Over the Rainbow - Book One - 'The Gathering Place'

by Robert Vaughan

  Alani swiveled her head to take in her surroundings. She was apparently undamaged, her dignity the only thing injured by the fall. Well, mostly. She was now sitting in a shallow puddle, and her ass was soaking wet. “Yeah, uh- fine. I just- slipped.”

  Chris extended a shaky hand to her and gently hauled her upright. Alani turned and sloshed into the seat, and Chris closed the door. Turning to get into the car himself, he suddenly slipped and disappeared from view, a sodden splash telling Alani all she needed to know. She burst into a fit of giggles as Chris heaved himself up against the side of the car, a sheepish grin on his handsome face, and then she said softly to herself, “Now we match.”

  Walter sat in silence next to Abigail, his lips moving silently as he scrutinized the scorecard. His eyebrows disappeared into the shadow beneath his visor, and he exclaimed, “Good God, Abigail- are you aware-?”

  Abigail interrupted, reaching for the card, “What-? Walter, let me see-”

  Walter snatched the card away, saying with impatience, “Just- wait a minute, will you?” He narrowed his eyes, his face unbelieving, “That can't be right-!”

  Abigail grabbed at the scorecard, “What? Honey, let me see-”

  Walter snagged the card back and replied with irritation, “Just- give me a minute, please?” He breathed a sigh of astonishment, “My God, do you know, you are now at par, with three holes to go?”

  “I never keep score. Is that good?”

  “Is that ‘good’? Abigail, sweetheart, it's damn near miraculous.”

  Abigail looked into the distance, a vague smile gracing her lips as she pondered the truly bizarre events of the day. And then she turned to Walter and said with a note of wonder, “It has been strange, hasn't it? I make just about everything I hit- I could probably play blindfolded. On the other hand you are having a- shall we say, a ‘disappointing’ round- to say the least…”

  Walter replied with a snort, “Oh don't be so damn P.C. Abigail. My game today is positively in the crapper.” Walter looked again to the scorecard with disgust and thrust it into the holder on the wheel. “And I don't care what you say- it's still no fun when I don't… win.”

  Alani and Chris drove down the winding road in silence, neither wanting to address the topic of the bizarre incident, neither knowing that it had mutually occurred to them both. Alani finally broke the silence, and broached a different subject, “So what happened to you in that- that airplane? How come you crashed like that?”

  Chris paused in chagrin, remembering, and then stated with a note of ironic humor, “Would you believe I was struck by lightning?”

  “You're kidding? You were struck by lightning?”

  “Yeah. Not only once, but twice. I mean, I always said I was the exception to the rule, but- man...”

  Alani mused, “Geez, struck by lightning, then Buddy-? You nearly drown at the beach? You must have some very dedicated angels on your shoulders.”

  Chris laughed and then replied, “Yeah, probably some damn tired ones.”

  The tension finally broken, Alani laughed as well, a musical accompaniment to Chris’ own, and then she suddenly stopped and gestured to the in-dash clock. “Shit. Is that really what time it is?”

  Chris checked his watch and nodded, “Uh- Yeah- why?”

  “Because, I got to be there, like- now. Can you step on it a little?”

  Chris smiled impishly and replied, “Thought you’d never ask.” And with a mischievous grin and a crinkle of eyes he down-shifted the car and roared ahead.

  Flying around corners, the wind whipping her hair, Alani peered intently ahead, apparently looking for a specific landmark. Suddenly she cried, “STOP!”

  Chris screeched the car to a halt, and looked to Alani with concern, “What?”

  Alani was pointing across his chest to a narrow, almost invisible track that wove through the tall grass on the side of the road. “There it is! Take that path, I know a shortcut...”

  Chris narrowed his eyes, failing for a moment to see this miraculous shortcut, finally seeing a faint set of parallel tracks that disappeared into the jungle. “That? Are you kidding?”

  Alani replied with an eye-roll, “Do I look like I'm kidding? Just- do it. It's safe…” A tiny smirk tweaked at the corner of her mouth and her eyes creased in amusement. “I promise.”

  Chris revved the engine and slapped the car into gear, “O-kaaaay…” And with tires squealing, he spun the car abruptly to the left and splashed through the tall grass, plunging into the dark tangle of trees without hesitation.

  Almost immediately, the verdant jungle opened up into an airy cathedral of towering banyan trees, the canopy of the forest nearly a hundred feet overhead. The Mustang bumped over a large root, and Alani scrambled for a hand-hold, shouting over the roar of the car, “Hang on! It's a little rough!”

  ‘A little rough’ was an understatement. The road was indeed rough, and littered with potholes, the enormous roots of the surrounding banyans effectively creating a convoluted arboreal obstacle course. Chris, however, was apparently now in his element, and swerved and slalomed with ease, popping gears and yanking the handbrake as he wrenched the wheel from side to side, turning what was initially merely a bumpy ride into a wild and exhilarating experience that rivalled the best that an amusement park could offer.

  Nearly tipping the car onto two wheels as he viciously swerved around a final giant tree root, Chris found the car on a long narrow straight-away that framed an azure patch of ocean beyond. He deftly slipped the car into a lower gear and stomped the gas, a gleeful ‘YEEE-HA!!!’ erupting from his lungs as he raced to the finish line.

  As they burst from the trees onto the wide, deserted beach, Chris whipped the car around in a hand-brake power-slide and stopped. With a wide grin, he looked aside to Alani, who was flushed with excitement from the ride herself, and who now nodded sideways with a smile of satisfaction through the windscreen.

  Chris followed her gaze with his own and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. For there, before his eyes, was their destination just ahead, glowing magical and pinkish in the fading afternoon light.

  Abigail carefully lined up her putt, a miracle-shot nearly 60 feet from the hole. Smoothly stroking the Hibiscus-logo on the ball, it slowly snaked its’ way across the green. And as it did, it began to slow, and slow, and then stopped, perched on the lip of the hole. Abigail frowned in disappointment- and then the ball dropped in.

  Shrieking with amazement, Abigail leaped into the air, and then landed in another happy-dance as she twirled her putter overhead like a majorette, finally sheathing it with a Chi-Chi Rodriguez-like flourish as she turned to her husband, her face falling into a mock-pout as Walter scowled at her childish display.

  Walter focused on the ball at his feet and softly tapped it toward the hole. It was an easy ‘gimme’, a simple three-footer that inexplicably caught the lip, rolled around, and around, and out.

  Walter bellowed with rage, “AAAAAARGH!!! God dammit! That's IT! I have had ENOUGH!!” And then without warning he violently flung the offending club away, watching with a nod of grim acceptance as it whirled away in helicopter fashion and disappeared into the sea.

  Abigail just stared in shocked silence as Walter stomped back to the cart and slammed it into gear, angrily backing the vehicle up and slamming to a halt within inches of her toes. She timidly climbed in with a frown, and then frantically snatched for a hand-hold in fright as Walter floored the accelerator and raced away from the scene of his misery.

  Chris and Alani sauntered back toward the Hotel, lightly holding hands by the tips of pinkies and laughing. Chris gave Alani a final platonic squeeze and released her hand as he turned to her and said, “Thanks. That- was totally a blast. Most fun I’ve had all day. Way better than any video game.”

  “I know, right? I drive through there all the time.” Alani turned to face him, taking both of his hands lightly in hers, contemplating a kiss, and then deciding otherwise- at least for now. “Uh- thanks for the ride, o
kay? I gotta go- I'm late.” Reconsidering the kiss, just not the one she really wanted, Alani leaned in on tip-toes and bussed Chris chastely on the cheek, releasing his hands almost reluctantly. And then she whirled away and broke into a soft jog, looking back over her shoulder with a wide smile and a wave as she disappeared around a distant corner.

  Chris slowly turned away, his gaze lingering over his shoulder in the direction she had gone, and then he thrust his hands into his pockets with a tilted smile of his own glued to his face, and casually sauntered off in the opposite direction as he whistled a happy tune. He had barely gotten ten steps when he rounded a corner of a fragrant plumeria hedge and nearly collided with his mother, who was chatting animatedly to a glum and glowering Walter.

  “...and could you believe that putting…?” Abigail queried to her silently fuming husband, commenting with an ebullient and unrestrained excitement as she nearly danced along the curving path, “I mean- Wow! It was amazing! I have never putted like that in my life! Oh, if only I had video to show the girls…”

  Walter replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Yes, you were brilliant. Tiger Woods at Augusta simply pales by comparison.”

  Chris raised a hand in greeting, “Hey, guys-!” only to have his father brush brusquely past him, violently stuffing the offensive record of his failure into a nearby trash can. He addressed his mother with a shrug of annoyance, “Sheesh! What’s with him?”

  “Oh, pooh! Never mind him. He just had an off day. You know how he gets...” Abigail paused, looking stealthily around to see if anyone was looking, and then dug the crumpled card from the trash and waved it triumphantly in the air. “I, on the other hand, was brilliant!” She proudly thrust the scorecard in Chris’ face. “Look, look right here- an Eagle!” Her eyes creased in puzzlement, and then she smiled her own lop-sided smile as she mused to herself, “And on hole number 13! Isn't that just too odd? What are the coincidences of that?”

  As Chris and Abigail entered the spacious hotel lobby, a Bell Captain approached, smiling broadly as he addressed the beaming Abigail, “Mrs. Matthews. Did you enjoy your golf?”

  “Oh, it was absolutely delightful! Thank you!”

  The Bell Captain gestured to her clubs, “May I?”

  “Oh, certainly... Mahalo!” Abigail smiled sweetly and then looked to Chris, nodding her head sideways to the Bell Captain, who was obviously awaiting his tip.

  Shaking his head in silent amusement, Chris smiled and reached into his wallet, fishing out a single bill. The Bell Captain’s mouth dropped open as he looked to the bill in his hand, and then he smiled widely as he bowed and backed away, again looking at the bill in his hand to confirm its’ denomination. Yup- Benjamin.

  Abigail sighed contentedly and looked Chris up-and-down with an appraising glance, “Good to see you didn't die! Your father will be so disappointed. Have fun?”

  “Killer. I wrecked a plane, saved another, and bought a surfboard- all in all, not bad. Oh- and I ran into the same girl three different times.”

  “Really? How odd- three times in the same day?”

  “Yeah, and that's not even the strangest part...” And then Chris went silent as he suddenly remembered how truly strange it had been.

  Abigail coaxed, leaning in to see Chris’ face, “And-? The strangest part was...?”

  “What? Oh, not now- take too long. Tell you later. Say tonight- after dinner? And several drinks?”

  “Deal. Speaking of which, I'm famished, why don't you get us a table at the restaurant. Get a seat by the window. See you there in about half an hour?” Abigail leaned up and kissed Chris fleetingly on the cheek, playfully tousled his golden-blond curls and began to head towards the elevators, turning back and addressing him as the doors opened, “And order me a drink, I feel like celebrating.” Abigail slapped a high-five to the startled bellman, grinning from ear to ear as the doors closed with a soft chime.

  Chris turned from the spectacle of his mother with a bemused smile and began to saunter past the glittering displays of a closed and darkened jewelry store, his gaze focused on the restaurant ahead, when a tiny flash of something caught his eye. He slowly turned and leaned in to peer through the sparkling window and saw what had snagged his attention.

  Spotlighted on a small glass pedestal was a pair of delicate crystal sea turtles, their features edged in sparkling gold that twinkled and gleamed back at him through the glass. Chris leaned in closer, marveling at the exquisitely delicate work, and then suddenly stiffened as he heard a sound both exotically strange and oddly familiar. It was the distinct sound of drums and chanting, a driving Polynesian beat, rising and falling on the breeze that wafted through the open-air lobby, and one that once again suddenly, inexplicably- stopped.

  Chris slowly straightened and looked around, his brows creasing in puzzlement as he turned and tilted his head from side to side trying to locate the origin of the peculiar sound. But only the echoes of muddled voices and clink of dinnerware from the nearby restaurant greeted his ears- there was no other sound in the nearly-deserted lobby.

  As Chris approached the boisterous and noisy restaurant, a three-piece combo stuck up a classic Don Ho tune as a smiling maître d’ greeted him, “How many tonight- sir?”

  “Uh, three, please... by the window, if we could?”

  The maître d’ frowned, looking from the computer screen at the service station to the clearly-full restaurant as he replied, “It may be a bit of a wait, sir- if you would like to-” And then he suddenly paused, and this time Chris heard another anomalous noise echoing above the din- this one was the unmistakable sound of a wind chime.

  The maître d’ frowned deeper and craned his head to look into the clearly packed restaurant, only to see to his shock and amazement a small round table gently spotlighted near the enormous floor to ceiling windows, a singular magenta orchid in a crystal vase at its’ center. Three chairs surrounded it, place settings waiting and ready, napkins tented and folded crisply into decorative shapes, “Of- of course- this way, sir.”

  Threading his way through the crowded space, the maître d’ placed menus on the table and then clumsily backed away, a tight smile on his face and a distinctly ‘WTF?’ look in his eyes, shaking his head slightly in confusion as he stumbled back to the front of the restaurant.

  Chris sat with his back to the gleaming windows, the beach beyond glowing with sparkling bio-luminescence and glittering foam. The combo struck up another number, this one the popular ‘White Sandy Beach’ by IZ. As Chris leaned in to take a sniff of the bright, delicate flower in the center of the table, again the world shifted …

  Chris looked down at Alani, who was wearing a stylish 40’s-era dress, a huge Hibiscus in her hair and an orchid corsage pinned to her chest. They were dancing close together, a string of multi-colored lights swaying gently in the breeze above their heads as the Glenn-Miller type orchestra played softly in the background. He could almost taste the scent of jasmine in the air, layered over with the tang of salt on the warm breeze, and he could feel the warmth radiating from Alani as he held her tightly.

  They whirled and glided among the dozens of other dancers, on and on and on, seemingly forever, the music blending seamlessly from one tune to another, and Chris’ gaze drifted from the top of Alani’s glistening hair to the full Moon in the distance as it rose huge above the horizon, when suddenly someone touched him on the arm…

  And the world suddenly flashed back to normal.

  “Chris-?” Abigail leaned in, smiling curiously at her slightly absent son, “Honey-? Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

  Chris blinked and shook his head slightly to clear it, “What? Oh, wow! Hi, Mom.” He took in the vision of his mother with a long, appraising glance and smiled. True to form, Abigail was again perfectly put together. She was wearing a colorful Polynesian wrap- bright corals, reds and oranges dominating the print, a large pink Hibiscus tucked behind one ear, a delicate strand of polished coral around her neck and a matching bracelet adorning
her left wrist. “Wow, you look great! Hey, Dad…”

  Walter scowled down at his son, clearly uncomfortable in his own attire. He was wearing a subtle black ‘Aloha’ shirt that was decorated simply with a band of tan palm trees at its hem, black slacks and open-toed sandals, and a bright cream and yellow plumeria lei finished his ensemble. It was no wonder that he seemed uncomfortable- he looked ridiculous. All that was missing was a matching Hibiscus flower to make his ensemble totally ludicrous. Chris merely smiled and addressed the huge flower adorning his mother’s ear, “So, what's up with this, Mom? Going native?”

  Abigail smiled shyly, “What? Oh this-? Apparently, it's more than just a decoration.” She snuggled up to Walter, smiling up at him lovingly, “It signifies that 'I'm taken', as opposed to wearing the flower in the right ear, which is a sign that you are available.”

  Chris frowned and shook his head, “Mom, where are you getting all this from?”

  Abigail sat as Walter pushed in her chair, leaning in with an excited air to tell her story, “Oh! It was when I went out shopping this morning- I met the most fascinating woman...”

  …Abigail wandered through the local farmer’s market, marveling at the wonderful and exotic offerings piled high on tables all around her in a colorful array of sights and smells. As she backed away from a table piled high with racks of shell-craft, she collided with a large, silver-haired native woman and knocked the woman’s basket to the ground, fruits and vegetables scattering everywhere in the crowded marketplace.