hawai’i – three good words

October 20, 2014May 16, 2020

in the field 2

The doors opened, two guests stepped out and they stepped in. In the compartment there was silence and easy lounge music. Alexis didn’t bother to look at her new roommate. All she could think of was her shower. In less than a minute they were at her door, Alexis opened it and dropped everything the moment she walked in. Finally. the sea the sea After booting up her office laptop, she finally found the time to turn and give Mr Russell a good look. Tall, dark and handsome indeed. They probably saw him and coined the phrase. About thirty, maybe a bit older. And he looked as much in need of a shower as she did. It really was way too humid.

‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather shower first,’ Alexis said, ‘unless you have a pressing need,’ she added, not without a little irony. With looks like that she felt he couldn’t be all that touchy, and she’d been looking forward to that shower since three.
‘No, go ahead,’ he said with that accent Alexis hadn’t heard in a long time.

And as always when she heard it, it softened something inside, not much, but enough to notice. Just then her phone beeped loud, twice. Alexis checked, she had a message. It read that Marc, her colleague back home, had sent her the graphs she asked for. He wanted to know if she got them, the servers had crashed again after they uploaded the new program. Now he wasn’t sure if anything reached anyone.

‘On a second thought, why don’t you go first,’ Alexis said turning back to her computer.
‘Are you sure?’ Mr Russell asked, sounding too polite, never mind the accent.

Ah, he rather wished he didn’t owe her this. Well, she’d rather have had her rooms to herself too, but Claire could look like a lost kitten if she wanted to, it was only one night, and so far Mr Russell didn’t look like a psychopath. Added to that she was dead tired. She had no time to argue.

‘I have to check this, so go ahead,’ Alexis said while sitting down at her laptop. She registered shifting and moving behind her, entered the password and heard how Mr Russell walked past her to the bathroom, the door closing with a quiet click. Alexis opened her email and saw that she had received one from Marc, except that it was void of graphs. She called and told him, Marc said he knew, he wanted to make sure she actually got his mails first, and promptly sent her the actual material. They small talked some more, and Alexis mentioned the charity-work she was currently doing for the hotel. With the shower running on the other side of the bathroom door, she felt safe to vent a little.

‘Russell?’ Marc asked. ‘You don’t mean Russell from Trinity?’
‘Trinity? In Dublin?’
‘No, the one in Beijing,’ Marc snorted. ‘Of course in Dublin.’
‘I’m tired, Marc, can’t expect me to – wait, you mean the Russell from Trinity who wrote about that funeral pyre or what it was they found in Ecuador last year?’
‘Yeah, he was part of the group,’ Marc said, the usual click-clack of his fast-typing fingers still audible over the phone. ‘Yeah, here, Kieran Russell, Trinity College, currently working on the Indigenous Spirit Rituals of Polynesia. I knew I heard that name somewhere.’
‘Spirit Rituals?’
‘Yeah, he’s got this whole thing on spiritualism and how indigenous peoples generally have a link to a non-visible Entity. You know, Karlson’s stuff, life after death, spirits and everything. I think he wrote something on zombie myths, actually. Could be wrong though.’
‘Ok. How long has he been on it? Do you know?’
‘Nope. But…’ more click-clacking from the keyboard, ‘yeah, looks like he’s trying to trace back the roots like Luchovsky -’
‘But Luchovsky’s mad -’
‘Yeah,’ Marc chuckled. ‘Got thrown out of the Vatican last month -’
‘Again? I thought he was banned for life after the crypt?’
‘Nah, cousin’s a cardinal or something. Anyway – this guy’s slant is different.’
‘How so?’
‘Says here, Russell’s about how good old opium for the people’s come to be such big business to day. Lots of heathen cult incorporation, shrines turned to churches, something on the Mars cult – right up Luchovsky’s alley – ’
‘Not much of a Catholic then.’
‘Couldn’t say,’ Marc said, typing on, popping gum. ‘He’s been working with some big names actually – he’s part of that Mexico City network with the pyramid – oh, and he’s worked with our good friend George.’
‘Kaluo?’
‘Yep.’
‘Makes sense,’ Alexis said, hearing the shower pour on. If he could work with George he had to be good. ‘So, what does he look like, exactly?’ Alexis asked, wanting to be sure.
‘Here, check yourself,’ Marc said.

Seconds later, Alexis had a new email, with a link she clicked on. The page popped up showing pictures of a group of faculty, and in the middle of it a familiar face. So it was him, Kieran Russell. Not bad. Not bad at all. Well, at least now she knew who he was.

‘Is it him?’ Marc asked on the other end.
‘Looks like.’
‘Bit good-lookin’ don’t you think?’ Marco mused.
‘Not everyone has to look like Milo,’ Alexis said, which made Marc chuckle again.

Their boss looked like a slim version of Kojak, without the lollipops, and the looks for that matter. Still, Prof. Milos Zetakis was a very able boss and both Alexis and Marc enjoyed working for him. Alexis would have hardly stayed at the department if she hadn’t, and Marc wasn’t someone to tolerate dictatorships.

‘Ok, Marco,’ Alexis sighed, covering a yawn.
‘Polo,’ Marc said on automatic, making Alexis smile.

It was their silly game. Whoever forgot to say Polo had to pay the next round of drinks, never mind if they were on opposite ends of the planet.

‘I think I should stop before my bill eats up my phone,’ Alexis yawned again. Lord, she was tired. Where was the food? ‘I’ll send you everything by, say, tomorrow?’
‘Take your time. Milo won’t be in until day after.’
‘Oh, sweet. Great. God, I’m tired. Sorry, Marc, but I really should go.’
‘Sure. Take your time.’

And Marc was gone. Alexis turned back to her screen. Kieran Russell from Trinity. And he signed in as Mr Russell. Alexis liked that. Most rode on the wave of prestige, and thought writing a treatise automatically put you in a different category of human. Alexis would have preferred Ms Jordan as well, but since Mr Kelly found out what she was doing it was Dr Jordan the moment she walked into the lodge.

Alexis closed the url Marc sent her, opened the files in her mail, set up her field laptop and connected the two computers to process the data she gathered so far. Soon she would have the entire complex in 3D. The past weeks were really only taking measurements and photographs so that she had something solid to work with when she returned home. Then she could finally work on understanding what it was she and Toni had dug up there, Toni who did the wise thing and sped home to his wife and kids once the clouds started showing. pier dark What did they find there, though? An old settlement? A temple? Or something nobody knew about? It was a cooperation with Hawaii State, Toni working on the Islands and Alexis back home, using the gift of the gods named internet to communicate seamlessly. Even so, a few weeks field work were always necessary for Alexis to not lose touch, and now she was on her third week. She had two more to go, and then it would be back to rainy San Francisco again, not that the islands were much better right now anyway, God she was hungry. Really, where was that food?

October 18, 2014May 16, 2020

in the field

It was typical rain-season weather where all the back roads were swamps of mud and you were lucky to reach the lodge without being marooned half way. Getting stuck in turn usually ended in pushing the jeep and landing face-down in the mud. The sky was a heavy grey, clouds hanging so low Alexis felt she could touch them. There was that metallic taste of a storm brewing in the air, thickly humid as it was, making any type of material stick annoyingly to her skin. And for some reason all the mosquitoes of the islands had decided to congregate around every living, breathing mammal and probably the dead one’s as well, God she hated them. Mosquitoes really were one unnecessary genetic mutation.

Alexis parked her jeep with a sigh of relief, jumped out, gathered her gear and made her way back to the lodge. The first gust of pre-storm wind swept around her, ruffling her frizzled hair, damp and haphazard, half eating the clip she tried to tame it with. She felt sticky from head to toe and could only think of the shower waiting for her upstairs. All she needed was her key and then, hallelujah, she would scrub down, wrap herself up in the hotel’s heavenly bathrobe and then spread out on her bed with the thunderstorm crashing on outside.

The first thing Alexis noticed when entering the lobby was the musty, wet-clothes smell that hung like heavy draperies in the air. It would be ok after the storm, but right then it just irritated her more. Shouldering her backpack and waterproofed gadgets she trudged to the counter where someone tall and broad was arguing loudly with one of the concierges. She noticed the accent first, it spoke of rich green hills and real music in real pubs with real beer, the kind you never got on this side of the planet unless you went looking. Alexis clattered next to him, she couldn’t help it, her gear was heavy this late in the day. Claire, the young clerk, greeted Alexis with a ‘Hello, Dr Jordan!’ that was way too happy. Alexis still said,

‘Hi, Claire, Any mail?’
‘No, Dr Jordan, but with the weather like this, the plane’s bound to be late,’ the young woman smiled cheerily.

Just as well. She needed a few hours of rest anyway.

‘Could you send up something to eat, you know, not too heavy, and some very, very cold water?’
‘Of course, Dr. Jordan. Is there anything else we can do for you?’
‘Find me some decent sleep,’ Alexis sighed, but Claire frowned prettily. ‘No, I’m fine. I’d just take my keys then, thanks.’
‘You’re welcome, Dr. Jordan – ’ Claire started, but was interrupted by her colleague Ray who was still being harangued by the new arrival.

Alexis checked the vitals. Hiking boots, combat pants with all the pockets – good for outdoor work – dark blue t-shirt, a huge backpack, well-used, and a laptop safely packed in a waterproof case which meant serious field work. Alexis wasn’t really aware how blatantly she was staring until she saw he was looking straight back at her. Alexis blushed and looked away, really, she kept on forgetting how to act when around people. And what about her keys? Claire was still talking with her colleague, and both were looking at Alexis every now and then, until it started to get a little worrying. Finally the young woman turned back to Alexis, looking apprehensive.

‘Ahm… Dr. Jordan?’
‘Yes?’
‘May I talk to you for a second? In private?’

Claire didn’t look like she was about to kick her out of the lodge so Alexis walked to where Claire pointed, the wide French windows leading out to the patio. The first few drops splattered against the panes. Soon the storm would hit and the humidity and mosquitoes would be swept away, yeah.

‘Is something wrong?’ Alexis asked when Claire joined her.
‘No, no, nothing’s wrong. That is, nothing with you Dr. Jordan, of course not, but we are in a kind of a – predicament.’
‘What kind?’
‘It seems we’re overbooked.’
‘Oh, ok – ’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ Claire said, looking pained. ‘Mr. Russell’s room is already taken, but he did book it, so he in fact has every right to complain.’
‘Yeah, but, what’s that got to do with –’

Wait a minute. Oh, no, please no –

‘I just found out that you and Mr. Russell are in fact working in the same field – ?’ Claire asked brightly.
‘Do we now?’ Alexis asked dryly.

Why, why, why did this always happen to her? She just wanted a shower, some food, maybe a drink and then sleep, sleep, sleep. Why were the gods so against that, it was such a simple wish?

‘Well, Mr Russel is also working on a project, just like you, and we thought it might not be too awkward if you would be together, since you’d at least have something to talk about,’ Claire explained quickly. ‘It would only be for a night, the Martinez’ will be leaving tomorrow morning – ’
‘But – ’
‘Please?’ Claire asked, her wide eyes imploring. ‘You are one of our most trusted guests, and we – well, we know you, Dr. Jordan. It would only be for one night, and we would of course set up an extra bed in the second room, so… please?’
‘Yes, but Claire – ’
‘If Mr. Kelly finds out, Ray and I’ll be in a bit of a fix,’ Claire added, and Alexis sighed.

How was she to say no now? Mr. Kelly was known to be a bit… strict. Alexis knew Claire and Ray for the five years she’d been coming here to do her research, and it was true that she was known to the lodge as any other seasonal guest, maybe even more so because she always stayed for at least a month each year. And there was enough space in her suite, that was true too, she always booked one just to be able to set up the equipment she needed. During her four weeks on the islands, her suite was the base of the operation, the messy, cable-infested HQ. If they set up the bed where the couch was, they’d be out of each other’s hair. Still, there was a difference between admiring someone from a safe distance and having him around you for a night and day, seeing all your quirks and bad habits. Still, spending a night in the same room with tall, dark and handsome was a small price from keeping Jay and Claire from Mr. Kelly’s wrath.

‘If he promises not to snore, I’m fine,’ Alexis finally said and Claire beamed.
‘Thank you so much!’ she exclaimed, even hugging Alexis’ tightly.
‘Yes, yes, ok, just make sure you don’t forget my dinner,’ Alexis said grumpily.

Claire let her go again, nodding enthusiastically, piped another ‘Thank you!’ and rushed back to the reception. She could see the relief on Ray’s face when Claire gave him a thumbs up. Alexis watched how both communicated everything to Mr. Russell, who turned to Alexis and nodded as if saying Thank you. Alexis just pointed to the elevators, showing she had the key and started walking. She was really in need for a shower and felt even stickier and more frizzled than ever. She didn’t bother to look if he joined, but since the elevators took an century to arrive, Mr. Russell did manage to join her in time, backpack and laptop included.

September 12, 2014May 16, 2020

hugh’s corner

It was a warm Saturday morning when Carol Jones knocked on the door of Hugh’s Corner 75. She just flew in from Hawaii and took a cab. Now she was standing in a narrow street, trying to follow the directions her sister Liz had given her over the phone. ‘It’s between Ocean Park and Sea Drive. Just take a cab, the driver should know,’ but the driver did not know.

Liz had never been on the accurate side of things. When she broke off college in her junior year to marry Seth Hayne, all she told Carol and their parents was that Seth came from Chicago and was the sweetest man on earth. She never mentioned he was already an attorney in one of the leading law-firms, and came from what was called old money. Now, ten years later, Liz was Miss Jones again, and all Liz had told Carol so far was that their lifestyles had diverged. Liz liked to use words like that when she didn’t want to tell you anything.

Carol finally found the 75, walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. No answer. She looked at her watch, it said nine thirty five. She tried again.

‘That’s not Red’s boy.’

Saturday afternoon, late, the sky was overcast. There was a haze on the sand in front of Hugh’s Corner 75. Liz Jones was standing with her back against the balcony, smoking, a cup of coffee on the railing next to her.

In the morning, she had opened her front door groggily to incessant knocking. Carol, her sister, stood before her with an overnight bag and a sleeping baby in her arms. She looked exhausted. There had been a brief exchange, nothing important. Liz had pulled out the couch in the spare bedroom and watched her sister and the baby sleep for a while before going back to bed. Now, she was wide awake, wearing her usual frayed shorts and white shirt, waiting for her painted toe nails to dry. Carol was in the kitchen, mashing some bananas for the baby. The baby was only in diapers, sitting on a blanket a step away from Liz’ feet, playing with a toy. Liz had never been the motherly type. She liked watching mothers, and sometimes envied the satisfied laughter of their children, but the moment one started screaming she knew why she’d been careful all these years.

‘What?’ Carol asked, still stirring the mashed bananas in the bowl. She looked haunted in a way, as if she’d seen several ghosts at once. Her dark hair hung in loose curls all the way to her shoulders, making her face look thinner than it actually was. Her eyes were wide, a lighter blue than Liz’, and a little too bright. Liz remembered how readily Carol used to smile, how her face had beamed when she got accepted, and so could head to Berkeley. And how dreamy her voice became when she talked about Red, the often-proclaimed Love Of Her Life. Red, that was Stuart Montgomery, nicknamed Red due to his flaming red hair. He was a History professor who decide midway through his tenure-track that life was too short to waste in between books and classrooms, quit his job and moved to Hawaii. Carol, not exactly his best student, but his most enthusiastic, followed him in a moment of rashness, found him in a cottage on Maui and decided she’d found Heaven.

Liz had smiled when Carol sent her a picture of Red and herself a few weeks later. They were on the beach near their little house, sitting on the sand, Red holding a bottle of beer and smiling at Carol who was adjusting the spangle in his hair. They looked happy, and Liz had felt envious. She never regretted leaving college, but marrying Seth Hayne had proven to be less of the Heaven she had thought it would be. The first two years had been wonderful, but then they bought the House near the Lake, and Seth lost all interest. He held her hand, and kissed her good-morning and good-night, but that was all she ever got. He worked all day and half the night, and was always busy on weekends – if not with work, then with making the House a perfect Nest, as he always called it. And so she didn’t complain. How could she, if he was working his hind legs off to make her life comfortable. He felt guilty enough for having plucked her out of her college life and fairly plunged her into the real world of marriage and responsibilities.

In any case, by the time Carol’s photograph of bliss fluttered into her mailbox, Liz and Seth had already been married seven years. Five of which were long and lonely, though she had a nice life, a perfect life, full of dinners, parties, friends and holiday trips to Europe and Maine. That was her life two years ago. Now she was divorced, living in a small apartment between Ocean Park and Sea Drive, trying to come to terms with the fact that all the while, Seth had not been straight. He had never been, he simply saw her as a fantastic alibi, one his whole family would accept without question. She was ‘steady’ he said, and ‘sensible.’ After the shock and the tears, after the humiliation, Liz had hated him most for that.

‘K.J. no, don’t do that,’ Liz heard Carol say.
‘Why K. J. actually?’ she asked, watching Carol sit down cross-legged on the blanket before lifting the baby onto her lap.
‘Kahoku Jones,’ Carol replied, feeding the baby.
‘Kahoku? You’re kidding.’
‘No. It’s actually Kahoku Manaki Jones, but that’s too long. K.J. suits just fine, don’t you think?’

It was how she said it, defeated. Liz just looked at her sister and wondered what had happened. Carol looked crushed, as if a part of her, a large part, had broken to pieces. And yet, she was very gentle with the baby, absolutely loving, cooing and cajoling, praising the little thing’s success in eating well. Kahoku Manaki Jones. Liz exhaled. She was right. K.J. suited just fine.

‘Is there a meaning to those names?’ Liz asked.
‘Would you mind not smoking while he’s here?’ Carol asked instead.

Liz just shrugged, pinched out the cigarette and flicked it off onto the pavement below. The small street circled Hugh’s Corner, separating the wood from the sand without blocking the ocean view. There was a tall palm tree to the right of the house, but next to a few haphazard azaleas that was the only greenery in sight. Liz didn’t have any patience for plants.

‘So, is there a meaning?’
‘Kahoku means star. Manaki means wind.’
‘Star Wind Jones,’ Liz said laughed. Carol said nothing.
‘Ok. Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry, we won’t be staying long,’ Carol said, speaking to the baby.

Liz felt a sudden pang of guilt. It was probably why she said, ‘We should go to Disneyland then.’‘He’s too young for that,’ Carol said, finally looking up at Liz. She looked close to tears. The guilt grew thicker, stronger. She’d known something wasn’t right for a while now, but she could never put a finger on it, Carol was always so vague. Then again, she didn’t like phones. She preferred letters, but Liz was a bad letter-writer, she always forgot to answer.

‘We can just walk around and enjoy the view,’ Liz said, picked up her cold coffee and walked back in. She had to get away from that cloud of guilt that was growing thicker, darker, on the balcony. Carol looked like she genuinely needed help, only Liz didn’t know what kind. What was she to give a mother and a child? The baby was a sweet thing with black curls and large dark eyes, but that wasn’t what made Liz watch the little thing for so long. It was his face. It had Maui stamped all over it. He definitely wasn’t Red’s child.

* * *

Someone once asked me where I come from and at first I wanted to say L.A. but then I thought that wasn’t enough. Venice Beach was the next option, but that really wasn’t all that right either. I grew up between Ocean Park and Sea Drive, in a small stretch of apartment buildings that’s Hugh’s Corner. Don’t ask me why it’s Hugh’s Corner, and not Paul’s or Andy’s. It’s Hugh’s Corner, a world of its own.

Ok. So, there’s Ma and Q, Ben, of course, Master An, the wise man, Ray the Monk, the Bernardis, Jamie, Little Miss Tinkerbell, Nova, Mac, Molly and Skip, Cappy, oh my Cappy, Tins in No Ming and Miss Liz. That should be it.

Now, if you knew about me, you’d ask: What about K.J.? And a couple of weeks ago, I’d have said: He left some time back. He’s history. But now with Miss Liz in a coma, I can’t say that anymore.

K.J. and Miss Liz are our neighbors. We, that’s Ma, Q and I, live in Hugh’s Corner 73 and 74. We used to live in the Palisades with my Dad, but after the second time Ma found him in bed with another woman, she filed a divorce and started a new life. No Prince of Bel Air for us. Ma gets alimony, but it’s all put into a trust-fund for Q and myself what with college and all.

There was a time when I believed God existed and miracles could happen. I used to sing in our church just a block away from Marina del Ray. I was a ‘mezzosoprano’ and could hold a note long enough to get a satisfied smile from Pastor Williams. Then Patricia, his wonderful daughter, found me kissing Louis DeJean (tenor) in the backroom, and through her lies and Louis and my own shame, Pat convinced Pastor Williams that we were fornicating under the eyes of God. May I add that Pat had been doing exactly that since Louis moved with his Pa from Dallas. All through our trial in Pastor Williams’ office, I prayed to God that He may exercise his omnipotence and make Pastor Williams understand that Louis and I had only succumbed to the heat of the moment, and only kissed, really, truly, honest to God kissed. He did not. I was expelled from the Choir and Louis cancelled from the next Thanksgiving concert. He stayed on though, as Pat somehow managed to weave the Adam and Eve story into her whole web of lies, which made me the sinner and Louis the victim. What hurt most was that Louis never said anything, he just stopped talking to me as if I had a huge A on my chest.

In any case, by my sixteenth birthday, I’d stopped going to church all together and Ma never said a thing. But this is really about K.J., not me, K.J. who’s got the summer triangle inked under his right ear, what’re they called – oh yeah, Vega, Deneb and Altair. He told me that night, Skip’s birthday barbeque, Miss Liz didn’t mind that he got them. Apparently she said his body was his body, as long as he could deal with the consequences. I wish Ma would say stuff like that.

Anyway, K.J.’s on Maui now. People think he’s surfing, I know he’s looking for his Dad. I don’t know if he’s found him yet, nobody here’s seen or talked to him a really long time, but I have to talk to him now. I just can’t find him. I’ve tried everything save flying over, and I can’t fly over, I don’t have the cash ready and Ma won’t budge. Apparently, I’ve gotta finish school first. Ma always calls college school. I still need to do something though. Miss Liz is in a coma and K.J.’s basically fallen off the face of the earth.

Which is why I’m talking to You, yes, You, up there. Bring him back. Whatever it is, do it. If you’re there, this is your chance. Do something. Now. I’m not gonna pray about it, I’m just sayin’ what needs to be done, so do it. Please. K.J. really needs to come back home now. Like, right now. Not in seven days or forty days or forty years or some weird stuff like that. I mean now, ok? Have him come back home now, really, now, coz Asha Carol’s not about to fly out of India soon and do something about it.