Hawaii Five Uh-Oh

by Z. A. Maxfield

  Things would have been so different if he’d stayed with his mother. It always came back to that.

  Why, if his mother thought Hawai‘i was so awesome, did she let her only son leave it? He was Hawai‘ian too. Up until now, he’d never had the nerve to ask her why. To be fair, this was the first time he’d been in a position to ask since he’d matured enough to wonder about such things. He was no friend of the phone.

  “How come you let Dad take me?” he asked.

  “You wanted to go.” She said it like he should remember better than she did. “You wanted to be with John.”

  Is that how she remembers it? Sagging against his rock backrest, studying the spangled indigo of the sky, he scrolled through the many memories he had—of living in this house with his mom and dad and a shiba inu named Mukluk. Had he wanted to go? No… but he’d been so angry with her for staying.

  Long-buried guilt nudged him. He’d been ten. He’d been furious at his parents’ breakup, which happened in the wake of a crime that hit too close to home. He’d wanted her to come with them, so he might have given the impression that he didn’t think much of the place she called home. He might, for example, have said something like, Why do you even want to stay on this lame-ass island? Nothing good ever happens here!

  He’d been a naive kid, but not a dumb one. He’d felt like a pawn in their game of divorce, and for years he’d taken his revenge by ghosting the parent who stayed behind and tormenting the one he was with. The anguish of his father’s death hit him hard, again. Not tormenting. He’d been a good son until the end—even by his father’s standards.

  He couldn’t help being a reminder of things his father would have preferred to forget. Theo had carried his childhood and the image of his mother to the mainland with him. She was right there in his face. In his eyes. He had her build. The big wide vowels of their language. If his father resented him for that—as he often said when he’d been drinking—there was nothing Theo could have done about it.

  Yet, here, he reminded his mother of Chon “John” Hsu. He had his father’s bearing. He wore the uniform. The parts of him that were angular and not warm belonged to his father. He’d been his parents’ Kryptonite, no matter what he did. But it was all such a long time ago.

  “You get to ride a Segway?”

  “Nope. I walk. Dad would be so proud to have a son back here, walking the beat, keeping the tourists from urinating on public property.”

  “He would.” She ignored his sarcasm, which was suspect because Mom didn’t exactly like his job. She accepted it because she didn’t believe it was her place to object. It wasn’t. He hadn’t warmed up to his forbidding stepfather yet either, and it sure as hell wasn’t his right to say anything about that.

  They’d straddled all kinds of lines—between cultures, between families, between the sexes and the many religions that abounded on the island. He was her family, but he didn’t belong to his stepfather’s. She had remarried, but she wanted to spend time with him now that he’d returned.

  On top of that, his mother acted subtly weird with men in general, all soft and girly, when everyone knew she had a first-rate education, ran several businesses, and frankly he wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley if he forgot to take out the trash.

  If his stepfather’s favorite new game was pretending he should have the right to tell Theo’s mother how to wear her hair or whatever, Theo might recognize it for the romantic mess it was. He might even understand if they enjoyed things that way.

  But he needed to leave.

  “I found an apartment.” He broke the news.

  “Oh.” She was disappointed. Of course she was. She’d liked having most of her chicks in the nest. Of all of them, she wanted him there—the unmarried, awkward duckling son who would never have a woman to take care of him.

  She pressed her lips together. “You aren’t even trying.”

  He admitted, “I am probably not trying. You’re right.”

  If he looked inward, he could see he wasn’t doing enough to bridge the communications gap forming between himself and his stepfather.

  He tried to explain. “Look, you know that old saying? Sometimes there isn’t enough room for two women in one house.”

  “Who said that?” Her bright black birdlike eyes sparkled. “It wasn’t a man, I bet?”

  He hid his smile. “I think Gary resents my presence. And I think he has a point. I’m a grown man. I have a good job. So I got a place of my own. It’s close, and it’s furnished, but you can still help me put on the finishing touches or whatever. It’s time. I’m here to stay. Gotta start building a life.”

  The silence lengthened while she eyed him. He felt as if he’d brought home an iffy report card, or gotten sent to the principal’s office or something. Finally she spoke.

  “You are old enough to do what you want.” With that ringing endorsement, she changed the subject. “Did I tell you? I’m packaging dip mixes now?”

  “Nope. What kind?”

  They were working toward peace. Toward a gradual acceptance of the past and the way things were, the way things must be because his mother had remarried and things had to be different.

  She talked about dips for ten minutes, then asked, “When are you moving out?”

  “Next couple days.”

  “You got time in the morning? I need you to fix my website.”

  “Before work?” After a longing look at the dancers’ handsome bodies, he turned to her. “You have a WordPress dot com site? Or dot org, because—”

  “How should I know? You can look in the morning. Enough mooning now.” His mother got up and scuffed down the dirt path toward the house. She wore long shorts and a V-neck T-shirt with a flowery lightweight long-sleeved blouse over it. She turned to smile just before she disappeared from sight, and he got a sharp ache in his chest—hard to know how many of those looks he’d missed. Now he regretted every single one.

  He got up to follow her, as she’d known he would.

  When he caught up, she asked, “Are you fitting in at work?”

  “Sure. You know.” He met her gaze. “Dad still opens doors.”

  “Oh. Guess so.” A couple of the old-timers had known his father since the old days, so Theo’d eased into the HPD pretty easily. At the bottom, of course, but people were nice. Since his dad had died in the line of duty, it gave him a weird cachet and some bad cooties. Everyone said how sorry they were, but no one wanted to get near him. Afraid the bad luck might rub off, maybe. Like ball players, cops could be a superstitious lot.

  “By the way, I’m gonna be in a softball game a week from Saturday. Community involvement thing.”

  “Can I come?” Her smile widened. “I haven’t seen you play ball in a long time.”

  Oh, mayday. She’ll cheer. “Er… you don’t have to. It won’t be awesome, I—”

  “I’m coming. Are you kidding me? Now, look at this here.” She showed him what she wanted planted and where. They ended up sitting in her little white wrought iron bistro set while he made notes.

  “Okay. Got it.” He turned his attention to her again. “How come more taro?”

  “New thing.” She explained that she’d started a tiny business making taro chips for local bars. “That area never drains anyway.”

  That was three little side hustles. It could be hella expensive living in Hawai‘i. Lots of people had more than one job or business. He made notes about that too. “Look, I don’t know how to ask, but….” He glanced at the sliders, where his stepfather was probably getting ready for bed. “Are you okay for cash?”

  She frowned at him. “It’s none of your business, Te.”

  “All right.” Fine. But cash was different from money. Mother’s money came from a family trust, and it was probably enough for her to stay independent from her banker husband, but she did several things for charity and also put away extra for hard times and all the grandkids she hoped for.

  On paper, she had plenty of money, but from his father
, he knew that at times she’d been short on ready cash. Her independence was important to her, and although he didn’t like to pry as much as she did, he made certain exceptions. He would dutifully cultivate the soil and plant new taro, just as he would eventually be press-ganged into mandoline-slicing vegetables and measuring spices in his free time, just as he would drive his aunties and uncles on errands when he could. All for one and one for all.

  But if she needed cash, he could provide some of that too. His father’s last words had been, “Do better than me.”

  Theo was pretty sure his dad didn’t mean be a better cop.

  As he watched his mother chatter animatedly in the moonlight, it struck him that he didn’t really know her at all. And he wanted to. As a person, and not as his mother.

  He remembered sitting on his father’s lap and watching her dance before he understood what hula was. Her body and hands told stories, and he understood that. She’d made his heart tighten painfully with fear, or awe, he didn’t know. She was luminously beautiful, and she always would be.

  Now she was also an auxiliary member of the Hula Kuku Wahine, a small group of mature dancers from the area who performed at children’s hospitals and senior centers. Maybe what his dad meant by be better was be more like Mom.

  They sat talking until Gary came out the french doors to smoke on the lanai. He wore his monogrammed bathrobe over silk pajamas. His expression wasn’t warm, but he wasn’t a warm man. Theo guessed his mother didn’t mind. She carried her own warmth.

  “I should go, little fish.” She grinned before pressing her nose to his.

  “Night, Mom.” The reply was automatic, but the emotional connection felt stronger than it had in years. “Sleep well.”

  “You too. Sweet dreams.” As she drifted inside, her husband ground out his cigarette and followed, leaving Theo in paradise, alone.

  Chapter Four

  LIKE ALL days that end in y, Thursday meant sunscreen. Shave ice. The air smelled like summer, and the crowd noise was already deafening. Theo and Calista were on foot patrol in Waikiki, where the sun did its best to incinerate ignorant tourists, who squirmed like piles of slow maggots on the beach. The heat was merciless. Sweat had soaked Theo’s undershirt through, and now he felt like a waterlogged sponge. On top of everything else, traffic had come to a standstill because of the Roxy Waikiki Classic.

  From across the street, a lady waved them down, shouting that she had found a homeless man who appeared to be having trouble breathing. They followed her into the shade behind some woody hibiscus bushes, where they found a dude who could have been anywhere from twenty-five to a hundred and twenty-five. He had jaundiced skin and haunted eyes. He looked malnourished. Dehydrated for sure. Signs of drug abuse. Possible OD? The girl wrung her hands.

  “I was just walking by. I didn’t know what to do.” She was young and sunburned and holding a Starbucks venti cup in one hand and her phone in the other. She wasn’t talking to friends on speaker or taking Snapchat photos of their vic or asking to wear his hat. She was one of the good ones.

  Calista called for EMS. Homeless guy was barely conscious, his breathing definitely labored. Theo gloved up and chafed the man’s hand to get his attention. “Sir? What’s your name? Sir? Can you tell me? Did you use today?”

  Dude was covered in sores, and an awful smell wafted from beneath the many shirts he wore. Someone had stolen his shoes, or he hadn’t been wearing any. Calista put her gloves on before checking his feet for recent needle marks. At least two threadbare pairs of trousers covered his bony legs. He’d walked his socks half off, and they were so crusted with dirt and blood they’d become one with the pads of his feet. They’d have to be soaked off. Calista checked the man’s skin. “Tracks, but they’re not fresh. Mister? Did you use drugs? You get anything new? Anything recent that made you feel especially bad?”

  Theo shook his head after looking at the man’s arms. “Nothing new here.”

  Calista slapped his leg lightly. “Sir? Can you talk to us? Did you use today?”

  The man roused enough to shake his head and answer a few basic questions. Said his name was Joey. Most times, if somebody was down, either they or their friends admitted they used because first responders carried Narcan, and that could be the only thing standing between an addict and a short trip in the coroner’s van. This guy was breathing, but not well. He wheezed like old bagpipes.

  “Sounds like asthma. You got asthma?”

  The dude didn’t answer.

  “Okay, we got you, buddy. Probably have to flag them down, Calista. Let ’em know where we are.”

  “Yes, sir.” Calista gave him an eye roll like he was a hopeless softie, and while Theo talked to the dude and did what he could to keep him comfortable, she waited at the curb.

  Joey’d probably be okay after some antibiotics and a few hours of IV saline. For a few days, anyway, until he had to live outside again. Could be worse. Could be Bear Lake in winter.

  The girl who’d flagged them down thanked him. She told him she was shaken to see so much homelessness in Hawai‘i.

  She blinked back tears. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be in a place of such apparent abundance. In paradise.”

  Not exactly breaking news to him. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Thank you for flagging us down. I think you may have saved a life.”

  He threw his gloves in the trash. His and Calista’s shift was almost over, and his feet ached like hell. He couldn’t wait to get out of his uniform. Jump in the pool at his new place for a bit.

  “You got plans for your days off?” Calista asked.

  “Figured I’d head to the swap meet, get some lamps and stuff. My place is furnished, but I should personalize it.”

  “What about tonight?”

  “I’m making it an early night. Why?”

  “Tonight a few of us are going to Eddie’s. It’s Taryn’s birthday. You should come.”

  He had a couple days off. He could go, but… ugh. Koa and Freddie were probably gonna be there. He couldn’t figure them out, but so far it looked to Theo like they were joined at the hip.

  He had to face facts. Koa didn’t seem interested in getting reacquainted as long as Freddie was around. And it seemed like Freddie was always around. Maybe Theo should look for someone to bring home rather than go shopping for lamps? He had a place to himself for the first time in three months. Why not go out? Maybe get lucky?

  He was saved from answering by a loud verbal altercation that threatened to turn violent. He and Calista stepped over and easily subdued the street combatants. But you had to listen while they hashed things out or tempers could flare again in a hot second. They settled the situation and the parties separated. While Calista let the wife of one man blow off steam, Theo watched the others go to the parking lot, get in their cars, and leave.

  He and Calista kept on walking.

  He might go out with Taryn, Calista, and their crew, but he’d probably peel away if folks talked shop or Freddie was a jerk. He needed a night away from the job. He needed to get laid.

  Other guys chased tail. Why shouldn’t he? Just because Koa played hard to get to get half the time. Just because he mostly hung out with Freddie and pretended Theo didn’t exist. Theo had plenty of time to make something happen with Koa, but for now… he was tired of sleeping alone.

  Bear Lake wasn’t exactly a hookup mecca. Madison was the closest decent city. Being Asian and gay hadn’t helped. It had cut his local choices down to two. They were good choices, but they were not… the one.

  That was the single fault he found with Detweiler’s Plummetry philosophy. Theo agreed with most things in principle: “The past is over.” “The future is beyond our control.” “People should be awesome to one another.” Those things made sense. They were a pragmatic way to live. But the “be in the now; love the one you’re with” aspect of plummeting? Theo was still conflicted about that. It left him without much interest in trying to make solid connections, because Theo wanted to believe in the
one. He wanted a soul mate. He had a hollow place generating an atmosphere of constant hunger—a person-shaped hole—and when it came time to look for someone to fill it, the only shape that seemed right to him was Koa Palapiti’s.

  That didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to get laid by whomever. He was. Pragmatically, sex was fun and relaxing and a pretty healthy way to spend time. Bodies were interchangeable, and as long as everyone was on the same page and no one got hurt, why not? There were plenty of opportunities to be found right here on the beach—especially if he picked someone passing through, who wouldn’t be a nuisance because they lived halfway around the world.

  He just had to make a little bit of an effort. And now that he had a place? He planned to start right away.

  Once he and Calista got back to the station, he finished his paperwork and changed into gym clothes. On his way out, he saw Calista get into her car. “Hey, were you seriously asking me to Taryn’s thing? Or just being polite?”

  “Don’t be an ass. A bunch of us will be there. I’m not—” She tucked the bit of dark hair that had slipped from her bun behind her ear. “It’s just a friend thing, okay?”

  “Of course.” He didn’t wear rainbow suspenders, and she smiled an awful lot when they were on duty, but until now she’d never indicated she was into him, or that she was worried he was into her. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it and probably they’d both feel relieved, but it wasn’t the kind of thing he brought up first. Eddie’s was chill, and he could duck out if he wanted and go clubbing or something. He’d been meaning to check out a place pretty close by.

  “Sure, I’ll go.” Mind made up. “What time?”

  “I’ll be there around nine.”

  He nodded. “See you then.”

  He got his bike and piddled along gridlocked streets to the highway, which gave him a lot of time to think. He could have leased a place closer to his work, but he’d wanted to be near home, and also to avoid the congestion of Honolulu. He split traffic on the highway, made it to the neighborhood around seven thirty, and parked behind the same low-rent tae kwon do place he’d gone to as a kid.