Miliani who shuddered under his weight, moving the desk loudly across the office towards the wall.
“Mr. Martin, customer at the front desk.”
Absorbing every inch of her beauty, he drank in the luscious fragrance of gardenia rising from her warm, perspiring skin. The desk moved noisily towards the wall.
“Oh Da-win,” she almost screamed, her accent thicker, her breath shorter. “Give me more. Yes.” Her hips rose and started shaking, but Darin stopped, turned her over and plunged into her from behind. Gripping the desk, Miliani tried not to yell, but the desk now knocked violently against the office next door.