Two To Mango

by Jill Marie Landis

  “Chicken suit. Not chicken.”

  “Someone stole a chicken suit?”

  “You know the guy that jumps around in front of the chicken barbeque place in Kapa’a?”

  “Don’t tell me. Someone broke into their stand and stole the suit.”

  “No. The guy they hired ran off in it and disappeared.”

  8

  Two Famous Kumu

  The next morning Em left Sophie to run the bar while she rode into town with Kiki, who was still in a terrible mood from the night before.

  “I called the Defector,” she told Em. “First thing this morning. I think I heard Louie in the background. Did he spend the night with her?”

  Em didn’t think it was any of Kiki’s business where Louie spent the night.

  “He didn’t come home, so I hope so.”

  “I still can’t believe they’re engaged. He must be crazier than I thought.”

  “He loves her, Kiki. She makes him happy.”

  Kiki snorted. “Happy my okole. I should tell him she’s only after the bar.” Kiki turned off onto the Kapa’a bypass, headed for Lihue. “Better yet, you should tell him. Maybe he’d believe you. He thinks she and I don’t get along because we compete for wedding bookings.”

  Kiki had been the one and only wedding planner on the North Shore until Marilyn showed up.

  “I’m not going to tell him any such thing without proof. She may not be after the bar at all.”

  After talking to Sophie last night Em wasn’t sure what Marilyn was up to, but there was no way she was going to bad mouth the woman who might soon become Louie’s wife. It suddenly occurred to Em that when they married, Marilyn might want to move out of her lovely home up in Princeville and live in the beach cottage. In that case, Em would be looking for a place of her own.

  “You’re going to do nothing?”

  Kiki stopped at the traffic circle to yield to a Volkswagen bus. Then she started to pull out in front of it. Em yelled stop. Kiki stopped and waited until the road was clear. She missed the opening toward Lihue and ended up going around the entire circle before she was headed the right way again.

  Em removed her clenched hand from the door handle. Thankfully there had only been three cars at the round-about.

  Once her heart had stopped pounding she said, “I’m going to make the best of this and go along with Louie’s wishes for the time being.” She didn’t dare admit she’d asked Roland to look into Marilyn’s past.

  “Maybe she’ll just disappear,” Kiki mumbled.

  “What are you talking about?” Alarmed, Em wondered what Kiki was capable of.

  “I’m just saying . . . maybe she’ll leave the island. People do that, you know. They move over here and then decide island life is too slow and confining and take off again. We can only hope, eh?”

  They did the usual errands, Costco, Walmart, the Humane Society Thrift Shop, then stopped at Kauai Pasta for lunch. Kiki downed a couple of three olive martinis while Em made the excuse of wanting to keep her wits about her and took over driving. On the way back to the North Shore they headed to Kapa’a and up the hill to the home of Kawika Palikekua, who had stepped in to take over Mitchell’s halau as well as spearhead the Kukui Nut Festival’s hula competition.

  Kawika lived in a modest house painted sky blue with yellow trim. A baby goat was chained to a stake, happily munching on what was left of the grass in the front yard. Em followed Kiki into the front room of the sparsely decorated but neat home.

  Kawika, a well-built man in his early forties, seemed surprised but more than happy to give Kiki entry forms along with a list of halau that had already signed up for the competition.

  “Just fill the forms out and drop them off or mail them back to me by day after tomorrow,” Kawika said. “I’m glad you’re entering again, Kiki. It’s been a while.”

  “We took some time off,” Kiki said. “Took some time to tune up a bit.”

  As they talked, Em studied an impressive assortment of the hula competition trophies, koa wood bowls, and plaques on display around the room. There was a series of photos of Kawika performing solo and as a member of hula troupes from childhood until now.

  Kiki pointed to a large group photo.

  “That must be one of the last photos of Mitchell with the halau,” she said.

  Em moved closer to get a better look. Kawika pointed out Mitchell to her and then added, “And that’s Shari Kaui. Aw. What a loss.”

  The thin, dark haired woman in a traditional costume was the hula dancer most mainlanders would imagine when they thought of Hawaii. Shari’s smile was lovely, though she appeared frail.

  “Who’s your kumu?” Kawika asked Kiki.

  Kiki hesitated and then laughed with a toss of her head. “We still don’t have a kumu. We’re looking for a teacher right now, not that we need one, but we could use a fresh eye and a bit of choreography help. We’re a unique group.”

  Kawika glanced over at Em and then back to Kiki.

  “Don’t I know it,” he laughed. “I’m sure whatever you come up with will be memorable.”

  “Thanks, Kawika.” Kiki waved the paperwork. “I’ll get these back in time. We’ll see you at Mitchell’s funeral. We’re dancing.”

  Kawika was a little too slow at hiding his shock.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Kiki nodded. “We’ve been on the program almost since the minute they found him. We might dance our Medley to Elvis, seeing as how Mitchell was almost as great at the King in his own right.”

  “That’ll be out of the box.” Kawika had the expression of someone who’d been hit between the eyes with a two by four. Protocol at the funeral had just flown out the window. “You know at the competition you’ll get more points for songs in Hawaiian and also for songs written by Kauai composers. And for songs about Kauai.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I’ll see what I can find.”

  Before they walked out, Em paused to indicate all of his trophies. “Looks like you’ve been dancing since you could walk, Kawika.”

  “Even before. My mother danced when she was hapai with me. I guess you could say I picked it up in her womb.”

  “How were you chosen to taken over for Mitchell?” She pretended to study a plaque on the wall trying to sound casually interested. The question was a valid one from a newcomer and a haole.

  “Mitchell was training me become a kumu hula and have my own halau one day. So, I was the natural choice, of course. I’ve got some great ideas that Mitchell would never have approved, but I’ll slowly integrate them into our dancing.”

  According to Roland, Shari Kaui would have taken over. With Mitchell and Shari both out of the way, Kawika had inherited the halau along with the prestige and the income that came with it.

  “So, now you’re in charge of the Kukui Nut Festival competition too?”

  “Mitchell was getting so weak that the halau was already doing most of the work. I’m just trying to fill his slippers. I’ll be the emcee. It’s going to be some show. I’ve got lots of ideas I’d love to implement for next year, too.”

  “I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Em said.

  Kiki thanked him again. They said aloha and Em followed her out the door. They’d reached the sidewalk when a lowered, metallic silver Chevy truck slid up to the curb and parked behind Kiki’s sedan. There was a huge 100% Local decal in the back window.

  “Oh, my gosh.” Kiki shook her purse and started digging for her keys.

  “Gosh what?”

  “That’s Jackie Loo Tong.” There was more than a hint of reverence in Kiki’s tone.

  “Who’s Jackie Loo Tong?” Em whispered because the man in question had just stepped out of the pickup. He was not much taller than Em. Close to five-seven maybe. His black hair was slick
ed back into a long waist-length braid. He wore a tight white sleeveless T-shirt that showed off well-honed biceps and the tribal tattoos banding them. His skin was a rich cocoa with a touch of gold.

  He flashed a wide smile at Em as he walked over and gave Kiki an aloha hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Miss Kiki! Pehea ‘oe. How you stay? Long time no see.”

  “I’m good,” Kiki was blushing from her hairline to her neck. “How are you doing, Jackie?”

  “Great. Just got back from doing a little gambling in Las Vegas. Can’t wait for the big competition, eh?” He glanced at the blue house. The baby goat was gnawing on the corner of the lowest wooden step. Jackie turned back to Kiki and pointed to the papers she was holding. “Are those entry forms? Are you putting your girls in the competition?”

  Kiki’s forehead was glowing with perspiration. “I am.”

  “Gee, you pretty brave . . . after what happened last time.”

  “They’re much better dancers now,” Em interjected. She didn’t know Jackie Loo Tong, but already she didn’t like him.

  “And who are you, pretty haole lady?” Jackie gave her a wink and a sly smile. “Nothing I like better than a fine haole wahine.”

  “This is Em Johnson. She’s Louie Marshall’s niece. She’s managing the Goddess now.”

  “Wow. Long time since I been out the North Shore. I’ll have to come in and check the place out sometime. You have Hawaiian entertainment?”

  Em nodded. “Danny Cook and the Tiki Tones. The Hula Maidens dance for us nightly now.”

  “Oh.” Obviously unimpressed, Jackie turned to Kiki again. “I’m glad to hear you girls are doing great. I can’t wait to see your performance. I’m sure your ladies will really rock da house.”

  Em couldn’t miss his sarcasm. Thankfully, Kiki did.

  “Mahalo, Jackie. That means a lot coming from you.” Kiki fingered her sunrise shell necklace and smiled.

  “So, what about Mitchell? Shock-ing, eh?” Jackie shook his head.

  “Really terrible,” Kiki’s voice fell.

  Jackie shrugged. “I’m not surprised, though. He never took care, you know. He was in terrible health. I hear his halau is in upheaval now.”

  “Kawika took over, you know,” Kiki said. “He seems to be doing great. Sounds like he has it all under control.”

  “Puh. Kawika. Good luck to them then. Him and his crazy ideas. I was pretty sure my dancers were going to take top honors this year and now that Mitchell’s gone, I’m willing to bet big money on it. We would have won the overall championship last year if not for Mitchell’s group. The judges aren’t always fair, you know. They played favorites with Mitchell just ’cause he started the festival.”

  “Tell me about it,” Kiki agreed.

  Em studied Jackie Loo Tong and wondered how far he would go to win. She glanced at her watch. Kiki would gossip forever if they didn’t get moving.

  “It’s nice to meet you Jackie,” Em interrupted, “but I’d better get back to work. Kiki?”

  Kiki bid Jackie Loo Tong aloha with another big hug and a kiss, and then she and Em climbed into the car.

  “Here. Hang on to these.” Kiki handed Em the papers and turned the key in the ignition. “He seemed pretty excited to hear the Maidens are competing again. Maybe this is a good idea.”

  Em was staring out of the passenger window thinking. When she got back to Haena she would call Roland first thing.

  “People take these competitions pretty seriously, don’t they?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Kiki said. “Hula is life.”

  Em thought about Jackie Loo Tong bragging about his own halau and his certainty of winning now that Mitchell was gone.

  Hula might be life, but could it be the death of someone?

  9

  Back at the Bar

  It was drizzling on the North Shore when Em returned. Kiki helped her unload her supplies at the house and left. By the time Em walked into the Goddess it was almost four, and the place was deserted except for Buzzy, the aging hippie who lived somewhere up the road. No one was really sure where he lived or even what is last name was. Folks saw him walking along the highway, and then he’d just disappear into the jungle. He’d been a fixture at the end of the road since the late 70’s when an entire band of free love hippies built tree houses on the beach and named it Taylor Camp.

  “Hey, Buzzy,” Em waved. “You doing all right?”

  Buzzy managed a nod and a vacant smile that was permanently in place. He was wearing a wide, black elastic band around his forehead with a battery operated light attached. The light was on, illuminating the Corona bottle on the table in front of him.

  Em walked over to the bar. “It’s not that dark in here,” she said to Sophie.

  “I told him he was running down his batteries. He said yeah, he’d been living on the edge for a long time.” Sophie was prepping the divided container full of lime wedges, Maraschino cherries and olives. “How’d it go in town?”

  “Not bad. Kiki got the entry forms. She said to give you this.” Em handed her the competition line up sheet. “She thought you might recognize some of the groups they’ll be competing against.”

  Sophie quickly scanned the list. Em noticed a slight tightening of her lips.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “This is my mom’s old halau.” She pointed to one of the names on the list.

  Em knew better than to question her. The girl didn’t like to talk about her life on Oahu. She’d moved to Kauai to turn the page, and Em respected her wishes.

  “Do you know any of the others?”

  “I’ve heard of some of the other kumu. Looks like there are even a couple of groups coming all the way from Japan.”

  “Really?” Em glanced down at the list. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow. One of the Japanese groups has an entry in the Kupuna division. They’ll be up against the Maidens.”

  “Bad?”

  “Terrible. Those Japanese dancers are like well-oiled machines. No mistakes.”

  “Sounds pretty scary.”

  “Yeah, I think the kumu beat them if they dance out of step.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Kind of.”

  “I met Kawika Palikekua, Mitchell’s replacement, and we ran into Jackie Loo Tong.”

  “Jackie’s one of the best.”

  “He thinks so too.” Em reminded herself to call Roland ASAP. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

  “We had a pretty good lunch crowd. Your uncle rolled in about one. He’s pretty excited about the engagement. So excited he’s working on a new drink recipe.”

  “Good. That parrot needs a drink in the worst way. Kiki’s not happy about the engagement.”

  “To say the least.” Sophie went over to the ice machine and scooped out a bucket of ice and lugged it over to the ice bin. “I hope she doesn’t pull any stunts.”

  “You don’t think she’d actually do anything to hurt Marilyn, do you?” “Physically?” Sophie thought about it for a minute. “No. But I’m sure Kiki can come up with plenty of ways to make the woman pretty miserable.”

  “Hopefully she’ll be too focused on the competition to do anything.”

  Remembering the reactions of the two kumu, Em said, “I hope the Maidens don’t embarrass themselves too badly.”

  “I’ve been on the phone during my breaks trying to find someone to coach them.”

  “Any success?”

  “I’m close. I’m waiting for a friend to call me back.”

  “A coach? Not a kumu?”

  “Actually I’m hoping more like a referee. There’s not a kumu on island who will take them on. Wally Williams is here, and he said he’d be thrilled to help them with hair and
makeup. He offered to design a costume.”

  “What about Kiki? Isn’t that her territory?”

  “I’m hoping they can work together.”

  “He’ll be great. He was Fernando’s stylist in Vegas long enough to learn about ‘wow’ factor and about what works on stage. When did he get back?”

  “Last week. I called to see if he was on island and he picked up.”

  Wally Williams was the former partner of the late Fernando, a flamboyant pianist who had stepped into Liberace’s shoes when they were still warm. Fernando recently met with an unpleasant end, but Wally was able to comfort himself by visiting their Kauai estate, one of many that Fernando had left him.

  “I’m hoping to hear from my friend tonight,” she added. “With any luck they’ll both volunteer, and I’ll have Kiki call a meeting of the Maidens in the morning.”

  “Speaking of calls, I need to make a couple. It’ll just take a few minutes.”

  “No worries.” Sophie picked some menus and headed for a knot of tourists hovering in hesitation on the threshold. “Come on in, folks. We don’t bite. We’ve got the best Mai Tais in town and over forty-two tropical drinks on the menu. Each and every one is legendary.”

  Sophie waved them in and escorted them to a table on the opposite side of the room from Buzzy and his headlamp.

  Em called Roland. He picked up on the first ring and said, “I haven’t had time to look into Ms. Lockhart’s background yet.”

  “No problem. I have some news for you.”

  Em cradled the phone to her ear and pulled Louie’s battered leather chair out from behind the massive desk in the Goddess office. She’d just found a brief note from her uncle waiting for her.

  I’ll be home by six and won’t be going out.

  Gotta come up with a new recipe for a drink to commemorate my engagement.

  Hopefully taste-testing would put David Letterman in a better mood.