“If she cool with you, we give you one chance. Show us how you guys surf. No newbs allowed.”
“I’m not a newb and Izzy here can tear it up.”
“For real? Okay Izzy, this next swell stay all yours.”
We all turned around and saw this humongous swell coming, much bigger than the last, but I wasn’t worried. Izzy was comfortable on big waves. This one was looking to be about six to seven feet. I gave her a wink as she paddled into position. The swell started to form at the top as parts of the wave started to crumble. Izzy paddled hard as the swell picked her up. It looked like she was going to miss the wave but at the last minute her board tilted down and she was up and off.
We all could see her blond hair appearing and disappearing as she carved up and down the wave. Suddenly it pitched high and began to barrel over where she should have been. All we could hear was the echoed sound of her celebrating deep inside the tube. I was worried that she was too far back and the wave would close out on her, but at the last second she shot out and carved up the last of the face of the wave before it deteriorated into white wash. She was waving her fist in the air as she paddled back out.
I looked back at the big guy with a smile. The smirk was gone but no smile. He then pointed to the next swell. I got into position. I did not want to miss this wave. The pressure was on.
The swell hit my board, lifting me up. In front of me was a steep drop down the face of a large wave. The wave must have taken off its Spanx, ‘cause this sucker just doubled in size. I paddled as hard as I could—missing the wave would be worse. Immediately my shoulders felt the burn. I couldn’t believe it. Fatigue? Already? I pointed the front of my board down and began moving across the mountain of water. I stood up with a bit of wobble but I held it together. I had to surf a perfect wave. I needed both Izzy and me to get the okay.
I sped to the bottom of the wave and made a wide turn beginning my ascent back up the big blue wall. That’s when I saw it. The lip of the wave was cresting. It was going to pitch over me. I was about to get a huge barrel, big enough to stand straight up in. This was a first. So naturally, I panicked.
My board started to wobble for no reason. I sounded the alarms. My legs were well aware of what was at stake. Don’t get weak on me now. The next thing I knew, the wave pitched over me. There I was, tucked about three feet back inside of the barrel. The roar of the wave echoed. So this is what it’s like to get barreled. I quickly remembered to hoop and holler so that the crew could hear that I was in a tube ride. Everything was going great, until I looked down and realized only a foot of water separated me from the reef. The signs were clear: Do. Not. Fall. You’d have to be an idiot not to see them. So when my legs started to wobble again, it was safe to say I might be an idiot. I couldn’t control them. They were like weeble wobbles with minds of their own. Why me? Why not someone else? Because you own us, that’s why!
I wiped out but someone was on my side because I ended up perfectly fine. Not a single scratch. I don’t know if the reef suddenly ended or if the wave provided a cushion. Someone took pity on me and made sure my Darbytastic ride remained that way.
When I returned to Izzy and the pack of surfers, they were chatting it up like they were all one big happy family. The big guy who was talking to us earlier extended his hand. “Aloha. My name Kawika. Your girl stay better than you, but you not bad either. Welcome to the surf.”
“Kawika! You going let them surf here?” Kalani shouted. “These fucking haoles don’t belong here. This our ocean. Go back to the mainland where you belong.”
Kalani paddled up to me, his board hitting mine. “What you looking at, huh?”
Just then some of the others members of the Black & Blue pulled Kalani back.
“Go cool off, Kalani,” Kawika called out.
Kalani stared at me for what seemed like hours. This guy didn’t even know me, but clearly he had already developed hatred. Eventually he turned away and paddled toward shore, but I had a feeling I was going to have to deal with this character again.
“Eh, Darby. No worry. Kalani’s young and hot-headed. He doesn’t represent the mentality of the Black & Blue. You guys stay welcomed here.”
The broad shouldered leader introduced us to the rest of the gang. Each one had a Hawaiian name, which I of course forgot as soon as he said them. Thankfully Izzy had a brain that retained information like social network.
“We get rules. Everybody gotta follow them. Respect the land and the water. It’s the most important. If we take care of them,” he said motioning around with his arms, “they going take care of us.”
Sounds easy enough so far.
“If you no have first position on the wave, back off. No drop-ins.”
Got it. I’m not a dropper.
“Lastly, be nice. Spread the aloha.”
Oh, I’ll spread it.
I looked at Izzy and she smiled back at me. “We’re on board.”
“Great. So guys, we get one beach cleanup this weekend at the Pipe. Everybody brings a dish for one big potluck. We spend the morning cleaning and the rest of the day eating and surfing. Plenty of fun.”
Sounded fun to me. Better to be friends with the Black & Blue than enemies, so we gladly accepted the invitation.
Chapter 12
We spent the rest of the day surfing Chun’s Reef and then catching a few winks at home. That was island living, and neither of us was complaining. It was nearly eight at night when our stomachs motivated us to search for food. I was brushing my teeth and Izzy was soaking in the tub when I heard a knock at the front door. I looked at Izzy with a raised eyebrow and she answered me with raised shoulders and then closed her eyes. I closed the bathroom door and headed to the front door. It was Momi.
“Hi, Darby. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Hey, Momi! Come inside,” I motioned. “Izzy’s taking a bath, but she should be out soon.”
Momi kicked off her sandals before stepping in. “I heard you guys had a great time at Chun’s Reef.”
“Word travels fast around here,” I said. “I guess you heard we met the Black & Blue while we were there.”
“It was no big deal, right?”
“Well, it was a little intimidating at first, but eventually we proved we were worthy.”
Just then, Izzy came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel with her hair wet and clinging to her shoulders and back. “I thought I heard talking out here.”
Momi laughed. “Guilty as charged, Miss Rapunzel. I stopped by to see if you guys were interested in a little nightlife.”
“Actually, we are,” I said. “We haven’t eaten yet and had thought of going out to get something.”
“Great! Tag along with me. I’ll take you to Kolohe’s.”
Izzy went into the bedroom and a few seconds later, we could hear the sound of the hair dryer. I pointed to a chair. “Have a seat,” I said, grabbing two beers from the fridge. I opened them both and handed one to Momi.
Momi tipped the bottle back. “Thanks.”
“This place, Kolohe’s. I think I saw it earlier. It’s a bar and grill, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. It’s a local hangout where everybody goes to relax. I can introduce you two to a few of my friends.”
• • •
About forty minutes later we were sitting at a table inside Kolohe’s drinking beers and waiting on our food. The place had a friendly vibe and local surfer décor. Momi seemed to know everyone there and introduced us around. We met so many people with Hawaiian names, I gave up trying to keep track, though one person Momi introduced me to I wouldn’t forget: a giant of a man who went by the name of Braddah Moku.
Braddah Moku was the bouncer at Kolohe’s and he wasn’t anyone to mess with. This guy was intimidating from fifty feet away. He looked to be about six feet, three inches tall and weighed about two hundred twenty pounds, rock solid. He had long black hair braided into a ponytail. Tattoos, mostly Hawaiian tribal, littered both his arms and his neck. When
I shook his hand, I had no idea where mine went. The strange thing was, he had a very quiet, serene voice. It was inviting and friendly. Momi told me that Braddah Moku was a guy you wanted on your side. I couldn’t agree more.
After eating, I decided to see what I could do about getting Braddah Moku on my side. Izzy and Momi were chin deep in girl talk, which I had no interest in being a part of. Seeing that he was drinking a beer, I got two at the bar and headed over.
I handed Braddah Moku a beer just as he drained the last of the one he had in his hand. “You look thirsty.”
“Darby. Thanks, eh brah. So, how you guys liking the North Shore?”
“It’s great. The surfing is amazing. The people are nice and the food… I love Loco Moco.”
The big man chuckled and clinked his bottle against mine. “Here’s to Hawaii.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“You both surf?” Braddah Moku asked, motioning to Izzy with his head.
“Yeah, but she’s much better than I am.”
“You guys met the Black & Blue?”
I nodded and took another sip. “We passed the test. We’re good.”
“They just trying to keep order out there. Hawaii is popular for surfing. Someone gotta regulate the waters. Know what I mean?”
“Anybody else we should know about?” I asked jokingly.
“Yeah, brah. You see that guy sitting at the end of the bar drinking?”
“Yeah.”
“He stay one member of the North Beach Boys—the NBB. They one gang that operates in the area.”
“Gang, as in organized crime?”
“Yeah, but they small time. They run all the poker games and the cock fights on this side of the island. That stay their big operation. The big crime organizations are run by the Yakuza.”
“The Yakuza is in Hawaii?” What are you doing, Darb? Stop asking all these gang questions. The average person doesn’t ask about this stuff, especially with someone they just met. Plus, you’re out of the game, so what does it matter?
“They always been here. They get one monopoly on the ice trade.”
“The NBB isn’t involved with the drug trade?” Darb! Shut it.
“They wish they was but the NBB doesn’t have the muscle to get into that game. Some of them prey on the tourists, though.”
“How?”
“Theft mostly. Every now and then there’s mugging. But us locals don’t like it, so when it gets out of hand, we usually come down on them. But you know… Only takes a couple to ruin it for all. We need the tourist dollars.”
“So why is he here?”
“What, Darby? You practicing to become one detective or what?”
“Sorry for all the questions. It’s interesting stuff.”
“He the only one I let come inside here—he stay cousins with the owner. He’s not that bad of a guy. But a lot of them are punks. They always looking for one fight when they drink. Stay away from them.”
I thanked Braddah Moku for the conversation and made my way back to the where Izzy and Momi were sitting. The two were still yapping their girl talk. This time the conversation revolved around hair; they were comparing split ends. I got up and got the table another round of beers. I didn’t mind being the third wheel to this conversation. The truth was, I couldn’t stop thinking about the NBB. I don’t know why. I had no plans to recruit another gang—though this one seemed conveniently tempting.
Chapter 13
Kolohe’s wasn’t the only place that night that had a lot of action. The North Beach Boys also had a party going on. This party, though, was invitation only. Guests would have to drive about two miles west of Haleiwa toward the old Dillingham airstrip. North of that, in the mountains, is where the festivities were normally held. They’d need a four-wheel drive vehicle to make it all the way.
There were two checkpoints. Right off of Farrington Highway, near a dirt road, was the first. Parked near the juncture of the dirt road and the highway was a food truck selling shrimp. Except, nobody inside the van was actually selling any shrimp. This was where guests checked in. They needed to know the secret word and their name had to be on the list. If they checked in successfully, they received a colored poker chip.
About a quarter of a mile in on the dirt road, there was another checkpoint. A truck would appear to be giving another truck a jump-start. Of course, neither was disabled. Guests would again check in and produce the chip they were given at the first checkpoint. Continuing along the bumpy road, they would finally arrive at what looked like an abandoned building. It was anything but that.
Inside the building was a rowdy crowd of men of all ages, shouting and cheering. Fists full of money punched the air as their attention focused on the center where a six-foot by six-foot pen stood, framed with a twelve-inch high wooden wall. Inside, a bustle of colorful feathers mish-mashed against each other, rising almost three feet off the ground. The high-pitched screech of the blood sport was loud enough to cut through the roar of the crowd. The tangle of feathers pulled away and dropped back to the ground, revealing two cocks strutting. The dry dirt sucked greedily at the wound one of the roosters had sustained in the last mêlée.
The owner of the injured rooster, a small man in dirty faded jeans, work boots and a cowboy hat, picked up the bird. He held it tightly by its ankles, carefully avoiding the metal spurs adhered to each leg. Lifting up each wing, he surveyed the bird’s injury. A second later he waved his hand; his rooster was done. The crowd erupted in cheers and bet takers began working the crowd once again as two fresh opponents were brought into the pen.
Past the crowd, on the other side of the building, was a single wooden door. Seated next to it were two big men with long, kinky hair pulled back into ponytails. They were dressed in jeans and T-shirts. Sleeves of black tribal designs covered their arms from the wrist up.
In the room were four to five members of the NBB. They monitored the fights using nine cameras placed around the building. This was also the vault room, where the money from the winning bets from outside was collected, counted and stashed away.
Akahi was the leader of the North Beach Boys. He made the two big slabs of meat guarding the door look like a couple of chicken wings. This was because Akahi liked two things in life: eating and eating. Beside his size, as if there needed to be some other descriptive, he had a very noticeable scar across his chin. He never discussed it, and no one ever asked.
Akahi raised a beer to his mouth and drained the remaining three quarters of it in one sip. The bottle looked like a toy in his hand. He signaled one of his men for another.
His second-in-command was his cousin, Henry. He was one of the few local boys who had gone by his English name since he was born.
“Henry, what’s the take so far?” Akahi asked in his soft-spoken voice before tilting a fresh bottle back.
“I say we get around twenty-five K. We about halfway through the fights so if all goes well, we should settle in just under fifty.”
“Where Roger at?”
“He’s behind, taking care of the problem I told you about earlier.”
Behind the building, Roger Kwan and a few other members were going to work on a guy for cheating at a poker game the NBB hosted last week. Usually a beating was all it took to shape someone up.
“They brought the guy here?” Akahi asked.
Henry looked back at Akahi and laughed. “Get this; that stupid fucker came here to bet on the birds. I don’t know what he was thinking.”
“Brah, he wasn’t.”
From where Akahi sat, he could see every single TV monitor, yet feel like he was the center of attention. If there was one thing Akahi didn’t like to do, it was move. He was always in one of three places: his home near Waimea Bay where no other member was permitted, at their headquarters in Kahuku, or here at the fights. Not smart for a leader of a criminal organization unless there was an arrangement with local law enforcement, which there was.
Most of the time the police turned a blind
eye because there were those on the force who were somehow related to someone in the gang. The NBB also had a strict rule on drugs. They didn’t touch them. In return, they were allowed to run their games and other smaller operations.
The door to the room opened and a muscle-riddled man walked in whose physique looked nothing like that of the pillow-like Akahi. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his fists were stained red, but his eyes did all the talking.
Roger Kwan was a half and half: half Chinese, half Hawaiian. He grew up in the poverty-stricken Kalihi Valley. As a teen, he excelled at boxing and tae kwon do. Rather then use his talents to take him further in the sport, he used them to make money street fighting. It was at one of these street fights that Akahi first saw Roger. The leader watched him drop a man twice his size with one punch—his first.
For the last six years, Roger served as the enforcer for the NBB. He was always the first to throw a punch—and the last. Roger didn’t fear much, but many feared him. He was only sixteen when Akahi took him under his wing, grooming him to be a ruthless collector. He was their best muscle and he loved his job, too much. He had his shortcomings but he was an enforcer Akahi knew he could rely on.
He walked over to Akahi and leaned in close. “We get one problem.”
Akahi knew the answer but asked anyway. “What?”
“We get one body.”
Akahi let out a long breath as he dropped his head. He eventually looked up at Roger, “What I told you last time?”
“Akahi, trust me; I never hit him that hard.”
“Get rid of it. You better hope this doesn’t come back to me.”
“No worry, Akahi. The pigs stay roaming tonight. They sound hungry.”
Chapter 14
It was nearly one in the morning when Izzy and I got back to the house. We couldn’t get over how mild the weather was that late at night.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing a big blanket. “It’s too early for bed.” She pulled me out the back door onto the sandy beach in front of our place.
Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella) Page 57
