Mele Kalikimaka Mr Walker

by Robert G. Barrett

  Well, thought Les as he came up for air, Mitzi was right when she said she didn’t need conch shells to make her blow. And neither do I. She’d only have to look hard at my dick right now and I’d empty out all over the place myself. To make matters even worse, Mitzi came to life, pulled Norton’s jox off and started giving him a polish that sent him cross-eyed; Norton was now that horny he was almost in tears. She lay back on the pillows and spread her legs again. Les moved on top of her, rubbing her breasts again as he kissed her. Well, if this goes more than ten seconds I’ll give a million bucks to the hospital. But she’s had her rocks and there’s no way I’m going to give myself a hernia. Mitzi’s ted was all moist and there was stuff spurting out of Norton all over the place. He gave a couple of gentle shoves and he was in.

  It was like an indescribable, velvet sensation. Les had never felt anything so soft yet firm at the same time. He started stroking away, wondering, does life always get this good? When Mitzi clamped her vaginal muscles around him it felt like Mr Wobbly had just got jammed in a vice. Next thing she started rotating her pelvis like it had a two-stroke motor behind it. Norton’s body shook, his spine rattled and Mr Wobbly didn’t know what hit him. Les tried to do a bit of pumping, but Mitzi had him. She got her legs around him and ground away. Norton thought he was going to go mad, he’d never felt anything like it. Mitzi ground a bit more, Les slammed his eyes shut, sucked in a great lungful of air, then arched his back and let go as Mitzi’s pumping ted sucked everything out of him but the marrow in his bone.

  ‘Aaarghhh-ooohhh-owhh-grrghh-ohhh!’ The full moon was still shining outside the window. Les got a glimpse of it as he howled with delight then flopped back on the bed alongside Mitzi as she let him go. Norton’s heart was banging like a trip hammer. Somehow he managed to focus for a moment. He reached across, gave Mitzi a kiss then flopped back down on the bed. ‘Jesus! How good was that?’ He managed a smile. ‘I think the pain in my back’s gone. Everything’s gone.’

  ‘So much for your bad back, huh?’ said Mitzi. She watched Norton, smiling for a moment, then got two towels, placing one over Les and wrapping another one around herself. ‘I’m going to have a shower,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, righto,’ panted Les, from under closed eyes.

  More music oozed out of the radio and Les could hear the shower running as he lay back on the bed and tried to figure out what had just hit him. How often do you find a girl like that? he asked himself. Not only can she fight like a bag of cats, how good is she in the cot? Andrea wasn’t kidding when she said those sheilas from that village were good roots. There’s not enough Gs in ‘grouse’ to describe it. One thing for sure, I got to see her again. Les was still figuring things out and feeling pretty pleased with himself when Mitzi came back and sat on the edge of the bed. She was in her blue shorts, joggers and a T-shirt. Les was a little surprised. In a way he was expecting to see her in her knickers and bra. Then, on the other hand, he was that destroyed and still half drunk, he probably couldn’t have gone another one right at the moment. It just seemed a little sudden. A bit cut and dry, that was all.

  Mitzi ran her hand across Norton’s chest. ‘Thank you again for a lovely day, Les.’

  ‘No need to thank me, Mitzi,’ he smiled up at her. ‘I’m the one that had all the fun, I reckon. When am I going to see you again?’

  Mitzi shook her head. ‘You’re not.’

  ‘Oh?’ Norton’s heart sank a little. The way she said it seemed odd and made him feel bad. Like he’d done something wrong.

  ‘Don’t take it the wrong way, Les.’ Mitzi smiled sweetly at him. ‘You were fun. I had a great time. I got a bit drunk and all that, but I do honestly like you, Les.’

  ‘Oh. Well, that’s good.’

  ‘I’d also like to think, Les, that what happened tonight happened just between you and me.’

  Norton nodded. ‘You have my word, Mitzi,’ he answered honestly. ‘That’s a promise.’

  Mitzi kept smiling sweetly, making Les feel worse. ‘Let me put it to you this way, Les. Do you have a girlfriend back in Australia?’

  For a second Norton flashed onto DD. ‘No. Not really,’ he said.

  ‘Well I, no not really, have a boyfriend, who’s over on the mainland at the moment.’

  ‘I understand perfectly, Mitzi.’

  ‘And the less you know about him the better, Les. All around.’

  ‘I think I can dig that too, Mitzi.’ Les looked at Mitzi for a moment then drew her back towards him, gave her a hug then kissed her a couple of times. ‘But let me just say this, Mitzi Moonkiss, and in all sincerity. You’re one of the best women I’ve ever met. And I mean that, Mitzi. From the bottom of my heart.’

  Mitzi smiled and shook her head. ‘You know what you are, Les?’ Norton shook his head too. ‘Andrea has this weird expression she uses now and again, which I think I’ve figured out. A “fair dinkum bloke”. Is that it?’ Les nodded. ‘Well, that’s what you are.’

  Despite the sudden sadness, Norton’s face broke into a grin. ‘Thanks, Mitzi. You can’t do much better than that. Now, let me take you down to the foyer.’

  ‘No, it’s all right. I’ll leave just as I came.’

  ‘Oh. Well, at least let me walk you to the door.’

  Les wrapped the towel around him, got up and took Mitzi to the door and opened it.

  ‘Well, goodbye, Mitzi,’ he said.

  Mitzi gave him one last smile. ‘Goodbye, Les. Aloha.’

  ‘Yeah. Aloha.’ Les watched her shapely behind going down the hallway, then he closed the door and she was gone.

  Well, figure that one out, thought Les, as he picked up what was left of his beer and gazed out the window. You win some, you lose some. But what a good sort. I won’t forget her in a hurry. He let go a huge yawn and suddenly felt all the bruises in his back again. I reckon I might get under the shower myself. And drop a couple of Panadols. I’ve still got a bit of a funny day on tomorrow.

  Still feeling half drunk, Les got under the shower, which didn’t sober him up but relaxed him nicely. He yawned a few more times and let the water run over his face into his mouth. There were a couple of things he wanted to think about, but for the moment just couldn’t quite be bothered. He towelled off, put some more iodine on his knuckles then began turning all the lights out along with the radio. There was something playing on his mind, though. Something to do with what happened in the lift. Was it a sense of déjà vu? Or something he’d seen somewhere? One thing for sure, Les winced as he climbed into bed and a couple of bruises on his back told him he should lower himself down a little more gently. Whatever it is, it can wait till morning. And even then, I’m not sure it’s worth it.

  The bed was soft, the two Panadols started to cut in and Les closed his eyes. I wonder what breakfast will be like tomorrow? It should be okay. Hope they’ve got grits and hash browns on the menu. Before long Les was snoring peacefully once more.

  The booze, the dancing, the sex, and especially the fight in the lift, had taken its toll on Norton, in both body and soul. If it hadn’t been for the phone ringing around seven-thirty Les probably would have slept till lunchtime. He blinked his eyes open, looked around for a moment then reached across and picked up the receiver.

  ‘Hello,’ he said thickly.

  ‘Hey, Les. How’re you doin’? It’s Mick.’

  ‘Oh. G’day, Mick. How’s things?’

  ‘All right. Did I get you out of bed?’

  ‘Sort of. I ended up having a few drinks last night.’ ‘Yeah? I ended up getting away about two. So I got some sleep. But I’m doing a doubler this afternoon. So what’s doing? Are we still seeing the lovely Andriana Hazlewood this morning?’

  ‘Yeah. Nine o’clock at the… Kalahani.’

  Mick kind of chuckled over the phone. ‘I still can’t believe how you’ve done this. I tried to ring you a couple of times. I left a message. Where’ve you been?’

  ‘I was over the North Shore most of yesterday and I got on the piss last night
.’

  ‘Right. So do you want me to come round and pick you up?’

  ‘Yeah, righto.’

  ‘Okay. Well, I’ll see you down the main entrance at, say, eight forty-five.

  ‘All right, Mick. I’ll see you down the front.’

  ‘See you then, Les.’

  Norton yawned and looked at his watch. Well, I suppose I’d better get my finger out. Les rolled out of bed ready to spring into life. Not quite. His back felt worse, his knuckles were sore and there were lumps all over the top of his head. He rolled his head around, stretched his arms and stared out the window at the ocean. Jesus, getting drunk, getting into fights and rooting sheilas is good fun. I must do it more often. Outside, the day reflected Norton’s mood — windy, it had rained through the night with more around, and there were flickers of lightning out to sea. He did a few more stretches then absently switched on the radio and couldn’t quite believe it when he got Buddy Holly hiccuping his way through ‘Raining In My Heart’. It was almost as bad as getting ‘My Boyfriend’s Back’ just before Mitzi gave him the salmon the night before. But it was no good standing around like the proverbial ‘stale bottle of’, feeling sorry for yourself. Les cleaned himself up, got into his old gear and went downstairs for a swim.

  Despite it not being much of a day, the traffic was fairly heavy and there were joggers everywhere, obviously taking advantage of the cooler weather. Again there was no one in the pool and the water was a bit on the fresh side; Les managed six laps, each one more punishing than the last. What he needed more than exercise was a good massage and a trip to the chiropractor. However, after a cold shower and a few more stretches by the pool, followed by a hot shower back in his room, Norton felt better and was starting to see the funny side of things again. He climbed into a clean pair of jeans and a green Stüssy T-shirt, then, after sipping several purple people eaters while he mulled a few things over in his head with the radio playing, it was time to go downstairs. Mick was waiting in the car, wearing a pair of blue shorts and a matching Hawaiian shirt. Despite his eyes being a little grainy from overwork, he smiled warmly as Les climbed in the front seat.

  ‘Hey. How’s it goin’… mate?’

  ‘All right — mate,’ said Les, clicking the seat belt around him.

  ‘Well, I have to admit you’ve got me fucked, Les. This sheila hates my guts and treats me like a leper. You’re in town five minutes, and it’s let’s do breakfast at the Kalahani. Buggered if I know.’

  Les gave Mick a good-natured slap on the thigh. ‘I’m just a natural-born diplomat. I’m nice. Not some mongrel-headed copper running around harassing people.’ Norton laughed at the look on Mick’s face. ‘No, you won’t believe this, but she’s an old girlfriend of mine. I used to take her out back in Australia.’

  The traffic was still heavy, due to roadwork and preparations for all the joggers, so Les told Mick about his relationship with Andrea and their meeting. Even though there was no real need to lie to Mick, Les did hold a few things back Andrea had told him, though he did mention the day with Mitzi and the night at the Green Giraffe, figuring Mick would know her from when she identified the bodies, and Mitzi had mentioned Mick in a good light.

  Mick was shaking his head. ‘Shit! You’re not bad, Norton. Coffee and cakes with the madam. Cocktails and dinner with the accountant. You’re oilier than a kerosene lamp.’

  ‘I told you, Mick,’ said Les, ‘I’m just a nice bloke all round. A lovable guy. Is that what they say over here?’ Mick continued to shake his head, then a kind of smile flickered round his eyes. ‘So how did you go with Mitzi baby anyway?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ replied Les, with an affected naivety.

  ‘I mean, did you get your hand on Mitzi Moonkiss’s little minge.’

  ‘Get out. She’s Andrea’s accountant. We just had a few dances and a few drinks and I met some of her girlfriends at that nightclub.’

  ‘Just as well you didn’t.’

  ‘Why? She got the jack or something?’

  ‘No. Her boyfriend runs a Tae-Kwon-Do academy over in Palama.’

  ‘He does?’

  ‘Yeah. Actually Roh’s not a bad guy. Just a bit wild. I pinched him for a bad assault once. He was a goner. But the four guys he put in hospital were assholes and the bar he wrecked was a dump. So let’s just say the case didn’t quite make it to court.’

  ‘Oh. To tell you the truth, Mitzi did mention your name. She said you were an all right guy. Those were her words.’

  ‘Yeah? That was nice of her.’ Mick gave a little chuckle. ‘Roh’s not so nice though when he gets stirred up. But you needn’t worry. He’s over in Hollywood at the moment, doing the fight scenes for some martial arts movie. So he won’t find out you tried to get into his girlfriend’s pants.’

  Les just nodded. ‘I wouldn’t mind, though. She’s a bloody good sort. So are all her girlfriends.’

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Mick. ‘Are they what.’

  Yes. Well, there you go, thought Norton. Mitzi needn’t worry herself one little bit over me skiting about throwing her in the air. Or vice versa. That’s all I need the way I feel right now — some nutty Hawaiian Bruce Lee wanting to pounce all over me in a fit of jealousy. Les twisted around uncomfortably where the seat belt was cutting into one of the bruises on his ribs.

  ‘What happened to you anyway?’ asked Mick. ‘You look a bit sore. Mitzi really jump your bones did she?’

  ‘I did it surfing at Waimea Bay and Sunset,’ answered Les.

  ‘You what!!?’

  Les told Mick he’d hurt his back getting dumped in the shore break at Waimea Bay then skinned his hands on the reefs when he went for a swim with Mitzi at Sunset Beach. It wasn’t Norton’s best day and Mick was right, he wasn’t cut out to be a surfie. They joked about one or two other things, although Mick seemed a little apprehensive, which was understandable. Then the traffic eased, they drove past the old swimming pool Les had noticed with Mick on the Sunday, and the Kalahani Hotel loomed up in front of them.

  Les had first noticed the hotel when he drove by it on the way to Andrea’s house. It was yellow concrete and not all that big, built right onto the beach where the park ended and surrounded by palm trees swaying noticeably in the stiff breeze gusting across the reefs in front. A hairdresser’s, a small food store and several other boutique-type shops edged around the park side of the hotel, behind a low concrete wall thick with bougainvillea and other lush, tropical flowers, giving the hotel an ambience and class that could have been the old Hawaii. Les tipped it to be very upmarket and classy inside and right out of range for your average tourist or backpacker; exactly the kind of place where a madam to the stars would come for breakfast. There was a small parking area a few metres in front of the shops, where Les noticed Monroe standing alongside the same bronze Mercedes he’d seen at Andrea’s home. Next to the Mercedes was a vacant spot Andrea’s minder had been saving. He seemed to notice them coming and made a gesture, Les pointed for Mick, who pulled in next to the Mercedes and turned off the motor. They got out of the car to where Monroe was standing at the back of the Mercedes looking very big and very businesslike, wearing neat brown trousers and a yellow Hawaiian shirt. In his right hand was a portable metal detector like they use at airports.

  ‘Good morning, Mick,’ he said, slowly and politely.

  ‘Hello, Monroe. How are you?’ replied Mick, just a little stiffly.

  ‘I’m fine. Good morning, Les.’

  ‘G’day, Monroe,’ answered Les cheerfully. ‘How are you, mate?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ The giant black man held up the metal detector, looking mainly at Mick. ‘You know Ms Hazlewood has obliged you with this meeting today.’ Mick nodded. ‘And it’s strictly off the record and cards on the table.’ Mick nodded again. ‘Okay.’ Monroe ran the metal detector over Mick then patted him down just for good measure. Mick stood there without saying a word. ‘You too, Les.’

  ‘Sure.’ Les held his arms up and Monroe did the same to him.<
br />
  ‘Okay, gentlemen. That’s fine.’

  Monroe placed the metal detector on the roof of the Mercedes and opened the back door. Like the queen alighting from the royal carriage, Andrea stepped out of the Mercedes wearing a dark blue silk tracksuit with Japanese motifs in white running down the sleeves and unzipped in the front just enough to show her boobs thrusting against a pale blue T-shirt with Natalie Cole on the front. Her hair was bobbed and perfect and she wore just the right amount of gold jewellery to go with her gold Piaget watch.

  ‘Good morning, Detective Reinhardt,’ she said syrupily, and offered her hand.

  ‘Good morning, Ms Hazlewood,’ he replied, giving her hand a brief squeeze.

  ‘Good morning, Les,’ she smiled again.

  ‘G’day, Andrea,’ said Norton. ‘How’s things?’

  ‘Very well. Very well indeed.’ Andrea gave Mick a hideous once up and down, along with a slow, deliberate blink. ‘Now, if you’d like to follow me, Detective Reinhardt, Monroe will lead us into the hotel. I have a table waiting.’ With Monroe by her side, Andrea turned and headed towards the hotel.

  Well how about this, mused Les, as they all fell into step behind her. Does my old mate Fenwick know how to set a scene or what? Alexis Carrington couldn’t have done it better than that. He glanced at Mick, whose face was registering a kind of incensed apprehension. Andrea had put him in his place from the word go and the Kalahani was definitely not the place your average honest cop would be seen having breakfast. And definitely not with the richest brothel owner in Hawaii.

  The foyer was all shiny beige tiles, soft lights, and plush furniture with expensive tablelamps sitting on equally expensive coffee tables. As soon as they stepped inside, the duty manager and various uniformed flunkies with Liberace smiles seemed to come from everywhere. Monroe waited in the foyer and, like Cleopatra entering Rome, Andrea and her small entourage were led down into an open courtyard which was sitting against the beach and walled off with a white, concrete balustrade. There were colourful flowers and exotic plants everywhere, and two short, thick trees spread a lovely canopy of lush green leaves over the white wrought-iron chairs and tables topped with smoked glass and as dainty as lace. The tablecloths were starched a dazzling white, emphasising a small flower arrangement on each table, and had a white umbrella above. The whole place reeked of opulence and style and as the flunkies sat them down at Andrea’s table, secluded in the corner, right on the beach and away from the other diners, Les was wishing he’d never opened his big mouth and offered to pay the bill. Bennie’s back at Waikiki it definitely wasn’t.