Luau at the Moloka`i Shores: 3
"No sked um," I told Ben.
Ben got up, crossed to the other side, and asked Puanani to dance just as a slack key guitar played the first notes. She smiled and took his hand. Ben said something to her and they danced rock style beside our table.
Gramma chuckled watching Ben gyrate.
"Ben's good," I told her, "don't you think?"
Gramma nodded. "Just goin' it."
Chipper pulled a hip flask from his jacket pocket and took a swig.
"May I have this dance, Gramma?" I asked.
"I'm too old to be dancin'," she replied.
I noticed a brunette with her back to me. Her dance moves seemed somehow familiar. She wore a green tube top, white shorts, and white sandals. A plumeria lei bounced off her shoulders. She spun around—it was Lucy Seville from Punahou School in Honolulu. Her partner was the older Ciacci boy. Lucy had wanted to go steady with me in seventh grade but I turned her down. I spotted Dr. Seville dancing with a blonde lady whom I knew was Lucy's mom. Dr. Seville had been my principal in junior high. He reminded me of LBJ. The song ended and the Ciacci boy escorted Lucy to the beverage table. I hustled over, dipped two cups into a bowl of Hawaiian Punch, and darted over. Lucy's hair was full of chunky blonde streaks from the sun.
"Hi, Lucy," I said holding out a cup of punch.
"Jeffo!" she said taking the cup. She had piercing blue eyes and smiled without showing her teeth. "Whacha doing here?"
"I spend every summer with my grandmother."
"I saw Ben dancing," she said flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Do you know Albert?"
"Sure," I replied, "once we chased the same pig."
Albert nodded. "I nevah went catch."
Albert's breath smelled like opihi. "I didn't catch the pig either," I said.
"Anyway," Lucy said, "My Dad's thinking of buying a condo."
"He should," I replied.
"How come? "You could visit me on Moloka'i."
"He wants to rent it out."
"Latah, Lucy," said Albert.
"Can we dance again?" Lucy asked.
"Shoots," Albert said and took off.
"Albert's in charge of the imu," Lucy said and sipped her punch. She wore frosted pink lipstick, eyeliner, and turquoise eye shadow. Her breasts pushed out her tube top and her tan legs were long and muscular. She'd filled out since junior high and I realized going steady wouldn't have been a bad thing.
"Is your grandmother here?" Lucy asked.
"She's at that table by the coconut tree."
Lucy looked over. "That's her?"
"The wig lady."
"Oh, she's mod!"
"Can you do me a big favor, Lucy?" I asked.
Lucy wrinkled her brow and put her hands on her hips. "What favor have you ever done for me, Jeffrey Gill?"
"I won you that bunny at the carnival."
"That was light years ago," she said fingering her lei. "What's this big favor?"
"When the next song starts, ask Gramma's date to dance."
Lucy peered over at the table. "Is that bald man your grandpa?"
"No. He's just her ex. We call him 'Uncle Chipper.' "
"Uncle Chipper's too busy drinking and smoking to dance."
"If you ask him, I'll ask her. Then I'll cut in and leave him with Gramma."
|© Copyright 2006 Kirby Wright & Trout.|
|This issue of Trout is sponsored in part by UNESCO.|