The nose of the Menehune drifted alarmingly to the right as Chris continued to spin the flap wheel. “Easy, eeeasy...” Chris coaxed, drifting the lumbering craft back to centerline, as he counted to himself in finality, “Forty. God, I hope that’s enough…” The end of the runway flashed beneath him, and Chris pulled the props all the way to idle and declared aloud, “Okay… here we go!”
The plane dropped the remaining feet to the ground, hitting once, hard, and then settling onto the hard-packed earth, the tires rumbling loudly as Chris scrambled to reverse props, quickly shoving the throttles back to full. With a roar of powerful engines, the Electra began to slow, but the end of the runway and the sheer drop-off to the sea beyond loomed large in the windscreen.
“Brakes-brakes-brakesbrakesbrakesBRAKES!!!!” he cried, casting a desperate glance to the deathly-pale form of Buddy beside him as he fought to control the now wildly fish-tailing craft. With his eyes half-closed he watched with morbid fascination as his certain death rapidly approached, and Chris could only hold on and pray as the ‘Menehune’ slid and slewed from side to side as it raced toward the jagged rocks at the edge of the island, “Whoa-whoa-WHOAWHOAWHOAAAAAAH SH-!!!”
With the end of the world looming, Chris tried one final desperate manoeuver to forestall the inevitable. Stomping hard on the left rudder, Chris whipped the plane around in a neck-snapping 180, at the same time shoving the props back to normal. With a quick burst of forward power, the tail of the Electra swung out over the end of the runway- and the plane stopped, the tail wheel dropping gently to the ground below.
Chris slapped at the kill switch, nearly bruising his hand as he shut the plane down and flung himself back into the seat, his eyes wide, his voice barely a whisper, crying softly, “Oh- my- God!”
A soft mist of ocean spray washed benignly over the plane as the engines whirred to a stop with a softly gentle ‘Bang!’ and final puff of blue smoke. Only the dulcet sounds of the surf and a sharp screech of a gull proclaimed the arrival of this most-unusual flight.
Immediately in the distance at the end of the runway, a reddish cloud of dust formed and the dirty-white shape of an antique ambulance materialized from within it. Chris wiped the cold sweat from his brow and turned to the barely conscious form of Buddy beside him. “Hang in there dude! We're down!” he said anxiously. Scrambling out of the co-pilot’s chair, Chris stumbled over the scattered cargo littering the floor, completely forgetting all about the giant spider lurking within as he grabbed at the cargo door handle, giving it a jerk and sliding it open, a blast of warm, fragrant air and golden light streaming into the plane as he leaped to the ground beneath.
A lazy cloud of dust announced the arrival of the battered, vintage-looking white panel truck with a simple gold cross on its’ side. Chris swayed unsteadily toward it with hands waving frantically over his head as its occupants slowly climbed out, obviously unaware of the now-critical need for their services.
Chris yelled, “Hurry guys, I think he's having a heart attack!”
The lead Paramedic, an attractive and clearly pregnant native girl whose name-tag identified her merely as ‘Francesca’, looked at this wild vision with confusion and asked it, “What? But they said- I thought Buddy was bringing some stupid-?”
Chris interrupted, bent over at the waist, dizzy and exhausted from his latest adventure and wheezed, “Yes. Well... No- well, yes, but- Whoa...!” And then he abruptly passed out, again toppling forward like a fallen tree, only to be caught one-handed by another paramedic, this one’s name simply ‘Mannie’, just before face-planting into the bright red-dirt. A third attendant walked laconically over to Chris, slapping oxygen onto his face and pulling up an eyelid to see who was home, as Mannie and Francesca scrambled into the dark opening in the side of the ‘Menehune’.
Francesca’s brows knitted with concern as she took in the pale and sweaty vision of Buddy, who slumped still and silent in the pilot’s seat. Quickly unlimbering her stethoscope, she slapped it onto Buddy’s chest. “Shee- bro, you don't look too good! What you been eatin'?” Her casual rejoinder suddenly changed to one of alarm as she turned and yelled at her companion, “Dammit! He's in de-fib! Mannie, get the paddles, NOW!” Mannie stumbled out of the tight confines of the cockpit as Francesca fought to strap an oxygen mask onto Buddy, at the same time ripping open his shirt and awkwardly climbing atop the dash to face him. “Don’t you dare die on me now you big ape!” she cried, fighting to gain a position where she could start chest compressions, her arms reaching awkwardly around her own bulk as she wrestled to help Buddy. “Shit!” she exclaimed in frustration, “Why you gotta choose to go belly-up in dis frickin’ tin can?!”
Seconds later Mannie stumbled back through the opening to the cockpit and flung the paddles of the defibrillator at Francesca. Francesca quickly squirted a copious gob of contact gel onto the paddles and rubbed them together as she called frantically over her shoulder to her partner, “Mannie! Talk to me!”
Mannie replied, tension edging his voice, “Charging! Not yet…! GO!”
Francesca depressed the buttons, and the defibrillator fired. Buddy flinched, but only slightly, his huge bulk held in a tight embrace by the narrow confines of the cockpit. Mannie slapped the stethoscope to his chest and shook his head ‘No’.
Francesca yelled, “AGAIN!!!”
Chris drifted back to awareness and glanced up at the ‘Menehune’, which now rocked slightly back and forth from the frenzy of heroic activity that echoed out of the open side window of the plane. And then- a disturbing silence ensued.
With his heart racing in fear, Chris ripped off his oxygen mask and began to rise, staggering to steady himself against the port-side wing, just as the trio of Buddy, Francesca and Mannie emerged from the plane. Chris’ attendant, a quick glance reassuring him that his charge would survive, quickly set up the gurney and helped his comrades load the massive form of Buddy onto it, and then slowly, carefully rolled it toward the waiting ambulance.
Chris sat with a heavy sigh on the wide rear bumper of the battered white vehicle and turned his face into the warm Hawaiian sun, smiling vacantly at Francesca as she began to tend to him, speaking to the distance where his father basked in oblivion under that same sun, blissfully unaware of his son’s latest brush with death.
“Nothing to do but 'lie on the beach', huh?” he said with self-satisfied irony, smiling benignly at Mannie as he swung his legs into the rear of the ambulance. Mannie smiled at him in return and shook his head in dry amusement, and then gently closed the doors.
Above – Part Two
Sunlight streamed through the louvered glass of the rural hospital windows, the musical sounds of a variety of tropical birds lending a gentle underscoring to the soft sighing of the warm breeze they let in.
Chris casually sat on the edge of the bed, his jacket off and a tank style t-shirt barely concealing a tanned, well-muscled body. He smiled his typical lop-sided grin as he listened to the cell phone he had tucked beneath one ear, and then responded with a laugh, “I'm o-kay!.. Mom, mom, Mo-ther! Yes, a scratch or two- well, okay... maybe even a bump, but nothing requiring surgery...” He stopped and listened, his eyes rolling skyward as he countered, “No! Nooo...! No, Mother, I did not say I require surgery. Yes, no, but I- I'm fine! Yes, yes- I'll be waiting... Okay! Thanks! Love you too! Okay, see you soon- Bye!” Chris tapped ‘End’ and grinned with silent amusement, his dimples deepening further, and then turned his gaze to the only other occupant of the tiny emergency wing.
In the bed immediately adjacent to his, Buddy smiled hugely from behind an oxygen mask, nodding his head in time to the music that leaked from a miniscule pair of high-end headphones perched incongruously on his enormous head. He winked at Chris and then closed his eyes as he leaned back onto the pillow, pulling the mask aside as he muttered, “Dude, I owe you one- Mahalo!”
Chris patted the recumbent giant reassuringly on the arm and replied, “No problem man, there was no way in hell I was going to wreck two p
lanes in one day!”
The emergency doors suddenly flew open and the disheveled form of Alani burst through, still dressed in dirty, mud-spattered clothing. She dashed across the room to Buddy and gathered his bulk into a hug like she would never let go as a torrent of melodious language issued forth from her full brown lips, their tone alternating rapidly back and forth between admonishing and consoling. Seconds later, the doors swung open again, this time ushering in a flustered and distraught Noelani and her austere Japanese husband, Kenji.
Suddenly the room was filled with a cacophonous flood of overlapping dialogue in three separate languages- Japanese, Hawaiian and English- Noelani fluttering around like a mother hen, Alani alternately crying and laughing in relief, Kenji offering terse comments and then looking on in stoic silence.
As Chris watched the curious exchange from his perch next to Buddy, the ER doors gently parted again and revealed the smiling form of a tall, slender, vaguely Asian-looking man, his crisp white lab coat embroidered with the name ‘Steven Onagawa – M.D.’. He crossed to Chris and began a cursory check of his vital signs, determined conclusively that he was alive and well, and then turned to the beeping and technology-laden form of Buddy and his entourage.
“Mr. Nakamura?” he inquired gently, addressing the near-silent form of the somber Japanese man, who turned and greeted the doctor solemnly with his arms crossed protectively across his chest, his face a tight mask of concern.
“Yes?”
“I'm Doctor Onagawa. Do you happen to have any more detailed birth records for Buddy?”
“He was- adopted. Is something wrong?”
“I'm not certain. That's why I was hoping to have a better idea of Buddy's medical history.” He consulted his chart briefly and then continued, “Buddy suffered what you might call a mild heart attack. Nothing major, but I think it might indicate a more serious problem.”
“What- problem?”
“Are you familiar with the term 'ventricular septum defect'?” The blank look that stole across Kenji’s inscrutable face belied the obvious, and Dr. Onagawa smiled and continued, “It means, quite simply, that Buddy may have a small hole in his heart-”
The large brown mother hen that was Noelani stood abruptly and sputtered with alarm, “How can that be? Then all his blood leak out!”
Doctor Onagawa laughed softly and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “No- no, Mrs. Nakamura, the hole is inside the heart.” He pointed to a faded anatomical illustration on the wall. “Let me explain. At birth, all babies have a tiny hole between the two halves of their heart. This typically closes up just after they’re born. Occasionally, however, it remains open, and blood leaks between the two. When this happens, it forces one half of the heart to work harder than the other, and enlarges and weakens that side. As Buddy got older, and his physical activity diminished, his heart naturally got- out of shape. Anyway, this strain on the two hemispheres of his heart caused an arrhythmia, or a change in the normal heartbeat. Which is what I believe happened to Buddy.” Doctor Onagawa paused, and then smiled softly and continued, “Anyway, I want to know for sure exactly what we're dealing with before suggesting any action. I've scheduled him for a full cardio workup at UH Med next Tuesday.”
Kenji replied, his voice edged with concern, “And Buddy, he will be all right until then? He must stay here, in the hospital?” A look of worried dismay finally cracked his stoic visage. “We have no- insurance.”
Doctor Onagawa frowned slightly as he consulted Buddy’s chart. “I see no indication that there should be a problem. I think he can go home tomorrow. Will that be okay?” He smiled encouragingly and turned to Buddy, “Just keep off your feet for a couple of days. No flying, you're grounded until further notice- use the oxygen as much as you need to.” He turned to Kenji, “Is there anything else I can answer for you?”
“No. Thank you, Doctor. Harigato.” Kenji bowed in traditional fashion, and Doctor Onagawa bowed slightly in return and left.
After a gentle comforting touch of his hand to the back of Noelani, Kenji turned and slowly crossed to Chris with his hands still folded solemnly before him and bowed deeply, his gaze never leaving Chris’ face. “I must thank you for your-” Kenji paused and looked back to Buddy, suddenly at a loss for words, and then continued, “Your- effort. It was very- fortunate that you were there when you were. I owe you a debt of gratitude. If there is anything I can do-”
Chris interrupted Kenji with his own hands folded and a slight nod of his head, “Actually sir, if it weren't for your daughter saving me first, I wouldn't have even been there at all. I'd say we were pretty much square.” Chris extended a hand, and after a beat, Kenji took it and held it firmly in both of his.
Without shaking it, just holding it in a warm embrace, Kenji stared at Chris for a long, silent beat. And then a curious frown caused his gaze to drift to the back of Alani, and then slowly swung off into the distance beyond. Without looking back at Chris, he said in a strange, almost mystical tone, “Ah, yes, perhaps.” And then he looked again to Chris, this time staring deep into his eyes. “Anyhow, I thank you- and I hope you have a…” He smiled softly and continued, “…a 'memorable' visit to our island.” Kenji bowed slightly again, this time a bit awkwardly, and then abruptly turned back to his family.
As Chris sat back in silence pondering the curious exchange, he caught the familiar sight of the outrageously long limousine out of the corner of his eye, slowly pulling up outside in a cloud of reddish dust. A moment later, the burly native driver, the now-customary Aloha shirt a bright flash of color beneath his dark gray pin-stripes, filled the swinging ER doors with his bulk. Without a word the driver nodded to Chris, who nodded sagely in return, and then he silently turned and left.
Chris hopped down jauntily from the bed, casually flinging his jacket over his shoulder as he swaggered towards the swinging ER doors. But just as he was about to pass through, he paused and cast a final backward glance over his shoulder at the group huddled around Buddy. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw Alani staring directly at him, her gaze one of curious consideration, her luminescent green eyes captivating his attention and galvanizing him on the spot. Her intent stare suddenly softened and she smiled almost shyly, a smirking glance of attention that now completely and utterly disoriented Chris. He smiled awkwardly in return, his hand raising hesitantly in a wave as he resumed his exit- and he promptly collided with the edge of the swinging door, stopping him dead in his tracks and sending a burst of stars through his vision. As he rubbed his head in renewed pain and stumbled through the doors he heard the unmistakable sound of poorly stifled giggling bubbling from Alani’s lips.
Chris piled into the spacious interior of the limo still rubbing his tender head. As the long, gray vehicle began to slowly move off he rolled down the window to watch as the ‘Menehune’ was tediously being towed down the airport runway. And as he did, he noticed a most unusual sight. A small branch was dragging softly on the ground, hanging limply from the port-side wingtip, and his heart suddenly jumped with a bolt of fear as he realized how truly close his end had been. As the limo drew nearer, he leaned out the window and stared at the anomalous branch with a nagging curiosity as he saw it in closer detail. It was an ilima branch, bright golden-orange blossoms surrounded by tiny dark green leaves. And which- if Chris had known, was the customary garland of Hawaiian royalty.
Chris’ thoughts wandered as the limo glided silently down the twisting coastal highway, alternating between the arresting vision of Alani and the strange and inexplicable images of- well- whatever the hell that was…
The limo rounded a corner, and a gap in the never-ending greenery of the Hawaiian landscape suddenly yielded a surprising sight- a fleeting glimpse of a bright red Mustang convertible, a glaring yellow sign tilted onto its’ windshield with the words ‘Rent ME!!!’ emblazoned on it.
Chris whipped his head around in amazement, his heart leaping at the shocking synchronicity of this vision. “Oh, SHIT! No WAY!” he cried, leaping
forward to pound on the privacy window, “Driver! Stop! STOP! STOP!!!”
The limo screeched to a halt, and the window slowly slid down.
“What?” said the driver, clearly confused by this turn of events, his voice edged with a sharp note of concern.
“Stop! Go back!”
“But, sir- I'm supposed to take you-!”
Chris interrupted and shook his head in conviction, “Forget that! I'm not passing up an opportunity like this!” And with that Chris bounded from the limo and walked quickly over to the bright red vehicle where he began to run his hands almost lovingly over the car’s hood and fender.
Chris suddenly stood bolt upright with his hands on his hips and whistled in lusty appreciation, a long, drawn out, “Whoooooa!” issuing from his lips. For this was not just your average garden-variety Mustang, this one bore the distinctive lines and Cobra badge of a far more exotic ride; a top-of-the-line, brand-spanking new GT500 Shelby, over 600 horsepower of pure adrenaline addiction just waiting for its’ junkie. Chris grinned like the proverbial virgin in the whore-house and turned to the limo that had just backed up and stopped beside him, the driver’s window slowly rolling down.
Chris yanked out his wallet and thrust a hundred-dollar bill through the open window, saying, “Here, man, take a long lunch.” He peeled off another and tossed it into the startled driver’s lap and added, “And treat the wife to dinner.” The limo driver stared at Chris shocked amazement for a moment, and then he slowly shook his head and rolled up the window.
Over the Rainbow - Book One - 'The Gathering Place' Page 7
