Maui Magic

by Terry Ambrose

  Lexie exchanged a high five with Benni. Tiny laugh lines around the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I’ve never met a real hooker before. This is awesome.”

  The enthusiasm the girls showed must have surprised Chance as much as it had me. I might be a bit uncomfortable, but he was squirming something fierce. This was fun. And the best part was, I’d adjusted to the idea without difficulty. I’d expected Chance would do the same, but he seemed scared to death.

  What was he so afraid of? Maybe he thought he was protecting Lexie, but his girlfriend seemed eager to go on this little outing. “No worries, Chance. Let’s show the ladies a good time.”

  He stared at Lexie. “Are you sure? Really sure? This could get pretty raunchy.”

  Lexie’s face flushed as she gushed. “I am so in.” She leaned back and shimmied her shoulders, then gave Chance a sultry smile and grabbed his arm. “Come on, baby, rock my world.”

  I stared after her. Lexie had a wild side? News to me. She was so sweet and wholesome—the classic girl-next-door. But that shimmy—wow. Chance also seemed taken aback by this version of his girlfriend. Benni grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I stumbled after her and gestured at Lexie. “I think we’ve created a monster.”

  She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You have no idea.”

  The trek to the condo took us past T-shirt shops, a tattoo parlor, and Local Boys Shave Ice. Front Street was one of those places where you were always swimming upstream. It didn’t matter which direction you turned, someone was coming right toward you.

  Within a few blocks, though, we’d maneuvered our way out of the obstacle course and picked up the pace. By the time we passed the Lāhainā Shores Resort, we almost had the road to ourselves. I still expected something bizarre to happen, but it was all quite blasé. There were no cats, no dogs, and no vehicles trying to run us over. In short, the walk was calming and peaceful.

  Back at the condo, we all piled into the Escalade without delay. Chance backed the behemoth down the long driveway while three tipsy backseat drivers kibitzed. By eight-fifteen, we’d all settled in and were well on our way to Wailuku and The Pony Club.

  Unlike the drive into Lāhainā the day before, the traffic was light and moving quickly. Overhead, clouds swallowed the last bit of open sky and a waning crescent moon. The further we drove, the more it looked like we were in for rain, which none of us had prepared for. Even if we hit a downpour, so what? We could always wait a few minutes for it to pass.

  The GPS found the address without difficulty. Those who are new to the islands might find it hard to accept The Pony Club as a legitimate business. Like many of the world’s destinations, Hawai‘i has its own way of doing things. Around here, the cultural differences blend into a canvas of many colors, sort of a real-life oil painting. Like fine art, the results could be appreciated, but the parts could never be separated.

  Developers had thrown up mini strip malls in the area, each containing three to six mom-and-pop shops. Most certainly, the buildings had come long before the current crop of businesses, which included an odd assortment of services ranging from accountants to sewing shops to family-run restaurants. Many signs were in multiple languages, but this one wasn’t. It was simple. Straightforward. Red background. White lettering. English only.

  The Pony Club was the exception in this district. Not because of what went on inside, but because it was a standalone building. I shot a quick glance up and down the block. No doubt the neighbors were delighted to have space between the hostess bar and their more wholesome businesses.

  Raindrops spattered the windshield as Chance parked. He shifted sideways in his seat and looked around. “There aren’t many cars. You sure this is the right place?”

  “There’s the sign.” Benni pointed directly in front of the Escalade. She opened the door and slid out, straightened her shorts, and fluffed her hair. “We got lots of places like this on the Big Island.” She held out a hand, felt a couple of drops, and shrugged. “It’s just a little water. Are you guys coming or what?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I hopped out my side.

  The building’s exterior gave no clue of what business they might transact inside. There was no sign screaming “girls, girls, girls,” which would have been the norm in LA. There, we’d have seen endless gaudy pronouncements done up in big, bold lettering. Not so, here on Maui. It really didn’t matter. It didn’t take a genius to look beyond the building’s exterior.

  “Pretty nondescript,” I said as Chance climbed out into the light rain. “I’ll bet Maui County frowns on these places.”

  “Probably not if they pay their taxes.” He went around the vehicle, took Lexie’s hand, and they rushed ahead of us.

  When I caught up to Benni, she gripped my arm and dragged me forward. “Don’t be a fuddy-duddy.”

  Where there once might have been windows, there were now eight display cases hanging on the walls. The conversion allowed the owner to entice patrons with posters from popular rock bands. I seriously doubted if any of those bands had ever set foot in The Pony Club, but it was a good marketing ploy and I gave the owner an A for effort.

  Two of the cases were quite different. One contained information about the club’s hours, the other, a calendar of community events. To my surprise, the calendar was even current. The idea of a community calendar outside of a strip club seemed incongruous to me.

  At the door, a large bronze-skinned man with a wild mane of frizzy dark hair stopped us. “Twenty bucks each. Cash only.”

  He thrust out a massive hand with thick fingers. I couldn’t help but notice the black tribal armband tattoo circling his forearm. It resembled a painted-on bracelet composed of two sets of interlinking triangles joined by small, squatty diamonds. The peaks of the triangles faced each other to form the outer edges of the band.

  “So that’s eighty altogether?” I hadn’t considered the possibility of a cover charge at a seedy place like this. This trip could get expensive…fast.

  The bouncer shook his head. “Ladies are free. You two…” He pointed at Chance, then me. “You two gotta pay.”

  I was reaching for my wallet when Chance stopped me.

  “I’ve got it, McKenna. No worries.”

  Thank goodness. I smiled at the bouncer. “He’s got it.”

  I loved having a personal ATM. Someday I might even get used to it. Until then, I’d force myself to adjust. I backed away and let Chance pull out two crisp twenties.

  “Wait a second, Chance.” I showed the photo of Hisao to the bouncer.

  “Cover charge first, brah.” He held out his pudgy hand and waited. When Chance handed over the money, the bouncer gave the photo a cursory glance and said, “I ain’t seen him.”

  “How’d you know what I was going to ask?” It seemed like a stupid question once it was out, but the damage was already done.

  “Serious, brah? It always the same thing when someone got a photo to show.” He pulled a small device from his cargo shorts and kept one eye on Chance as he scanned the bills. “Can’t be too careful these days.” His crooked smile reminded me of a boxer who’d taken one too many punches.

  Once he was satisfied we weren’t passing counterfeit money, he pushed the door open and cocked his head toward the inside. “Have a nice time. It’s 80s Night.”

  13

  The heavy beat of an 80s rock song assaulted us the moment the door opened. The vibration pulsed deep inside me with each step I took and every thump of the bass. The Pony Club could only be described as a sensory battle zone where morals and base instincts fought for control.

  Visually, the interior looked like a rabbit warren of dark corners and intimate seating. Red and purple spot lighting lit up the little enclaves, creating an eerie glow where privacy was more illusion than reality. Upholstered booths and couches, also done in purple, lined the perimeter of the room. In the middle, where you might
expect to find a dance floor, a smattering of tables and chairs dotted the area. For some reason, the cushions on the central seating were a sedate tan.

  Large wooden masks, each approximately two feet in height, hung on the walls. The eyes and mouth on each glowed from a dim light, creating a spooky vision that left me wondering if hidden cameras watched us. TVs mounted above the masks played music videos and sports games. The illumination from each was negligible, which was consistent with the general ambience—early sleaze.

  An Asian woman wearing lacy shorts and a flimsy top approached. From a distance, she seemed pretty, but with a closer look, I realized how far past her prime she was. Underneath the bulky false eyelashes, heavy mascara, and dark lipstick were the signs of a hard life. Signs of a soul worn down by circumstance and bad choices.

  Benni peered at me. “McKenna? You okay?”

  Her eyes sparkled even in the light of this dingy bar. It was all I needed to pull myself away from the lonely place I’d been moments before. “Just being reminded of how beautiful you really are.”

  She did a double take. A smile spread across her face and she made a show of fanning herself with one hand. “That is not what I thought you were going to say. My, my, I’d better watch myself.”

  Three women wearing too much makeup and too little clothing sat in a booth against the far wall. One glanced our way, nodded at the others, and stood.

  Lexie edged closer to Chance, her eyes wide. Right about now, I was positive she regretted her decision to come here. Maybe Chance felt the same because he clasped her hand and kissed her on the lips.

  He winked at her and cocked his head at me. “What McKenna said.”

  Lexie brightened as she glanced around and sniffed. She made a face, then laughed and sat. “Nice place. My dad would so freak out if he knew about this. I love it.”

  Actually, I’d bet Lexie’s father would ship her off to a convent if he even suspected where Chance had brought her. He might also hire a hit man to deal with the scum who ruined his daughter. I plopped into the chair next to Benni, but directed my comment at Chance. “You know how to pick the places, buddy.”

  “Not me,” he said as he sat. “This one’s on Hisao. Hard to believe he came here.”

  The woman who strutted toward us from the booth locked her sights on Chance. It made me wonder how she zeroed in on the guy with the money. She might have based her assessment on age. In her case, young probably meant eager. And eager meant more cash.

  I’d heard rumors of hostess bars running the gamut from high end to seedy. This one hung on a notch below the bottom peg. “Have to agree with you there.”

  Our waitress had purple curly hair down to the middle of her back. She wore stilettos and swayed with a smooth motion hard to ignore. Her micro skirt left little to the imagination. She assumed a position next to Chance with one hip cocked. Her arms hung relaxed at her sides. “Ladies.” She nodded at Benni and Lexie. “What can I get you?”

  “House red,” Benni said.

  Lexie bit her upper lip, then shrugged. “White—chardonnay if you have it.”

  The waitress acknowledged the orders, then took Chance’s and mine before swaying back to the bar. I almost choked as I watched her. Yikes. I hadn’t considered what she might—or might not—be wearing underneath.

  “It’s a thong, McKenna.” Benni smiled at me. “And she needs to work out more.”

  My cheeks burned with the realization I’d been caught ogling our waitress. She wasn’t even that good looking, and now Benni was enjoying my embarrassment. I leaned back in my seat and put up a nonchalant facade. “I wasn’t staring, was I?”

  “Only a little. At least you didn’t drool.” Benni chuckled, then scanned the room. “Not so bad—if you don’t mind sterilizing yourself when you leave.”

  The air smelled of a putrid blend of mold, perfume, and alcohol. The girls working here were all Asian. No surprise. From what I’d heard, they came here for many reasons. Some were tricked into believing this path led to freedom, others were forced by circumstance to find quick cash. It didn’t matter why they came, they all had the same job—entertaining men.

  The few customers in the room, with a single exception, were all men. The lone woman made a point of fawning over her male companion. She gave so much deliberate attention to “her date,” I could only surmise there was money at stake.

  The wail of a guitar solo, a throwback to the heyday of rock-and-roll, cut through the air, but the grim atmosphere jerked me into the here-and-now. This was not a place of joy, but a way to fulfill a burning need. In the stories I’d heard about Honolulu’s high-end hostess bars I’d learned they were popular with businessmen because they provided a place to conduct meetings while women catered to their whims.

  I turned to Chance and yelled over the music. “Why don’t you talk to the waitress and I’ll hit up the bartender?”

  He nodded and tossed a fifty on the table. “Take it. Insurance.” He winked.

  More chump change from the ATM. Nice. I snatched the bill, hoping it would be enough.

  Benni stood and took my arm. Her head and body bounced in time to the pounding bass. “I’ll go with you.”

  Sure, why not? Didn’t every leading man have a babe on his arm? I indicated the bar with a tilt of my chin like any good tough guy, which made Benni snicker. But, the moment she took my hand, her smile fell away. I glanced in the direction she’d been looking. A sunburned, sandy-haired man with intense eyes was staring at her. I stepped between them. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, and her smile returned. “No worries. I’m fine.”

  The guy in the corner looked like he was itching for a fight. I pegged him to be a tough guy with a macho name, something like Dirk. From his rugged appearance, the outcome of an altercation with him was predetermined. I had no desire to make a trip to the ER for a broken nose, cracked skull, or whatever else he wanted to dole out. So, good old caution—okay, fear—kept me from marching over to his table and telling Dirk to back off.

  Benni clasped my hand as we walked to the bar. Take that, lecher. He glared at me for a moment, then broke eye contact and turned his attention to Lexie. I smiled at the probable outcome if Dirk tried to make a move on her and how quickly he’d learn he’d made a really bad choice by not minding his own business. The mistake could definitely land him in the hospital.

  Chance looked all meek and mild, but he probably had a black belt stashed away in his closet. He was overly modest and refused to talk about the subject, but I’d seen him take down bigger guys in a matter of seconds.

  Benni and I eased ourselves onto adjoining stools at the bar. The bartender, a short and stocky man with a neatly trimmed beard and copper skin, stood at the other end filling our orders. At this distance, I couldn’t judge his age, but with any luck at all he’d be a talker and hungry for a big tip.

  White mini lights had been strung overhead. The back wall sparkled with reflected light on glass. Red, purple, and white colors mixed together in the mirror behind. I had to admit, from absinthe to whiskey, the Pony Club had it all.

  The bartender approached, carrying two glasses of red wine, as our waitress returned to the table with the order for Chance and Lexie. He slid our drinks across the bar while letting his eyes flick back-and-forth between Benni and me. “You must want something, brah.”

  I laid the fifty in front of him.

  “That for the wine or the information?” His eyes never wavered from mine.

  Benni took a sip. “Not bad for a house red.”

  The bartender blinked at her, then shrugged. “The owner is making some upgrades.”

  Upgrades? Sure, why not, everyone should have goals. I put a hand on the bill, slid it a bit closer, but made sure to keep my grip. “That’s for the information. Our friend at the table will handle the drinks. I’m McKenna, this is Benni.”

  Al
l I got in return was one of those am-I-supposed-to-be-impressed stares. I licked my lips and waited.

  “Gimme a minute.” He left us to take an order from a bleached-blonde Korean girl with thick eyelashes and pouty lips.

  I tipped my glass at Benni and we clinked them in a toast. “To us.”

  She winked. “You do know how to impress a girl. You come here often?”

  “Only with you.” I did my best to give her a roguish smile, but from the way she pursed her lips, I must have failed. The bartender was still engaged, which gave me the chance to ask the big question. It was what had been bothering me since we’d agreed to come here. “You said you got the call from Mrs. Nakamura while you were on the beach with Lexie.”

  She nodded. Sipped from her glass. Not a word. She knew what was coming. The slippery slope. One bad move and I’d be sliding into relationship hell. I might not do the roguish leading man well, but I could do casual.

  “I was curious. What kept you from telling me about the call right away?”

  “I figured you’d get around to this sooner or later. Look, McKenna, I love you, but you can be a bit difficult at times.”

  Ouch. Difficult. Okay, I could work on difficult. “In what ways?”

  Her eyes seemed to search my face as though she were deciding how far she could take this conversation. She sighed and said, “You can be very resistant to new ideas.”

  Double ouch. Difficult and resistant. Okay, I admit I’m not what marketers would call an Early Adopter, but…no, I refused to let myself go there. “So, um, what did you think I’d do?”

  “I knew you’d come around sooner or later. That’s what’s important.” She turned sideways in her seat. By avoiding my gaze, she was sending me another signal—nothing more for you, buddy. At least, not yet.

  I sat and waited, hoping she had more to say, and not willing to interrupt the moment if she did. Aerosmith blasted from the speakers. The TVs glowed with their second-rate videos. I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation in a bump-and-grind dive and not in a nice restaurant with a romance-me-slowly atmosphere.