Read Online JoAnn Bassett - Islands of Aloha 07 - Moloka'i Lullaby by JoAnn Bassett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: JoAnn Bassett
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she’s over at my sista’s place on O’ahu, but she’ll be back by Monday.”
I followed him to his caretaker bungalow. I had a hunch that after talking to Lono’s mother, my anxiety about being able to get what I needed on Moloka’i was either gonna get a whole lot better or a whole lot worse.
***
His mother’s name was Malama. I never did get her full name, but I had her phone number so that was enough. I jogged back to the car while listening to Hatch’s voicemail message on my phone.
“Pali, it’s me,” he said. “I’m starting to get a little worried about you. Call when you get this.”
I called and offered a thumbnail version of the events of the last hour. I promised I’d be back within a half-hour, and so, once again I pushed the decades-old Geo to its limits all the way back to the condo.
Hatch met me at the door.
“Are you okay?” he said. “You looked spooked.”
I filled him in on my encounter with Lono, aka Machete Man, but told him it had ended amicably.
“I had a great time surfing,” he said. “Empty beaches and nobody in my way on the good waves. We should come over here more often.”
That night, Hatch grilled the fish we’d picked up at the market, and I made a salad. Afterwards, we sat outside watching the moon edge its way across a star-flecked sky.
“It sure is quiet here,” Hatch said.
“Yeah. Almost too quiet.”
“So, the place where they’re having the wedding is nice?”
“It’s fantastic. It’s even more la-di-dah than your Australian movie maker’s spread in Sprecklesville.”
“Oh yeah? How so?” He sounded a little put off; as if I’d dissed him personally by saying his landlord’s fancy compound on Maui had been one-upped by George Bustamante’s swanky beach house.
“Well, first of all, it’s directly on the beach. I bet there’s at least a football field of totally secluded beach right in front of the property. The house itself is huge, along with ohana cottages, and barns, and three or four huge garages. I’d say the estate takes up a good four or five acres.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you what: I know you want to go to Kaulapapa tomorrow, but let’s leave a little early and I’ll take you by there. You can’t imagine how beautiful it is.”
Hatch folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. His facial expression was almost brooding in the gathering darkness.
“Are you okay?” I said.
“Yeah, I was just thinking. Do you ever regret saying, ‘yes’?”
“What are you talking about?
“I had to practically hog-tie you to get you to say ‘yes’ to marrying me,” he said in a low voice. “I’m just wondering if on days like this—you know, when you see how the one-percenters live—if you have second thoughts about hooking up with a humble smoke-eater like me.”
I went over and sat in his lap. I leaned in and gave him a kiss. “You know,” I said. “I was a one-percenter for a little while, remember? It didn’t suit me, so I got rid of it. You suit me. I never want to get rid of you.”
“You promise?” he said.
“Isn’t that what marriage is? A promise.”
***
The next morning we asked about going to the Kaluapapa Settlement, but the woman who ran the condo office said it was closed on Sundays.
“You know, there are still Hansen’s Disease patients living there,” she said. “They’re cured now, but they still have the scars. Tours go down there every day, so Sunday’s the only day the residents have the place to themselves.”
“ Mahalo, ” I said. “I guess we’ll have to check out Kalaupapa another time.”
We walked out to the Geo and I offered to drive. The car was stifling inside. Hatch cranked on the A/C, but all the little blower could do was simply move the hot stale air around, no sign of cooling.
“Since we can’t go down to Kalaupapa, what would you like to do today?” I said. I felt a trickle of sweat creeping down my spine.
“Why don’t we
I followed him to his caretaker bungalow. I had a hunch that after talking to Lono’s mother, my anxiety about being able to get what I needed on Moloka’i was either gonna get a whole lot better or a whole lot worse.
***
His mother’s name was Malama. I never did get her full name, but I had her phone number so that was enough. I jogged back to the car while listening to Hatch’s voicemail message on my phone.
“Pali, it’s me,” he said. “I’m starting to get a little worried about you. Call when you get this.”
I called and offered a thumbnail version of the events of the last hour. I promised I’d be back within a half-hour, and so, once again I pushed the decades-old Geo to its limits all the way back to the condo.
Hatch met me at the door.
“Are you okay?” he said. “You looked spooked.”
I filled him in on my encounter with Lono, aka Machete Man, but told him it had ended amicably.
“I had a great time surfing,” he said. “Empty beaches and nobody in my way on the good waves. We should come over here more often.”
That night, Hatch grilled the fish we’d picked up at the market, and I made a salad. Afterwards, we sat outside watching the moon edge its way across a star-flecked sky.
“It sure is quiet here,” Hatch said.
“Yeah. Almost too quiet.”
“So, the place where they’re having the wedding is nice?”
“It’s fantastic. It’s even more la-di-dah than your Australian movie maker’s spread in Sprecklesville.”
“Oh yeah? How so?” He sounded a little put off; as if I’d dissed him personally by saying his landlord’s fancy compound on Maui had been one-upped by George Bustamante’s swanky beach house.
“Well, first of all, it’s directly on the beach. I bet there’s at least a football field of totally secluded beach right in front of the property. The house itself is huge, along with ohana cottages, and barns, and three or four huge garages. I’d say the estate takes up a good four or five acres.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you what: I know you want to go to Kaulapapa tomorrow, but let’s leave a little early and I’ll take you by there. You can’t imagine how beautiful it is.”
Hatch folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. His facial expression was almost brooding in the gathering darkness.
“Are you okay?” I said.
“Yeah, I was just thinking. Do you ever regret saying, ‘yes’?”
“What are you talking about?
“I had to practically hog-tie you to get you to say ‘yes’ to marrying me,” he said in a low voice. “I’m just wondering if on days like this—you know, when you see how the one-percenters live—if you have second thoughts about hooking up with a humble smoke-eater like me.”
I went over and sat in his lap. I leaned in and gave him a kiss. “You know,” I said. “I was a one-percenter for a little while, remember? It didn’t suit me, so I got rid of it. You suit me. I never want to get rid of you.”
“You promise?” he said.
“Isn’t that what marriage is? A promise.”
***
The next morning we asked about going to the Kaluapapa Settlement, but the woman who ran the condo office said it was closed on Sundays.
“You know, there are still Hansen’s Disease patients living there,” she said. “They’re cured now, but they still have the scars. Tours go down there every day, so Sunday’s the only day the residents have the place to themselves.”
“ Mahalo, ” I said. “I guess we’ll have to check out Kalaupapa another time.”
We walked out to the Geo and I offered to drive. The car was stifling inside. Hatch cranked on the A/C, but all the little blower could do was simply move the hot stale air around, no sign of cooling.
“Since we can’t go down to Kalaupapa, what would you like to do today?” I said. I felt a trickle of sweat creeping down my spine.
“Why don’t we
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