Phantom Lover

by A. J. Llewellyn

  We drove in Tutu’s truck to the tiny port town of Kawaihae. For a moment, I felt I could have been in Italy or the south of France. We parked and wandered over to Café Pesto, overlooking the bustling port and although fishermen were hauling in the day’s catch, there was not a single sea gull in sight, but then there never are in Hawaii.

  There were the sounds of laughter and there was the special sound of Kimo laughing as I told him about Roland walking on stage with toilet paper wadded into his malo, or loin cloth, one night in a show in California.

  I had yet to see Kimo in his signature red malo up close and I longed for the moment when I did. We ordered pizza and ice cream, then he said he wanted to take me somewhere he had never taken anyone before.

  We drove a short way from Kawaihae past Pu’ukohola Heiau, King Kamehameha the Great’s open-air temple. The place has the worst mana, or energy, emanating from it. I knew Kamehameha had sacrificed many human lives from this place and it never failed to chill me, even before I knew of its dreadful history.

  “We’re not going there, are we?” I asked him.

  “No, not there, but somewhere close. Do you trust me?”

  “Of course,” I said without hesitation and I saw him smile. He drove down toward the rocky outcrop of the ocean. Ahead of us, the temple was shrouded by Mauna Kea, which I had come to think of as our mountain.

  “Take your clothes off.” Kimo’s voice was a command.

  “What, here?”

  He nodded, reaching into the small cabin behind us and handing me a wetsuit.

  “I think this will fit.”

  We stripped quickly and he let me fondle his gorgeous cock for a brief moment before it disappeared. Hiding the truck’s keys under a rock, he took me by the hand and led me into the water. It was freezing. We leapt in together and Kimo shouted for me to follow him. We ducked under water and I followed him.

  Coming up for air, I slid back under and found him streaking past me to a large dark object ahead. It was a long, flat rock, black and lava-like. Ahead of it, I saw what looked like a vast underwater canyon.

  I rose to the surface, gasping for breath.

  Kimo swam over to me.

  “What is it?” I asked. “The flat thing?”

  “Hale-o-Kapuni.” He was looking ecstatic. “It’s an old shark heiau, where human remains were fed to the sharks.”

  Suddenly, I felt very weird. Why was he bringing me here? But I could see he was so pleased with his discovery and I hoped I hid my discomfort well.

  “Baby, nobody knows it’s here. It sank decades ago and people think it’s a myth, but you and I know it’s real.”

  He pulled me into his arms, unzipping my wetsuit.

  “Oh, I get it.” The penny dropped. “I’m another offering, a live offering for the sharks.”

  My hands were on his ass now as his fingers reaching around for me. “Exactly,” he whispered as I struggled to remove him from his wet suit.

  “What is the big cavern down there?” I asked.

  “A new volcano. It will emerge in five hundred thousand years.”

  The awe that inspired in both of us stopped us from tearing at each other for a moment.

  “We won’t be alive then,” I said.

  “Some part of us will.” His voice was grave and soft. “And the sharks will tell all.”

  He held me to him as his cock found its favorite place and I fell back as Kimo held me to him, fucking me, telling me how good it felt to be inside me again. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he trod water, to keep himself afloat.

  We felt the waves coming and I laughed as a big one washed over us, throwing us down to the flatbed of rock. Kimo was pulled out of me and, when he caught me to him, we frantically tried to get him inside me again. I was holding onto craggy rocks at the shore as Kimo stuck himself back into me and fucked me with my legs up over his shoulders.

  The feeling was unbelievable.

  “Oh God,” he moaned. “I wish I could fuck you like this on dry land.”

  “Feed me to the sharks, Kimo. Come on. Show them how you fuck your man!”

  And he grabbed my waist, plunging in and out of me, coming so hard, he slipped under the water, carrying me with him.

  We were joined together, fused by his cock. His open mouth reached for me and I felt the rising fire of his orgasm rip through me.

  When we came back to the surface, we laughed and shook with the force of that amazing moment.

  “Consider yourself fed.” He gave me a hard kiss, pulling his cock out of me.

  * * * *

  Two weeks later, we were getting close to being ready to perform our show. Five days before we were to open in Honolulu, Kimo told us we would be heading back to Honolulu in two days’ time for publicity and photographs.

  The shift in his attention to me was swift. He started avoiding me and, that afternoon, told me we could no longer sleep together.

  “Buy why?” I asked, wanting to cry. “Why can’t we keep seeing each other until we go home?”

  “This is hard for me. Can’t you see that? I have to go back to my wife. It’s better if we just cut things now. Rip off that Band-Aid.”

  “If that’s what you want.” I was devastated.

  “It’s what I want.”

  I had no idea what it was going to be like sleeping next to him, but not being able to touch him, but he never returned to our room. Zombie-like, I went through the motions each day, not believing that he had just flipped the switch like that.

  He just stayed away from me and never spent a minute alone with me after he told me it was over.

  I went to see my tutu the day we were leaving. I kept it together until I saw her face. She held her arms out to me, her fingers touching my face.

  “You love him very much, don’t you?” Tutu’s voice was soft.

  I nodded, unable to speak. Great tears splashed from my eyes and the sounds of heart-racked sobs filled the small house.

  Tutu waited while I cried and, embarrassed, I wiped at my nose and she leaned toward me, handing me a gravelly a’a lava stone. It was rough in texture and red, rather than black and when I closed my fingers around it, the stone felt like it was on fire.

  “Tutu,” I gasped. “It’s on fire.”

  “It’s energized. Take it with you so Pele is always with you. The energy will wane and that’s when you know you need to come home and put new life into your a’a.”

  “But, Tutu, I can’t take one of Pele’s children. It’s stealing.”

  Grandma’s face turned fierce. “You are one of Pele’s children and it’s not stealing. It’s only borrowing. You need her strength, boy.”

  The stone burned so hard in my hand I felt sure I would see blisters if I looked at the palm. “I am so afraid, Grandma. I am losing him and I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

  “Oh, my boy, he’s far more afraid than you are. Know that. Believe that.”

  “He’s afraid?”

  She smiled at me. “He fears what he feels for you. You are not quite the package he expected. Listen to me, Lopaka. You will need her love. Pele will squeeze you, but she won’t kill you. You are one of her children, a child of her land, as much as this stone. Your stone will enjoy its new adventure but when it grows cold, you need to bring it home. And you will know patience and that love must come naturally. And one day, you won’t need this stone anymore.”

  Grandma held me in her arms like she had when I was a little boy. I had a sudden flashback to a night when I had a raging fever, as hot as the stone in my hand, and when I cried for my mother, the woman who had abandoned me, Tutu told me that my mother loved me in a distant way, the only kind of love some people can give.

  “I keep finding people who don’t want me,” I said and Grandma looked old and sad.

  “You need to be patient with him. He is a good man. He isn’t your mother and he isn’t Johnny. Love him with your whole heart. Just be you. And wait. If I can give you any advice it’s that you should b
e afraid. Be afraid and still do it. Don’t be afraid to wait.”

  That gave me hope and when I got up to leave, the empty, achy feeling I’d walked in with was gone. My stone seemed to tingle in my fingers and I took it back to my room with me, preparing for our return to Honolulu and the empty nights ahead of me without Kimo.

  * * * *

  Kimo and I sat separately on the plane. As usual, I was sitting beside Roland, who was bubbling with excitement about his baby adoption plans. Kimo had packed his belongings before I had, leaving me to pack alone. There had been no long, emotional, or even a quick, sexy goodbye.

  My lava stone felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket and, when I stole a glance at Kimo, his eyes were closed and he was listening to his I-pod. I looked at his long lashes and the strong arms that had held me. And the stone seemed to crackle in my pants. Kimo’s eyes flew open and he looked straight at me.

  He turned his face away.

  “…and anyway, I told David that if he thinks he’s getting away with not changing diapers or anything like that, well, then he doesn’t know me at all.”

  I tuned back into Roland, smiling at him. This was what it meant to be loved. Babies and diapers and being together. What I’d shared with Kimo was the best thing that ever happened to me. I had a yardstick now and I knew I could never go back to the situation with Johnny, even if I felt lonely.

  I wanted Kimo back, but the truth was, I knew going in that he was married. I walked right into the bear trap and it had closed on my paw. Only Kimo could free me. For me, that was what it meant to be loved.

  “Well, Roland, you and David can count me in as a babysitter.”

  And Roland smiled. I was happy for him, I really was. And just like Rachel said on the TV series Friends, I was only ten percent jealous.

  * * * *

  It was strange being back in Honolulu with its noise and excitement. Nicky picked me up at the airport and, when I hugged her, I caught Kimo’s gaze on us. He gave me a quick smile that for me was like a shot of heroin, and vanished.

  “How are you?” Nicky said. I loved Nicky. Gorgeous, blonde and always wearing a wooden turtle necklace. She had found true happiness with Kaiona. She hadn’t changed a bit, despite being an old married lady.

  Linking her arm through mine, she walked outside with me. Kimo was waiting out front, cell phone to his ear. He saw us and snapped the phone shut.

  “Is Mim collecting you?” Nicky asked.

  “She’s supposed to be. I just called her. I keep getting her voicemail.”

  “Well, why don’t you let me give you a ride?” she said.

  “No. She might still turn up. Thanks, though. I appreciate the offer.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll tell you what, we’ll go get the car and swing by and if you’re still standing here, we’ll rescue you.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t seem very happy with the idea.

  My heart sank. It would be torture to be in a car with him, unable to touch him. I thought about the night on that old sugar road and my spirits flopped.

  Nicky and I walked to her car. “You got your heart broken, didn’t you?” She never did miss a trick, my friend Nicky. “Who was it? Another dancer?” When I didn’t reply, she kept up an entertaining patter about her own baby-making discussions with Kaiona, who was anxious for children.

  “She wants to get me knocked up so that I won’t think of leaving her. Honestly, where does she think I’m going to go?”

  We went by Kimo and found he was still there.

  “Hello, sailor,” Nicky joked.

  I got out of the front seat and offered it to him. “You need the leg room,” I said.

  “You sure, ba—Uh…Bobby?”

  “Absolutely.” Bobby. I was back to Bobby now. I climbed in back and the stone in my pocket sizzled.

  Kimo and Nicky kept up a steady stream of small talk. They knew many hula people in common and she asked about the show. I kept up a steady stream of silence as we dovetailed from Nimitz Highway up Nu’uanu Pali toward the mountains. Past the old Oahu Cemetery and the Royal Mausoleum, we were in the Manoa Valley, a lush, very old neighborhood populated by locals, many of whom have lived there for decades.

  Nicky followed Kimo’s directions and we came across a big tall wooden fence that was spiked with wrought-iron leaves and flowers. It was a beautiful work of art. Beyond it, I could see a sprawling, plantation style house and massive banana palms. I could hear music coming from inside the house.

  “You can leave me here.” Kimo was insistent.

  “Don’t be silly.” Nicky giggled. “Oh. Is this an intercom? Very fancy.” She pulled up beside a small metal box, reached out and pressed a silver button.

  “Aloha.”A voice crackled.

  “Aloha, Keo, it’s me, Kimo.”

  “Aloha, Kimo. Mrs. Mim she’s not here. She went to Maui this morning. She back tonight.”

  Kimo looked surprised. “Okay, well, can you let me in?”

  More crackling, then the massive gate swung open and I was treated to a wide-lens look at the home Kimo shared with his wife. The life he lived away from me. It was magnificent. He climbed out, grabbed his bag from the backseat and thanked Nicky profusely.

  “See you Thursday night, opening show.” Kimo kissed her cheek. “You too, Bobby, yeah?” He turned and walked away from me.

  Nicky and I piled back into the car. We were well on our way to Waikiki when she said, “It’s him, isn’t it? He’s the guy you got involved with.”

  I didn’t even bother denying it. It would have been stupid to lie to her.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Bobby, he looks miserable, too.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s he like?” She giggled again. “Mim’s always complaining that he’s got one hell of a package.”

  “Don’t talk about him like that. Not Kimo…” I turned my face away so she wouldn’t see that I was crying. I was crying me a red-hot lava lake of tears.

  * * * *

  Nicky was so good to me. She soothed my jangled nerves. If anybody understood about coming out of the closet, it was Nicky, who did it in her relationship with Kaiona.

  Over coffee, I told her everything, well almost. She was enthralled by the shark heiau and the volcano fuck-fest.

  “Give it time, Bobby. Listen, never tell Kaiona I said this, but I think Kimo is the sort of guy that once he’s out of the closet, he’ll break it down and use it as kindling.”

  Dear, lovely, sweet, Nicky. I could not picture Kimo ever coming out, but she made me feel a lot better and I arrived home to find my fifteenth floor studio apartment in Waikiki exactly how I left it.

  No Menehune, the Hawaiian fairy-folk, had turned up to do any cleaning while I was away, so the dirty cup and plates I’d left in the sink were still there. I put my lava stone on the mantelpiece in my small living room that doubled as my bedroom, entertainment headquarters and refuge from all that ails me.

  My neighbor had collected my mail and watered my plants, but I told my new housemate to wait while I cleaned and dusted and watered and made the place feel loved again. Two whole days without a glimpse of Kimo ahead of me. How would I get through it?

  When I was done and I’d opened up the bed, putting clean sheets on it, I lit some incense, picked up my stone and as it gleamed hotly in my hand, I slept, visions of tangling naked with Kimo, right there, the moment I shut my eyes.

  I felt better after a good rest. Not as good as I did with Kimo wrapped around me, my cock in his possessive grip. But I had promised my lava stone a good time and I took him around Waikiki, showing him the cool surfing spots, the statue of Duke Kahanamoku at Kuhio Beach, then I took him shopping.

  We went to Foodland and stocked up on groceries. Dragging out my Maika’i discount card for my purchases was a reminder that I was back to reality. For the next two days, I didn’t leave the studio, except to take Lava Boy out for an afternoon walk and a coffee, as a small reward all the way down the end of the promena
de by Diamond Head crater.

  I watched the group of guys playing volleyball at the end of the beach. They’d attracted quite a crowd. I normally loved to play Spot The Cutest Ass, but I really had no interest and I wandered off after I’d drained the last sip of coffee and walked in a meandering fashion back toward home. I bought coconut scented candles at my favorite home store and picked red and yellow hibiscus flowers outside my building. I was now ready to make a little altar for Pele and a nice resting spot for Lava Boy. Already I could feel his heat diminishing. I prayed I could keep him active and happy until we were back on the Big Island for the show.

  Like me, he was missing his life source. I thought about Kimo’s beautiful face and the way he looked when he laughed and I thought I might die.

  Lava Boy hummed in my pocket as if to say, I’m here.

  I hugged him back with my whole hand. I know.

  * * * *

  I didn’t see Kimo in person again until we all met at the theater the day before our opening show for a live TV interview. Kimo did all the talking whilst we pretended to be doing a last rehearsal on the stage.

  Roland and I watched the stage crew setting up the fire ring, in which Kimo would dance the story of Pele and Kamapua’a. The show was going to be more spectacular than any of us realized it was going to be, complete with thunder and lightning and an old track Kimo added to the final mix of a volcano erupting.

  I never got anywhere near Kimo who was surrounded by the media. I was surprised however, that Mim was nowhere in sight.

  “She’s such a camera hog,” Roland said to me. “I thought for sure she’d be here. Say, you wanna grab some lunch?”

  Roland wanted to talk about his adoption problems and mounting arguments with his lover, David. At a strip mall around the corner from the theater, he said to me, “Grab a table at the Noodle Café. I’ll be right there.”

  I watched him go into the first floor of a dubious-looking building and went off to wait for him at the café. He never showed up, so I ate lunch alone, wondering if Johnny ever thought about me. Then Kimo arrived at the café with Ginger and Eddie and for the first time since he’d dumped me, he looked at me. I felt more of a loser than ever because I was by myself.