Luau at the Moloka`i Shores: 6
"How come we had to leave so early?" I groused.
"It was past Peanut's bedtime," Ben said.
"I was sick of Chip," Gramma admitted. She said Chipper had brought a hip flask of Jack Daniels and, after polishing it off, went down Memory Lane. Some of the memories weren't too pleasant and Gramma got up and headed for the parking lot.
I thought about Lucy. We'd hugged goodbye and I held her and there was a moment where anything was possible. But the moment passed and Lucy said, "See you." I passed the stage on the way to the parking lot as Alvin crooned "I'll Remember You." Hearing that song made me feel like the only boy in the world without a girl. Lucy felt right for me on Moloka'i but I'd hurt her at the Punahou Carnival and she'd moved on.
Gramma braked for a long slow curve through the papaya plantation at Mapulehu. Halfway through the curve, our headlights died. "Fo' chrissakes," Gramma said easing to the side of the road. She popped open the glove box, grabbed a flashlight, and shined the light in our faces. "You keeds bring food from the luau?"
I shielded my eyes. "No."
"Turkey," Ben said.
"Give it hea."
"Akua want it."
"I thought ghosts only ate pork?"
"They'll eat anything from the imu."
Ben had a paper plate on his lap. He handed it to Gramma and she pulled off the plastic wrap and grabbed the hunk of turkey. She headed to the mauka side of the road and disappeared behind a kamani tree. The aroma of papaya blossoms drifted up from the plantation.
Ben yawned and stretched. "Guess where she's going."
"To the heiau," I said, "to put the turkey on a sacred stone."
"This ghost stuff is royal bullshit."
"You know you're not supposed to bring food back from a luau."
"It is a big deal if the ghosts stop us."
"You're pupule if you believe that."
"Guess I'm pupule."
Ben shifted in his seat. "By the way," he said, "what happened with Lucy?"
"She's going steady with Arnold Lepine."
"That punk's a mahu."
"What's the story with you and Puanani?"
Ben swung open the passenger door, He climbed out, unzipped his fly, and peed in the roadside brush. "She's got the hots for Albert."
"Dat buggah get hauna breath," I said.
"Yeah, and his little brother Lane beat him to the pig."
"Lane's such a lame name."
Ben zipped up. " Too bad you didn't score Lucy," he said. "Lucy the Narc."
"Lucy's no narc."
"She's the principal's daughter, isn't she?"
"That was junior high."
Ben hopped back in the cab. He kept the door open. "It's in her blood," he claimed. "She'd have squealed on us if Tenant hadn't blabbed first."
"Lucy's not like that."
"You don't know. She's not your girlfriend."
"You're just peeved Puanani dumped you for Hauna Breath."
"Where's Lucy, big mouth? Bet Lane's got his tongue down her throat this very second."
"Not in a jillion years."
"Funny, she was kissing him at the luau."
"Let me get my crystal ball," Ben said plucking an imaginary one from thin air and waved his hands over it. "Why, will you look at that," he said, "Lane an' Lucy go make poke squid on da beach."
"You punk," I said.
Ben laughed. "No wahine in her right mind would want you."
"Look who's talking, Romeo."
Ben shoved his middle finger in my face. "Put dees wheah da sun no shine."
|© Copyright 2006 Kirby Wright & Trout.|
|This issue of Trout is sponsored in part by UNESCO.|